


Yugen

by sohvia



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, OiSuga is endgame, Slow Burn, and terusuga is only in the beginning, but just a little bit, lots of fluff, oikawa is the archetype of handsome, so are oikawa and iwaizumi, suga and daichi are best friends, suga is the devil, there is also talk about aliens, this is for a large part a happy story, very brief oikage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 10:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 596,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohvia/pseuds/sohvia
Summary: Oikawa needs a place to stay.Sugawara happens to have an empty room.Iwaizumi and Daichi suggest that Oikawa stays with Suga for a bit.Little did Oikawa know that he would be stepping into the most intense six degrees of separation....yugen - an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a couple of things if you've somehow decided to click on this fic:  
> First: The start is kind of slow, because I never know how to start anything.  
> And this is my first work here, so bare with it. 
> 
> Second: English isn't my first language, so if anything reads like it doesn't make any sense, I apologize in advance.  
> I promise it made perfect sense in my head. Sometimes it's hard to remember how grammar works in different languages when you understand four of them. 
> 
> Third: This is 100% self indulgent and mostly just fluff. 
> 
> It's horrible. Please enjoy!

Yugen

\- an awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep and mysterious for words

 

...

 

”Suga, that empty room in your apartment is still empty, right?” Daichi asked as he sat down across from him.

“Yeah,” Suga nodded and hid his smile behind his cup of tea as Iwaizumi sat next to Daichi and an unconscious smile spread on Daichi’s lips when he sat close enough for their shoulders to touch.

They had just finished eating a very enjoyable dinner, cooked by Daichi and Iwaizumi in their little kitchen. And with little, Suga meant that it was smaller than his small kitchen.

While they cooked, Suga had observed how the pair navigated and moved around each other and worked together. He felt happy for them with every look and touch he saw the two exchange. Daichi had been adamant on not letting Suga help, so he had enjoyed with content the delicious smells and the warm atmosphere.

“Do you think someone could stay there?” Daichi asked carefully.

“As a roommate?” Suga asked and set his cup down, looking between Daichi and Iwaizumi.

“No, it’d only be for a little while.” Daichi hurried to explain.

“I have a friend who needs a place to stay while he looks for a new apartment.” Iwaizumi elaborated.

“Oh,” Suga said. “Yeah, he can stay with me,” he nodded. He didn’t miss the relieved sigh that Iwaizumi let out, or Daichi’s hand that dropped under the table, most likely on Iwaizumi’s thigh, judging from the angle his arm was in.

“Great, thank you Suga.” Daichi too looked relieved, although maybe for a different reason than his boyfriend. Suga couldn’t fully make sense of the minor differences in their expressions.

“But, is there a reason he can’t stay with you?” Suga wanted to ask. Of course he wouldn’t turn away a person who needed help, but neither would Daichi or Iwaizumi, especially if it was a friend. And this worried Suga a little of what he had just agreed to.

“No, there’s...” Iwaizumi answered. “There’s history.”

Oh

What kind of history? Suga yearned to ask, but he figured that Iwaizumi would’ve elaborated more if he was willing to talk about it.

“But he’s a good guy, don’t worry.” Daichi assured Suga. “Respectful and mostly just keeps to himself.”

“Okay.” Suga finished his tea. Iwaizumi noticed his empty cup, and got up to pour more for him.

“So, when can I expect him to come?”

“Thursday.” Iwaizumi answered and set the kettle down before he sat back down.

“So soon?” That only gave Suga one day to get the “guest room”, as he sometimes called it to himself, ready.

“His lease is up then and he has to give up the apartment.”

“He couldn’t renew it?”

“No, the owner has a granddaughter who needs an apartment or something.” Iwaizumi told him. “We’re going to help him move his stuff to storage and then bring whatever he might need to your apartment.”

Suga nodded in a tiny motion of understanding and started to mentally go through what he needed to do tomorrow when a thought popped to him.

“Hey, you didn’t ask me to come to dinner just to ask this, right?”

Daichi’s eyes widened a little at Suga’s question. “WHAT? Of course not.” But it didn’t convince Suga.

“You know that I don’t need to be buttered up with shrimps.” Suga added with a soft smile and leaned his chin on his hand.

“We know.” Iwaizumi confirmed with a kind smile. “We just haven’t seen you in a while.”

That was true. It had been weeks since the last time Suga had seen them.

“And we thought it’d be nicer to ask face to face than over the phone.” Daichi added.

Suga smiled at the way Daichi used “we”.

“Well, you’ve been busy being a couple, so I’m not blaming you.” He really couldn’t bring himself to mind it when they looked so happy and content together, but he wasn’t beyond teasing them either.

“Well, I’m blaming you and your neighbors that you’re so friendly with,” Daichi said. “You’re always hanging out with them when I call you.”

“I’m not sure it can be called hanging out when they barge in without knocking and staying only long enough to eat all my good snacks.”

“You love it.” Daichi mildly accused, his tone softened by his smile.

And yes, Suga loved that his friends, who were mostly also his neighbors, came and went so frequently. He was rarely alone.

When Suga thought of home, he also thought of his friends.

“I do,” he admitted.

 

...

 

It was early Wednesday morning when Suga woke up with the fuzzy and warm feeling from last night’s dinner still lingering.

If only he didn’t have to wake up so early, but there were things to do and places to go to and people to avoid.

Suga’s bed was comfortably warm and soft and on that morning, like on every morning so far, he had to have a mental fight with himself to crawl from the embrace of his downy comforter.

It was only early September and the floor wasn’t cold yet, but it still managed to wake Suga enough when his feet touched it, that he managed to stand up.

He cracked his joints as he walked to his kitchen, hearing the familiar gargle of his coffee maker and light bangs of his cupboards.

“Morning Hinata.” Suga greeted the shorter man, his eyes narrowing against the brightness of his kitchen light. It might be only September, but when you woke up early enough, it was still dark outside.

“Hey, Suga.” Hinata responded with a happy smile before his face scrunched in sudden worry. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, no.” Suga assured him and saw Hinata’s face break into his bright smile again. “Don’t worry. It was my bastard of an alarm clock that woke me.” Suga continued as he sat down by his kitchen island. “Did Kenma drink all the coffee in your apartment again last night?”

Hinata nodded his answer as he poured coffee into two cups. Suga knew he would, this had become their irregular routine a couple of years ago when the couple had moved into the building.

“He was playing through the whole night again. Not that I saw him do it, because I was asleep, but when I woke up, he was still hunched by his computer, buried in his sleeping bag, tap-tap-tapping and click-click-clicking away.”

“He’s still up?” Suga asked, taking a sip of the coffee that Hinata slid for him as he too sat down.

“Yeah.” Hinata nodded again. “I tried to get him to turn it off and go to sleep, but he wouldn’t budge.”

This behavior had first frightened Suga when he had learned that his neighbor sometimes went on all night gaming sprees. He had gotten used to it as time went on and now just provided Hinata with coffee in the mornings and brought food for Kenma so he could eat once he had crashed and slept.

“Guess he had gotten a serious bout of inspiration or something and wanted to complete it. I won’t know until he’s done, though.” Hinata shrugged. There was slight worry in his eyes.

“I’ll take some food for him later today, and make sure that he has gotten some sleep.” Suga promised, to cheer up his neighbor. In exchange, Hinata beamed at Suga his signature happy smile, the one Suga always envisioned him wearing when he came to Suga’s mind.

“Thank you, Suga.”

“Of course,” he smiled back.

It was quiet then, both of them sipping their coffees and re-energizing for their days. Suga was mentally going through his day’s agenda, trying to figure out what time to sneak into Hinata and Kenma’s apartment to deliver the food for Kenma, when his thoughts were interrupted by a quick flurry of knocks.

“Suga?” A voice called through the door, followed by another set of knocks.

With a sigh, Suga got up and walked to his front door to open it, already knowing who it was.

“Morning Kuroo.” Suga smiled jovially at the man, taking in his hair that was carefully crafted to look like a bed-head. He must’ve gotten up earlier to do it. Usually in the mornings when he was at Suga’s door, it was naturally disheveled, not meticulously combed like this. “How can I help you on this lovely morning?”

“Please tell me you have coffee. I need some coffee.” Kuroo spoke in a quick and hushed manner and Suga got the feeling that this was urgent.

“Yeah, Hinata just made some.” Suga gestured towards his coffee maker as he walked back from the door, Kuroo trailing after him.

“No, I need coffee grounds.” Kuroo clarified and Suga seated himself down next to Hinata, who was now visibly vibrating from the ingested caffeine.

“Hey Shrimp,” Kuroo said as he walked past the orange haired man and ruffled his hair. “I have a guy in my apartment and I want to offer him coffee when he wakes up. Which  
might be any minute now and I need to get back.”

“Oh, that explains why you knocked on my door instead of bursting through it like usual.” Suga commented and sipped his coffee, watching Kuroo frantically look through his cupboards in search of coffee.

Suga’s words momentarily halted Kuroo.

“I assumed the door would be locked. You were gone last night and I thought you might’ve come home with somebody. You always lock your door when you have someone over.”

Kuroo said as he continued to rifle through Suga’s kitchen.

Suga is flabbergasted.

“You know, Kuroo. This guy is definitely a keeper. I didn’t know anything could make you so considerate, but here we are.” Suga said, teasing him.

“I didn’t know you were dating anyone.” Hinata said then and pointed towards the coffee tin next to the coffee maker for Kuroo.

Kuroo grabbed it like it was his lifeline.

“Yeah, well, it’s pretty new and I didn’t want to jinx it.” Kuroo explained and hugged the coffee tin to his chest. “I mean, since I haven’t dated Suga and all,” he added with a smirk.

Suga knew his teasing wouldn’t go un-retaliated by Kuroo.

“Okay, I changed my mind. You can’t have the coffee.” Suga made a motion with his hand to grab the coffee from Kuroo.

Kuroo hissed at Suga and brought it closer to him, partially hidden under his arms. His smirk was gone in favor of glaring at Suga.

“No, I need it.”

“Maybe you should stop with the jokes about my ex-boyfriends, then.”

“Who says I’m joking?” Kuroo asked with a smirk back on his face.

“Kuroo’s right.” Hinata cut into their banter. “Is it really a joke when it’s the truth?” He had an honest expression on his face.

Suga sighed. Hinata was right, but that didn’t mean that he had to like the teasing.

“Hinata, don’t make me take away your coffee privileges at my place too.” Suga half-heartedly warned him.

“Please Suga,” Kuroo flapped his hand at him and released the death grip on the tin that, Suga was sure, has dented it. “You like us too much to do something like that.”

Suga fixed a glare towards the smirking man. “Don’t you have someone in your apartment that may or may not be awake already?” He reminded Kuroo.

“Right, right. I have to go.” Kuroo jolted as he remembered and started to leave Suga’s apartment.

“Tell us everything later,” Hinata called after him. “You’re not really going to ban me from coming here, right?” Hinata asked when he turned to look at Suga.

Suga smiled reassuringly at the younger man and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Of course not. Don’t worry. You’re always welcome.”

“Good,” Hinata sighed in relief and drank the last coffee in his cup. “Well, I have to go or I’ll be late.”

“Alright, see you later.” Suga nodded as Hinata put the cup in the sink. “Have a good day at work.”

“Thanks.” Hinata smiled his ever-so-bright smile that always filled Suga with happy thoughts. “Bye,” he called to Suga by the door and closed it softly after him.

Leaving Suga alone into the quiet of his apartment.

With a non-descript sigh Suga drank his coffee in one big gulp and got up.

“Good morning to me too,” he said to himself, putting his cup into the sink as well before he started to get ready for his day.

 

...

 

“Oh, this is a nice surprise.” Suga said when he answered a knock at his door. He had thought it was Asahi – he always knocked when he came to visit.

“Hey,” Terushima answered Suga’s smile with a one of his own.

Suga grabbed Terushima by his open jacket and pulled him inside and closed the door. “How’d you get up here?”

“Bokuto was leaving with Akaashi when I came.” Terushima answered and placed his hands on Suga’s cheeks and leaned in to kiss him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Suga smiled and kissed Terushima back.

“I’m not interrupting anything by coming over, am I?” Terushima asked as he took a step away from Suga. He liked the way Terushima looked at him when he took in his outfit of worn out light blue jeans and an old grey t-shirt with a hole by the collar.

He didn’t feel particularly good-looking in his ratty clothes, but the way Terushima looked at him, started a fire in his lower abdomen.

“No,” Suga smiled and grabbed Terushima by his jacket collar to bring him closer. “But why are you here?” Terushima smelled like cookies and Suga didn’t realize how much he liked that smell until he had met the man.

Terushima snaked his index fingers in Suga’s jeans’ belt loops and brought Suga’s hips against his. “I just wanted to see you.” Terushima whispered against Suga’s lips and kissed him, sliding his hands to Suga’s back to hold him close.

Suga wrapped his arms around Terushima’s shoulders. “Hmm, why do I get the idea that you’re not here just to see me?” Suga chuckled between passionate kisses and Terushima shrugged his jacket off, dropping it on the couch.

Terushima smiled wickedly at Suga, hands back on his hips. “Maybe I should’ve specified that I wanted to see you naked,” he said, leading Suga towards the bedroom. “My bad,” he chuckled against Suga’s lips.

Suga kept kissing Terushima with fervor when he was being walked backwards, guided by Terushima’s hands on his hips.

“Maybe you should make it up to me then?” He suggested and pulled his boyfriend’s shirt off when they entered the bedroom.

“Mm, gladly.” Terushima smiled wickedly again and pushed Suga gently on the bed and crawled after him, settling to straddle his hips.

 

...

 

“So, I did interrupt something when I came.” Terushima said as he and Suga caught their breaths. “You don’t usually dress like you’re a member of a grunge band.”

Suga chuckled at the remark. He was lying on his back, Terushima’s arm under his head. He was still trembling a little, coming down from his orgasm.

“I was just cleaning the spare bedroom. It was nothing important, don’t worry.” Suga answered, playing with Terushima’s fingers with light touches.

“For some special occasion?” Terushima spoke against Suga’s temple and planted a soft kiss there.

“A friend of a friend is going to stay here for a couple of days.”

“Oh.”

Suga noticed a hint of disappointment, or was it jealousy? in Terushima’s voice.

“A guy-friend?”

Now Suga was sure it’s jealousy.

“Yes.”

“Hmm...” Suga saw from his side-eye Terushima purse his lips. “When is he coming?”

“Tomorrow.”

Suga turned to his side to look at Terushima and rose to lean on his arm. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“A little,” Terushima admitted to the ceiling. His breathing had slowed down to normal, just like Suga’s. He lifted his hand to cradle Suga’s cheek with a soft look in his eyes.

Suga wanted to melt under that look, and maybe hide away from it a little.

“He gets to spend all day here with you and I don’t.”

Suga smiled softly.

Terushima was being too sweet.

“He probably works, so it won’t be all day.” Suga run his index finger along Terushima’s jaw and down his throat to his clavicle.

“What about the weekends?” Terushima reminded Suga, stroking his other hand through Suga’s hair.

“I’m mostly gone every day too.” Suga looked away from Terushima, thinking back how he spent most of his days out and about. “And maybe I could come see you too.” he looked back to Terushima and saw him smiling at the idea.

“You should definitely come and see me,” he agreed and rolled them over, their legs easily fitting and slotting between each other.

“Good, then I will.” Suga smiled and Terushima bended his head down to kiss him with open mouth, tongue slipping in between Suga’s lips.

“So,” Terushima said and grinded against Suga, “how important is it to finish the cleaning now, ‘cause...”

“I’m not busy right now.” Suga answered Terushima’s unfinished question with a little shake of his head and wrapped his arms around Terushima to bring him flush against him.

“Good.” Terushima managed to say in midst of their now suddenly hurried kisses and pants.

 

...

 

“Did I lock the door when you came?” Suga asked, completely spent by their activities. He was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be able to walk with his wobbly feet any time soon.

“You closed it.” Terushima answered in a musing tone, his fingers gliding up and down on Suga’s side.

Suddenly Suga was filled with dread that he might’ve not locked his front door. He was usually really good at remembering to lock it. Not out of fear of robbers or home invaders, but because he had neighbors who didn’t understand what intruding meant. Who had a very narrow understanding of privacy.

Suga tensed in Terushima’s arms when he heard a faint but very familiar voice.

“Oh no,” he said and started to sit up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh no, no, no.” Suga kept saying as he reached for his jeans and Terushima sat up after him.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong?” Terushima asked and run his hand down Suga’s back. It was almost comforting, but too fleeting as Suga was already standing, on wobbly legs, and buttoning up his jeans.

“We’re not alone in this apartment anymore,” Suga said, knowing it sounded a lot more ominous than it really was but he was beyond caring. It wasn’t the first time this had  
happened with Terushima.

Suga was definitely wobbly on his feet, his steps a little unsteady, but he willed himself forward. He stopped by his room door with his t-shirt in hand to glance back to Terushima.  
Even though this wasn’t the first time Terushima was witnessing Suga’s sudden panic, he still worried that he had spooked his boyfriend. But the man was smiling softly, looking amused as he also pulled his jeans back on.

Suga didn’t really understand why he found the fact that their sex had been once again eavesdropped on amusing, but was glad that he found it more funny than embarrassing.  
Suga put his shirt on as he stepped into his kitchen and halted to a stop to take in what he saw. What he knew he would see. Kuroo and Bokuto were sprawled on his two couches, munching on chips and watching TV.

They looked comfortable enough to have been there for a while now.

“What are you doing here?” Suga asked, alerting the men to his presence. They turned their heads over the back and armrest of the couch to look at him.

“You two done there now?” Kuroo asked. His smirk made Suga itch with a want to smack it away from his lips.

Suga crossed his arms in front of his chest so he wouldn’t act on the temptation of slapping Kuroo’s stupid smirk when he remembered a more important question to ask.

“When did you get here?”

“Some time around “Fuck, Yuuji!”,” Bokuto answered him. “But you said that a lot so I don’t know if that really answers your question or not,” he continued and stuffed chips in his mouth, crunching loudly and spreading crumbs all over Suga’s couch.

“Great.” Suga huffed under his breath, willing his creeping blush to creep away, as Terushima emerged from the bedroom, now fully clothed again.

Bokuto straightened to sit in more normal and civilized manner. “Hey Yuuji,” he exclaimed.

“Hey Bokuto.” Terushima greeted the happy man, more subdued than Bokuto had been. But he didn’t look embarrassed, Suga was glad to notice when he looked over his shoulder at him. “Kuroo.” Terushima nodded towards the other man.

“Well done, man,” Kuroo drawled, still wearing the same smirk, head still hanging upside down over the armrest. “Suga was clearly enjoying whatever it was that you were doing.”

Suga fought down the urge to slap that smirk away again. But it wasn’t probably his willpower that stopped him. Instead of marching over to Kuroo and smack him, his embarrassment made him hide his face in his hands and hope that he could crawl under a colossal rock.

This was exactly the reason he always tried to remember to lock his door when he had someone over. His neighbors were shameless voyeurs and Suga wasn’t convinced that they wouldn’t use the sounds they heard and the images those sounds would conjure up to jerk off later. The idea made him very uncomfortable and he preferred not to think about it.

Terushima, however, only chuckled at Kuroo’s words. He kissed Suga’s neck and wrapped his arms around Suga’s waist in a soothing manner before he brought them to rest on Suga’s hips. Suga still hoped that the earth would open up and swallow him whole and kept hiding his face in his hands. Terushima murmured comforting words in Suga’s ear as he was led further into the kitchen.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Terushima whispered in his ear.

Suga grumbled against his hands in response and he heard Terushima chuckle again, against his neck. It was nice in a weird way that Terushima found this all so amusing.

Suga felt Terushima draw his hands from his hips and he heard the fridge open.

“I don’t think they actually heard us at all.” Terushima kept murmuring and Suga liked how his voice lowered when he spoke quietly like this. Suga dropped his hands and looked at Terushima. “They’re just saying all those things to tease you because they know how easily you get embarrassed about sex.”

“Yuuji, they’ve heard us.” Suga whispered in a serious tone. Terushima smiled encouragingly at Suga and handed him a bottle of water.

“It’s either that or they’re scary good at guessing what we’ve said and what we’ve sounded like.”

Terushima laughed softly, eyes studying Suga’s face.

“You know, you don’t need to get embarrassed, right?” Terushima brushed Suga’s hair off his forehead. “And I don’t mind that they’ve heard us.” He left his hand on Suga’s cheek. It was warm and grounding and Suga found the courage to keep talking even when he knew that Kuroo and Bokuto could probably hear them.

“You don’t?” Suga asked, disbelieving him a little. How could he not mind?

Terushima shook his head in answer.

“It’s just...” Suga stopped to find the right words and Terushima patiently waited for him continue. He kept brushing Suga’s cheekbone with his thumb.

“I sometimes worry about that.” Suga said and hooked his index finger through Terushima’s belt loop to keep in contact with him.

“You don’t need to.” Terushima assured Suga and kissed him. “Okay?” He asked, his thumb keeping up with the gentle strokes on his cheek.

It was comforting. Suga felt his embarrassment flee his body.

“Okay.” Suga nodded and gave a small kiss on Terushima’s lips in response to the one he got.

“Are you two done with the romantic crap already or are we still in danger off puking if we keep listening to you two?” Kuroo rudely cut in.

Terushima chuckled again, his shoulders moving with it, and Suga took a deep breath before he turned around to look at the man on the couch.

“I’d get a bucket,” he advised Kuroo and turned back to Terushima to kiss him again, wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

“Ugh.” Suga heard from behind him, but he didn’t spare it a thought when Terushima’s body pressed against his and a tongue licked on his lower lip, seeking entrance.

“If you two are going to really get into it again, let me fetch some lube and tissues.” Kuroo’s voice cut in again and stopped Suga and Terushima’s kiss when Terushima lowered his head and his whole body started to shake with his chuckles.

“He’s incorrigible,” Suga grumbled biting his lip, letting his arms drop to his sides.

“Like I said, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” Terushima reminded Suga with a caress to his side.

Suga smiled in response. “Good. Come with me.”

He took Terushima’s hand into his and started to walk towards the couches, eyeing their sitting options. Both couches were occupied and it looked like Kuroo and Bokuto tried to cover as much of the couches surface as they could - which was easy to them with their unfair height.

“I get that you came to eat my chips, but why would you stay to watch the TV here, when you both have TV’s in your apartments.” Suga asked, letting go of Terushima’s hand and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tried to glare at Kuroo and Bokuto, but closed his eyes when he realized what he just introduced as a topic of conversation.

Terushima chuckled quietly next to Suga, his hand reaching for contact as it smoothed down on Suga’s back. Bokuto leered at them and Kuroo jumped to the occasion.

“But the sound effects here were so much better.”

Suga shook his head at himself, looking up to the ceiling and hoped for the umpteenth time that he had better friends, different friends. Terushima moved from his side towards Bokuto.

“You know,” Terushima said and sat on Bokuto’s stomach, causing and “unf” out of him. “I don’t think it’s fair that you two have heard me and Suga having sex, but we haven’t heard you two.” He wiggled a little with his body, making Bokuto turn a little green.

“Dude, we’re not together.” Kuroo said, making a motion with his hand pointing between him and Bokuto.

“That’s okay,” Terushima shrugged. “It’s just sex.”

“I have a boyfriend.” Bokuto sounded a little breathless, and looked really uncomfortable with Terushima’s weight pressing on his abdomen.

Suga kept looking at them with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Can’t he join you two?” Terushima asked, innocently, but Suga knew that look on his eyes, that devilish suggestive look. He hid it well with his voice, but it was there.

“No!” Bokuto strained to shout. “Get off!” He tried to shove Terushima off of him. “I’m gonna barf.”

Terushima got up leisurely, taking his time. Bokuto dove over to the other couch as soon as he was able to and sprawled on Kuroo.

“Let me cuddle you, Kuroo.” Bokuto said and Kuroo laughed. “Yuuji is too rough at loving me.”

“Are you sure you aren’t together?” Terushima teased them as he sat back down on the couch and Suga settled next to him.

“Dude, our love is so pure it can’t be tainted with dirty words and actions.” Kuroo said with a haughty smirk.

Suga snorted at this.

“You look cute together, though.” Terushima observed, head tilted to the side as he kept looking at them.

“Duh,” Bokuto said and pet Kuroo’s cheek. “Of course we do.”

Suga smiled at the genuine tone of Bokuto’s words and leaned into Terushima.

I guess my friends aren’t all that bad, Suga thought as he tuned out the rest of the conversation. He was happy.

And he was afraid it wouldn’t last.

It had been too good for too long and Suga had tried to enjoy it without thinking further into the horribleness that was bound to come around the corner at some point.  
He didn’t want to think about it. He was happy now, his friends were happy now, and that was what mattered, that was most important.

 

...

 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa answered his phone.

“Hey, oh, hold on.”

Oikawa waited and listened to the sounds coming from Iwaizumi’s end of the call. He was talking with someone else and it vaguely sounded like Daichi. Oikawa couldn’t make out their words, but tone was easy going.

“I’m back,” Iwaizumi said. “Sorry about that.”

“Was that Daichi?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi brushed Oikawa’s question away with his matter of fact –tone. “So, listen. We found you a place to stay while you look for a new apartment.”

That would explain the call so late in the night. Iwaizumi preferred to text usually.

“There’s no way I’m moving to some shitty studio apartment and pay for it while I try to find another place.” Oikawa said immediately. There was no way.

“I know. Just listen, will you?” Iwaizumi snapped.

Oikawa sighed. It’s not like he had a lot of options anyway. He might have to accept that he’s living situation would change drastically, very soon. He stepped away from the box he had been packing.

“Do you remember Sugawara?”

“No.”

The name didn’t ring any bells for him.

“He’s Daichi’s best friend. I’m sure you’ve met before.”

Oikawa was silent, trying to rack his brain for recognition of the name.

“He has grey kind of silver hair. Everyone calls him Suga.”

Ah, Suga

Yes, Oikawa remembered him. An interesting man. But they’d only met a couple of times, probably two years ago. Oikawa wondered if the man was still as interesting.

“Oh, yeah,” he drawled. “What about him?”

“He has an empty room in his apartment and he said that you can stay there while you look for an apartment. He said you don’t even have to pay for the upkeep.”

“So, it’s a pity offer.” Oikawa let his voice drip with bitterness.

“Of course not.” Iwaizumi started to sound frustrated. “Look, you need a place to stay and he offered to help. That’s all.”

Oikawa didn’t know if that was all, he didn’t know Sugawara well enough. But he wanted to believe Iwaizumi. The man had been tireless in helping him the past weeks. He couldn’t be more grateful for his best friend.

And he really didn’t have any more choices.

He had already packed his belongings and they waited in boxes for Thursday. For eviction day. It was unfair that Oikawa had to move just because some entitled brat needed an apartment and his lease happened to be up.

“Where does Sugawara-san even live?”

“Fifteen minute walk to school.”

Oikawa didn’t have any reasons to refuse anymore.

He needed a place to stay. Check. Iwaizumi had found him one.

The place was close to school. Check. It was important to him.

He didn’t need to pay for it. Check? He didn’t exactly like that. It made him feel like a freeloader.

“I’m still going to pay Sugawara for letting me stay in his apartment. I mean, it might take at least a week that I find a new place.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Suga, I can’t talk for him. But I do know him pretty well and he won’t accept any payment. Trust me. He’s doing a kindness and he doesn’t want anything in exchange for that.”

“I’ll make him.” Oikawa half-heartedly threatened. If Suga wouldn’t accept money, he’d come up with another way to pay him back.

He’d have to figure out what the man was like first though, what he liked.

Iwaizumi laughed at his resolve and threat. “Okay, whatever.”

Oikawa sighed at the sound and started to pick on the worn out fabric of his pants.

“Thank you Iwa-chan,” he said with all the meaning he could convey in those lacking words.

He’d have to come up with something for Iwaizumi too for all his help. Thanks to him, Oikawa didn’t need to go live in a seedy motel or expensive hotel. He didn’t need to go live under a bridge. But what could the man who never wanted for anything, want?

“I’ll see you Thursday.” Iwaizumi said and Oikawa heard him stifle a yawn.

“Yep. Bright and early,” he chirped and hung up on Iwaizumi’s sigh. He knew that Iwaizumi didn’t wake up early easily, ever, and he remembered how the man had grumbled in the mornings when he had early class.

Oikawa lied down on his bed and sighed in relief. He started to look forward to Thursday instead of dreading it.

He looked forward to meeting Suga again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa moves in  
> That's it  
> That's all that happens in this chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hurried through this chapter. I don't know why.

 

 

“Hey,” Suga answered his phone.

“Hey, we’re here.” Daichi said and Suga could hear cars going by in the background.

“Oh, I’ll be right down to open the door.” Suga hung up and sprinted down the stairs to open the building’s door.

It was always locked and the call buttons didn’t work. Suga didn’t mind, and neither did any of the other residents, so no one had bothered to have it fixed. This kept away non-residents. Only drawback was that visitors had to call when they arrived and you had to go downstairs to open the door. Another one was that take out was kind of hard to get delivered.

As Suga was running down the building’s stairs, he hoped he’d done all he could in his apartment to make his visitor’s stay comfortable. He didn’t move anything around much, mainly just made sure that his “guest room” was ready.

“Sorry, you had to wait.” Suga offered Daichi an apologetic smile when he opened the door and propped it open leaning his shoulder against it.

“That’s okay.” Daichi waved Suga’s apology away.

“Hey, Iwaizumi-san.” Suga greeted him with a kind smile and the man nodded and gestured behind him. Suga froze when he recognized the third man, his heart skipping a beat.

Oh no.

This was not good.

“You remember Oikawa, right?” Iwaizumi asked. Suga nodded, stunned to silence. He was trying to find his wits so he could speak again. It would be awful bad luck to lose the ability to speak at a time like that. Not to mention rude if he didn’t acknowledge and greet the man properly.

“Hello Oikawa-san. It has been a while.”

Oikawa grinned at Suga with a dazzling smile and made a little wave with his hand that was probably supposed to be charming.

“It sure has,” he said and Suga wasn’t sure how to proceed now. It was like he had forgotten how to function. Seeing Oikawa had thrown him off.

“Shall we go up?” Daichi prompted and Suga nodded, mechanically turning and starting up the stairs. He heard the others follow him.

“Let me show you your room.” Suga said when they entered his apartment, and he was glad that his voice was steady. He didn’t really stammer _ever_ , but Oikawa had really thrown him off his game and anything was possible at this stage.

He still hadn’t looked behind him since he started ascending the stairs, but he could hear Daichi, Iwaizumi and Oikawa still follow him, their soft footsteps on the floor.

“You can leave all your stuff here.” Suga opened the door wider.

The room was like his, it fit a bed, a desk and shelf. There was a small walk-in closet and an old armchair. The walls were soft and light blue and currently lit by the setting sun let in by one window.

Oikawa walked in the room, shot a charming smile towards Suga as he passed him, and dropped the bag he was carrying on the bed.

“Do you think we can prop the downstairs door open so we can carry Oikawa’s stuff in? Or are your neighbors going to get into a huff about it?” Daichi asked Suga, leaning against the hallway wall.

Suga took a note of how nonchalant Daichi was _trying_ to look.

Daichi’s question, however, was more important to acknowledge than his faked nonchalance, as it somewhat surprised Suga. “You need to make more than just one trip up and down the stairs?”

“Oikawa has a lot of shit,” Iwaizumi said with a gruff.

“Hey!” Oikawa exclaimed indignantly. “It’s all essential,” he said with a little pout.

Suga saw Iwaizumi and Daichi roll their eyes as they traded a look.  

“You can prop the door open, its fine. Everyone does when they move in or out.” Suga smiled at Daichi and started to walk away. He found that it was easier to talk and walk like a human being when he wasn’t looking straight at Oikawa - which could become very hard when it was just Oikawa and him in the apartment. He needed to figure out a way to cope, very soon.

“Do you need help carrying the stuff in?” Suga offered.

He directed the question to Daichi and Iwaizumi, but Oikawa was the one to answer.

“No need. We got it.”

“Oh, okay.” Suga wasn’t disappointed. “Shall I order some pizza then?” He offered instead. If he kept busy, he wouldn’t have to look at Oikawa.

“Thank you, Sugawara-san.” Oikawa said.

Suga couldn’t tell if he was serious when he said it and he couldn’t stop the little spurt of laughter. 

“What?” Oikawa looked a mix of offended and confused when Suga turned to look at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Suga apologized. “It’s just been a while since anyone’s called me Sugawara-san. Please, just call me Suga.”

“Okay, Suga-chan.” Oikawa agreed with a grin and Suga knew then that he really shouldn’t have laughed. Being called Suga-chan was clearly meant to be payback.

Well, guess he could live with it. If he thought of it as a nickname. He could come to like it, right? Right?

As long as he didn’t come to like it too much. Oikawa was tall and gorgeous enough already and Suga didn’t need to add any more attractive qualities to the list of things he knew about the man.

“Come on, Oikawa, let’s get your shit from the car.” Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward a step or two.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa left the apartment, bickering, but Daichi stayed with Suga inside the apartment.  

“Are you okay?” Daichi asked carefully.

Suga turned to look at him and saw the familiar worry in his best friend’s expression.

“You failed to mention that this friend who needs a place to stay for a couple of day is Oikawa.” Suga muttered, looking away from Daichi.  

“Yeah,” Daichi raised his hand to his neck. “I might’ve guessed you might say no if you’d know it was Oikawa.” He lowered his eyes to the floor.

“So, you were purposefully avoiding mentioning his name on Tuesday?”

“Maybe.”

Suga sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking out the window. He wasn’t mad. But he wasn’t happy with Daichi either.

He could feel Daichi’s eyes studying him.

“This isn’t going to be a problem, is it?” Daichi asked tentatively. “Oikawa staying with you.”

Suga sighed again and unfurled his arms. He couldn’t be mad at Daichi.

“No, I don’t think so.” Suga turned to look at him.

It’s not going to be a problem, he swore to himself. “You said that he tends to be alone, right? And I can go stay at a friend’s place if need be.”

“You know, I didn’t think that you still had a crush on him.” 

“I don’t,” Suga denied, speaking the truth. “But I don’t need it to raise its ugly head again.”

It had been almost two years already. But Suga could still remember how it had felt to look at Oikawa and how it had felt to want him.

“I get it,” Daichi nodded. “Are you going to be okay, though?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Suga assured his best friend with a smile.

“Good,” Daichi said with a relieved smile. “Then, tell me, how is it going with Terushima-san?”

“It’s going well.” Suga smiled.

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

Suga averted his eyes from Daichi and went to the kitchen.

“By the way, when is that going to happen?” Daichi followed him.

Suga didn’t have an answer. He would love for his best friend and boyfriend to meet, but... It just never seemed to happen. He hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to make it happen, and maybe he should. Five months was a long time for them not to meet.

“I mean, you’re serious about this guy, right? More so than the ones you dated before.” Daichi’s expression and voice were kind.

Suga nodded.

“Or is there some reason you _don’t_ want us to meet? Like, is there something wrong with him?” Daichi’s voice lilted with teasing.

“There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“I’m not entirely convinced.”

Suga rolled his eyes.

“It’s like you’re trying to hide him from me. I just want a face to go with the name and everything you’ve told me.”

“Jeez, you’re worse than my mother.”

Daichi chuckled.

And then he turned serious.

“Wait. Has your mother met him?” He demanded.

Suga avoided Daichi’s eyes. It was probably as good an answer as any.

“Suga, does she even know that you’re in a serious relationship with someone?”

“No,” Suga said to the floor.

“Suga, you need to tell her. She should know.”

“I know. And I will tell her.” Suga promised. He meant it. He had planned on telling his mother, but it wasn’t that straightforward with her. “Someday.”

“Suga...”

“Daichi, you’ll meet Yuuji, I promise. Soon. And then I’ll tell my mom and wait for five months until she meets him.” Suga ended the sentence in a lopsided grin to tell Daichi that he wasn’t serious.

“You’re the devil,” Daichi stated calmly, eyeing Suga.

Suga grinned wider and hit Daichi on the shoulder, leaving his hand there.

“Two pizzas are enough, right?” Suga fished his phone from his pocket with his other hand.

“Sure,” Daichi nodded easily. “But what are you and Oikawa going to eat?”

Four pizzas it is then.

Suga let his hand fall from Daichi’s shoulder and turned away from him as he dialed the number of his favorite pizzeria.

“You do not need your life-sized alien plushie.” Suga heard Iwaizumi’s voice as he and Oikawa walked in.

Oikawa’s response to Iwaizumi was lost to Suga, though, when his call was answered and he turned away to focus on ordering.

When he hung up with the pizzeria with the promise that the pizza would be delivered in 45 minutes, Iwaizumi and Oikawa were gone again.

He turned to look at Daichi again. “Does Oikawa know that I used to have a crush on him?” Suga asked carefully, voice lowered to an almost whisper.

“I never told him, or Hajime.” Daichi answered, leaning against the kitchen island with his hands. “So I don’t think he knows.”

“That’s good.”

Suga was about to turn towards his fridge, but Daichi’s expression stopped him. It was furrowed with confusion and uncertainty.  

“What?”

“Nothing.” Daichi shook his head. “You just looked a little... disappointed?” He tilted his head to look at Suga in another angle.

Suga frowned. Disappointed? Why would he be disappointed that Oikawa didn’t know about his old crush?

He opened the fridge to offer Daichi something to drink.

And then he remembered: there was no food in the fridge.

He forgot to go grocery shopping.

 

...

 

Oikawa woke up slowly, taking in his surroundings piece by piece. The unfamiliar scent of the sheets he was lying in. The different way light poured in through the window and made shadow patterns on the ceiling. The quiet way the city’s noise could be heard through the walls, the noise that followed him everywhere in this city.

But apart from the sounds coming through the walls, it was quiet inside the apartment. But for the first time in so long, he didn’t feel the overwhelming weight of silence pressing on him. It didn’t feel alienating, or isolating when he moved around in the room.

He dressed in his normal day clothes, because he didn’t feel comfortable enough to walk around Suga’s apartment in his pajamas. His softer-than-clouds-pajamas.

Suga had told him last night that he could be as he would at home. It was clear the grey haired man was trying to make him _feel_ at home.

After he and Iwaizumi had brought his stuff to the apartment, and remembered to close the downstairs door when Suga reminded them, he was given the tour.

The apartment wasn’t big, but he could tell that two people, even three, could live there comfortably and without piling over each other. Oikawa had wondered how Suga could afford the rent alone. Iwaizumi had informed him that Suga had lived there alone for over a year now.

The furniture wasn’t old, but it wasn’t new either. And apart from a few black and white pictures on the wall and on the living room shelf, it was clear the Suga wasn’t fan of decoration. There were no knick-knacks scattered around the available surfaces. The kitchen was small and divided from the living room with an island. The dining table had scuff marks and carved kanji’s here and there and none of the six chairs matched.

One of the pictures on a wall that caught Oikawa’s eye was a black-and-white scenery of mountains. It looked vaguely familiar and he was certain he’d seen the mountains before but couldn’t place when or where. He knew it would come to him later and he didn’t concern himself further with it.

The impression the apartment gave, was that it was warm. Someone had cared about the space, most likely Suga, and made it seem and look like a home to any visitor.  

Ah, Suga-chan.

Oikawa had called him that first to see how he’d react to it. But the grey haired man had only pursed his lips a little before his face turned back to its default open and disarming smile. And then he had kept calling him Suga-chan because he _wanted_ Suga to react to it. He was left disappointed on that front.

Other than that little detail, the night had been pleasant. Iwa-chan and Daichi had stayed late and the four of them had watched some of old sci-fi movie Oikawa hadn’t given much attention to. The way Suga had sometimes looked at him and then away had been distracting.

He wasn’t sure if Suga was waiting for him to sprout a second head or if he was trying to catch him at doing... something? He didn’t know what, but it had been distracting and it made Oikawa wonder about Suga’s behavior.

Oikawa checked the time on his cell phone.

Dressed and ready for breakfast, Oikawa quietly opened his door. It had squeaked a little last night when he had opened and closed it and he wanted to avoid it in case it woke Suga up. Iwaizumi had numerous times reminded him that he was a guest and that he should act accordingly. Honestly, what was Iwaizumi so worried about? He was the perfect picture of politeness and good manners. Silly Iwa-chan.

 It was still quiet in the apartment when Oikawa walked towards the kitchen. He strained his ears to hear a tell-tale sound that would tell him where Suga was or what he was doing.

“Morning.” Suga surprised Oikawa with a smile when he walked into the kitchen. Suga was sitting by the kitchen island with a bowl in front of him and chopsticks halfway into his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you Suga-chan.” Oikawa flashed a wide and forced smile towards him.

“I’m glad.” Suga said, still smiling a little, and continued to eat his breakfast. There was still no reaction to the –chan on Suga’s face.

Oikawa opened the fridge to examine its contents. There wasn’t much else but countless jars and bottles of hot sauces in different levels of near emptiness and Oikawa pursed his lips in thought. Suga must really like spicy food.

Suga must’ve noticed it.

“I know it’s a bit bare, but I’m going grocery shopping today. If there’s anything you want me to get, let me know.”

Oikawa looked at Suga around the open fridge door. “Okay, thanks,” he said, but thought that he’d do his own grocery shopping. It was already a lot that Suga was letting him stay as long as he needed to without paying for rent or water or electricity. He didn’t need or want Suga to pay to feed him as well.

He turned back to look into the fridge. He wasn’t that hungry to tell the truth. But Suga had a coffee maker and he definitely craved for some. Suga had said that he was welcome to eat and drink anything in the kitchen.

It was a nice surprise to see some made already. Was Suga a coffee drinker as well?

“So, what do you have planned for today?” Suga asked while Oikawa poured coffee for himself. 

He took a sip of the coffee and made a face at the bitter taste. He poured in milk and spooned a liberal amount of sugar in it before he answered. Honestly, he had drunk coffee for years now and always put in milk and sugar. Why would he try to drink it without now?

“Well, I have school and then Iwa-chan has promised to go see a few apartments with me.”

“It must be tough trying to find an apartment in middle of a semester,” Suga mused, focusing his eyes down to his breakfast.

“Tough, but also motivating. The sooner I find a place, the sooner I’m out of your hair.” Oikawa leaned his back against the cool surface of the fridge and dazzled Suga with his most charming smile.

“I’m not too worried about that,” Suga said with an amused smile. “Iwaizumi promised that he’d come and kick you out of here himself if you haven’t found a place by winter break.”

“Yeah, that’s motivating too. It wouldn’t be ideal to be homeless in middle of the coldest season,” he smirked and sipped his, now much better tasting, coffee.

“I’m sure you have friends who would take you in so they wouldn’t have to worry about you freezing to death.”

“You think too highly of me, Suga-chan.”

“Can you promise that I won’t come to regret it?” Suga kept smiling at Oikawa and it was really disarming.

Oikawa had decided early on last night that he liked Suga’s smiles. He had so much variety when it came to the smiles he flashed, each one as beautiful as the moon on a night sky. He had also decided that he kind of liked Suga’s easy and biting wit.

“No,” he deadpanned and finished his coffee before he turned to pour more into his cup, adding the milk and sugar.

“Okay.”

Suga didn’t seem too worried about that when Oikawa glanced at him over his shoulder. He had thought it already last night and he thought it now again - his time with Suga could be interesting. There was much to learn about the man.

“Do you want to eat dinner tonight together?” Suga asked suddenly, his face open and honest instead of teasing.

Oikawa blinked at Suga. “Sure.”

Definitely interesting.

 

...

 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa answered his phone.

“Trashkawa.” Iwaizumi’s gruff voice said with a hint of irritation. “Come open the door.”

“Huh?”

It took a second too long for Oikawa to get what he meant.

“Oh, right. I’ll be right down.” He hung up and went downstairs to open the building’s door.

It would take some time to get used to the fact that there probably wouldn’t be too many knocks on the apartment’s door.

Maybe Oikawa wouldn’t even live here long enough for him to get used to the fact that he’d have to walk the stairs down and up every time he got a visitor.

“Hey,” he greeted Iwa-chan when he opened the door, letting wind blow inside.

“Took your time,” he said as he followed Oikawa upstairs.

“I’m not used to walking two sets of stairs to open a door for someone.” Oikawa defended himself. “Does Suga-chan do this every time you come to visit?”

“Yep,” Iwaizumi answered, his voice still a little gruff. “We don’t visit that often though.”

Now, that had definitely taken some time to get used to. For so long “we” had been him and Iwa-chan. It still sometimes, though rarely, halted him.

He knew that that was the reason why Iwa-chan had never offered for Oikawa to stay with him after he had learned of the inevitable eviction.

They were best friends, but there was history that made it impossible for them to spend extended periods of time together. Hanging out now and then was okay. But spending a night in the same apartment, even if they slept in different rooms, was too similar to the time they had been dating.

“Daichi has a key to Suga’s place, but whenever we come to visit, he somehow forgets it and has to call Suga to come and open the door.”

“Do you think he forgets it on purpose? To make Suga run up and down the stairs?” Oikawa suggested with a smirk. He knew it wasn’t exactly in Daichi’s character to be tormenting like that, but he and Suga were best friends and from what he observed Thursday night suggested that there was a fair amount of teasing going on between them.

The thought that Suga and Daichi might have dated at some point lingered in his mind for a second before he brushed it off as he opened the apartment’s door.

“By the way, is Suga home?” Iwaizumi asked and Oikawa closed the door after they stepped inside the warm apartment.  

“No. He left early this morning, but didn’t say where.”

“He already trusts you to be alone in his apartment?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa didn’t like the incredulity in Iwaizumi’s voice and narrowed his eyes at the man. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The answer didn’t satisfy Oikawa. He knew that Iwaizumi knew. He just chose not to include Oikawa into his opinion on the matter.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes more, but let it go, for now.

“Do you want something to drink?” He offered and made his way to the kitchen, Iwaizumi following his lead.  

Iwaizumi perched himself by the kitchen island. “Tea, if you’re making some.”

“So, what’d you do last night? Did you unpack?” He asked as Oikawa took down two cups.

Oikawa liked how he sounded and looked genuinely intrigued.

Daichi had been good to Iwaizumi. Their relationship had been good to him. Oikawa remembered him being a little more reserved when they were dating. Or maybe he became more open as he got older. Oikawa preferred to think though, that it was mostly thanks to Daichi.

“I studied and when Suga-chan came home we ate dinner and watched a movie together.” Oikawa accounted his day as he made their tea. “And then I studied a bit more before I crashed.”

“You crashed? Did you stay up late?”

Now there was worry in Iwaizumi’s voice that Oikawa recognized too well.

He gave a negative answer and offered Iwaizumi a cup filled with green tea.

Iwaizumi took the cup with a nod of thanks. “How have you been sleeping?” He kept talking in his worried tone.

“Really well, actually.” Oikawa answered looking down to his cup. And it should have surprised him like it did Iwaizumi.

“Really?”

Oikawa frowned at him in question.

“It’s just that you’ve never been good at sleeping in new and strange places,” Iwaizumi explained.

That was true, Oikawa remembered. The first time he had spent a night in Iwaizumi’s place when they were kids, he couldn’t sleep at all. The same thing happened when they were teenagers and later in college as well.

Oikawa didn’t want to think too hard what it meant that he was able to sleep in Suga’s apartment. He didn’t want to think about its implications. So, he brushed that thought away as well and leaned against the kitchen island to drink his tea.

“What about you? What did you do last night?” Oikawa asked, changing the topic.

Iwaizumi jumped to excitedly recount his last night’s shift filled with heroic actions.

 

...

 

Suga rang the doorbell and waited no longer than five seconds before the door opened.

“Hey,” Terushima greeted him with a happy smile and pulled Suga in by the strap of his camera bag. “You look great,” he added when he looked Suga up and down.

“Thanks,” he smiled and gave Terushima a kiss. Suga blushed a little under Terushima’s appreciative gaze. He liked that Terushima was so free with compliments.

“How’s it going with your temporary roommate?” Terushima asked, full of genuine interest as he watched Suga take off his shoes.

Suga put down his bag in the hallway and followed Terushima further into his apartment.

“It’s alright. He tends to hang in his room.”

“Do I need to get worried or jealous?” Terushima asked and stopped in his living room to pull Suga in his arms.

“Jealous? Why?”

“Because you’ve dressed really nicely today and I was wondering if it was because of him.” Terushima answered and looked Suga in his eyes. There wasn’t a trace of worry or jealousy in him though, and Suga’s smile turned softer.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” Suga assured and kissed him to chase away such thoughts.

Terushima was a little out of breath when their lips weren’t locked anymore. His arms were tight around Suga’s waist, pressed on his back under the shirt to keep him close.

Suga considered his distraction a success. “I’m dressed nicely for you.” He kissed Terushima again.

Terushima seemed pleased by Suga’s words, if his humming against Suga’s lips was any indicator. Or the way his hands traveled to Suga’s jeans’ button.

“Too bad then that you’re not going to spend much time in them,” he whispered in Suga’s ear and Suga shivered at the way his breath broke on Suga’s neck.

Suga’s hands moved from Terushima’s shoulders to his hair and he pulled on it when they’re lips touched again.

Suga’s breathing got heavier and quicker as Terushima unzipped Suga’s jeans in one smooth motion.

“I haven’t even been five minutes in your apartment and you’re already taking my pants off,” Suga joked.

Terushima started to steer him towards the couch.

“Do you not like it?” Terushima’s voice was very suggestive and Suga’s lower belly filled with warmth.

“No, no objections here.” Suga shook his head and Terushima kissed him with more want, more force and more passion.

Suga’s hands traveled across Terushima’s body, pressing on his lean muscles and appreciating the feel of his skin. It felt hotter and hotter by the minute under Suga’s cool fingertips.

He didn’t remember ever wanting anyone as much as he wanted Terushima, all the time. It was a heady and all-consuming feeling and Suga wanted to drown in it. He wanted to drown in him.

 

...

 

“I was right,” Terushima mused, his fingertips caressing Suga’s arm.

“About what?” Suga was still a little breathless and sensitive and he could feel Terushima’s touch everywhere on his body.

“Your jeans look good on my floor.”

Suga snorted at Terushima’s comment. It was cheesy as hell, and Suga’s body started to shake with his giggling.

“Too cheesy?”

“I don’t think I can pass any judgement when I’ve thought that exact thought before when I saw your pants on my floor.” Suga answered and Terushima joined him in laughter.

“Cheesy and good-looking pants on the ground. I guess we found each other.” Terushima said, laughter still in his voice.

“Are you trying to say that we’re soulmates?” Suga joked, lifting his head to look at Terushima.

“No, I’m not that cheesy.” Terushima denied and Suga was glad.

“Good,” Suga whispered his answer and kissed Terushima’s shoulder before he sat up.  

Good, Suga thought to himself.

“Are you hungry?” Terushima asked, his finger gently running down Suga’s spine.

“Yes,” Suga answered immediately, looking at him over his shoulder.

Terushima sat up too. “Want to order take out?”

“Sounds good.”

Terushima cupped Suga’s head in his hands and gave a soft kiss on Suga’s lips. He kept looking at Suga as his hands traveled down Suga’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms to his hands with the gentlest touch on his skin.

“What?” Suga asked quietly, holding Terushima’s tender gaze.

“I’m crazy about you.” Terushima spoke as softly as Suga and smiled affectionately at him.

Suga answered his smile by taking his hands from Terushima’s and placing them behind Terushima’s neck and head, bringing his lips closer.

“I’m absolutely bonkers about you too.” Suga whispered against Terushima’s lips and kissed him.

“Good,” Terushima said when their lingering kiss ended. Neither of them moved for a second or 60.

The living room was silent, but there was no need for words or sounds. They were enough, more than, just as they were, together, content as they held onto each other and traded soft kisses.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Suga said after a particularly tender kiss that made his heart skip a beat, he could feel it stutter in his veins.

“I’ll come too when I’ve ordered the food.” Terushima reached for his jeans and took out his phone. “Any preferences?”

“Anything spicy is good.”

Terushima nodded and gave one more kiss before Suga stood up and went to the shower.

 

...

 

It was Sunday and Oikawa was in the kitchen eating breakfast by the island, scrolling through his phone when the front door opened. Oikawa looked up, ready to greet Suga, but instead of Suga, he saw a young man shuffling in, dragging his feet a little and closing the door softly.

Was this normal occurrence in this apartment? Did people, or just this man, come every Sunday morning? Or was this totally random and something he should alert Suga about?

“Umm...” Oikawa said, unsure how to proceed.

The man’s face was partially hidden behind his dyed blond hair and his shoulders were little hunched as he kept his hands in his hoodies’ pockets when he walked into the kitchen.

Oikawa watched with veiled interest as the man took down a cup and poured coffee into it. He watched as the man took milk from the fridge, poured some into the coffee and put it back into the fridge.

Oikawa followed with his eyes as the man yawned and started to walk back towards the front door with the cup in his hand and left without saying a word. Had he even noticed Oikawa in the kitchen?

“What the hell?” Oikawa thought to himself.

The morning got even weirder after that, when Oikawa had propped his laptop on the kitchen island. He was looking through listings for apartments and sipping his third cup of coffee that morning when another man burst through the door with evident hurry.

“Suga, I need to borrow your charger!” The man shouted as he run through the apartment in a blur of grey hair. Oikawa watched him go with a slack jaw. He could hear a distant bang and thought that the man hit his toe or knee on something, based on the curse that followed right after. Only five seconds later, yes he counted, the man was back in sight, now hopping hurriedly to the front door with a charger in his hand. And as suddenly as he arrived, he was gone.

“What the fuck?”

And then it got even weirder.

Another man walked in without any courtesy, took off his shirt while walking through the living room and dining area. “Suga, I need to borrow a shirt,” he called on his way.

This was just getting ridiculous.

Oikawa wondered whether these people even cared if Suga was here, if they ever checked when they came in and before they took something of Suga’s.

And he wondered if Suga minded that his apartment was like a train station, people coming and going, taking and borrowing.

Oikawa contemplated on locking the door when the cropped-hair-guy left, but remembered what Suga had said.

_“I tend to keep the front door open, but if you ever feel the need to lock it, you can.”_

Suga’s words had been kind and gentle, but he had had a look of distress in his eyes when he had spoken about the prospect of locking his door.

Oikawa didn’t consider locking the door because he minded the people, or the shirtless men, but because he wasn’t sure if this was normal or something they took advantage of when Suga wasn’t here.

“Yeah, I’ll check if Suga has any,” someone spoke as the door opened once again and an orange haired, very young looking man walked in. He was talking on a phone and his eyes grew almost comically wide when his eyes met with Oikawa’s.

Guess he wasn’t expecting anyone, or at least Oikawa to be here.

Oikawa thought the man looked barely 20, with his youthful air and wild and bright hair.

“Yeah, no, I’m still here,” the man said to his phone. “But I’m not the only one here,” he whispered. Oikawa tried to suppress his snort at the whisper and terrified wide eyes.

“Oh, he was?” Oikawa noticed the mystery person’s stance change from frozen and tense into a relaxed one.“I’ll ask.”

Even though Oikawa could only hear one side of the phone conversation, he could deduce what they were talking about.

“Who are you?” The man meant the question for Oikawa, walking towards him, the phone still pressed to his ear. “How do you know Suga?”

“Oikawa Tooru.” Oikawa introduced himself. “I’m Suga-chan’s friend.”

“Oh,” the man said, his face slipping into a thoughtful expression. “Did you hear that?” He once again spoke to the person on the other end of the call, walking past Oikawa and the kitchen island to a tall cupboard.

He opened it, and Oikawa presumed he was listening to the voice on the other end of the call.

“Yeah. Uh-huh. Yeah...” The man agreed to something as he rummaged through Suga’s food. “Ye- I found them!” He exclaimed so suddenly, Oikawa inhaled his coffee.

The man turned around, looking worriedly at the coughing Oikawa.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” the man said and pockets his phone.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pouring a glass of water and placing it next to Oikawa’s laptop.

Oikawa gulped down some of the water, thankful for it, while the man waited patiently for him to stop coughing.

“Thanks for the water,” Oikawa rasped and cleared his throat.

“Sorry to scare you.” The man put his hand behind his head. “My friends and family are used to me shouting without a warning.”

“Who are you?” Oikawa asked then. He had waited to ask the question ever since the man had walked inside the apartment and his voice sounded a little rude because of that.

“Oh,” the man perked and smiled widely. “I’m Hinata Shouyou. I live across the hall.”

“You’re Suga-chan’s friend?”

“Yeah, ever since we moved here.” Hinata’s joyous voice was filling the kitchen. “Is he home?” He looked hopeful.

“No,” Oikawa answered two seconds before the front door opened again and Suga came in. For a second there Oikawa worried that it would be another random person when he heard the door, and an unconscious relived sigh escaped from him.

“Oh, Hinata,” Suga said when he saw the young man.

“Suga!” Hinata exclaimed, clearly happy to see him. Although, Oikawa got the impression that he was always excitable like that.

Oikawa noticed how Suga’s eyes focused on the bag that Hinata was holding under his arm.

“Out of chips?” Suga asked with a fond smile and closed the door.

“Yeah. Kenma called when I was coming walking home and asked me to go buy some, but I was already in the stairwell and we thought that you might have some.” Hinata explained quickly, still wearing his wide smile. “We’ll reimburse you for them, I promise.”

“That’s okay, Hinata, you don’t need to.” Suga kept smiling and ruffled the man’s hair when he walked past him in the kitchen.

“Well, I better go. Kenma’s been waiting forever.” Hinata reminded himself and started to walk towards the front door. “It was nice meeting you Oikawa-san,” he called before he opened it.

“You too.” Oikawa nodded and with that Hinata left and closed the door after him, softer than the others had before him.

“Sorry about him.” Oikawa heard Suga say with genuine apologetic voice. Oikawa turned on his chair to look at Suga. “I should’ve warned you that there might be sudden visitors.”

“It’s okay, Suga-chan.” Oikawa flipped his hand. “I didn’t mind.”

He studied the clothes Suga was wearing, the same clothes that Oikawa had seen on him on Saturday morning. A smirk grew on his lips when he thought what that meant and filed the information for later use.

“Are you sure?” Suga asked though, taking a tentative step closer to Oikawa.

Oikawa schooled his features in to nonchalance, hiding away the smirk that came with his earlier realization.

“It’s fine,” he emphasized the words. “Anyway, I’m not staying much longer.”  

“Positive that you’ll find an apartment today?”

Suga’s smile was the most encouraging thing Oikawa had ever seen.

“I’m hopeful,” he corrected Suga and turned back to his laptop.

“Well, if your standards aren’t met by any of the apartments today, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.” Suga said and with that, he left Oikawa alone in the kitchen.

He watched Suga walk away and without meaning them to, his eyes trained on the gentle, barely there, sway of Suga’s hips.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued:  
> Oikawa gets a taste of how weird his "new neighbors" are


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa meets his "neigbors"

 

Monday had been the most boring day of Oikawa’s life.

And that’s why he wasn’t expecting Tuesday to be any different. Things came in two’s in Oikawa’s life, two boring days in a row, two tests on a same day, or lost socks. They always disappeared one at a time, the other on the next day. He suspected aliens.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“There should be a millennial version of Monopoly where all you do is walk around the board struggling to pay rent,” Kuroo mused.

Suga looked up to him with furrowed brow. Things weren’t that bad with Kuroo financial wise, right?

“Wouldn’t that be really boring though?” Bokuto asked.

They were setting up the Monopoly board on Suga’s coffee table. They didn’t play every week, but often enough that it was almost a routine. The game they played changed, like the group playing, but it was always nice and sometimes Suga found himself looking forward to the next time they would gather in his apartment and play something. It didn’t matter whether they played according to the games rules or if they made their own.

Kuroo decided the game whenever Kenma wasn’t there to say no, and he always chose Monopoly. Probably because he was the undefeated self-proclaimed champion. He always won.

But not tonight, Bokuto had boasted as soon as Kuroo had come in carrying the box in his hands.

“Or it could be a great metaphor of millennials' lives as they just go around and around the board, not making much difference in their lives or the society we live in,” Akaashi said.

“Okay, I’m taking away your wine now.” Kuroo told him with grave severity and took Akaashi’s wine glass from his hand and put it down as far away as he could without standing up. “You always get really deep when you drink and I can’t handle that right now.”

“Have you ever seen Keiji drunk, Kuroo?” Bokuto asked as he helped him set up the game. “Like really-tipsy-drunk, wake-up-in-the-morning-with-a-hangover-drunk?”

“No.” Kuroo answered as he was counting the money for everyone.

“You should.” Bokuto said with a faraway look in his eyes.

Suga noticed Akaashi gesture towards the wine glass Kuroo took away. He reached around Kuroo’s back and gave the glass to Akaashi, who nodded in thanks.

“He gets really deep and philosophical and it’s almost creepy.” Bokuto continued, smiling proudly at his boyfriend. Akaashi looked back to Bokuto with his heavy-lidded eyes silently judging.

“It’s definitely something for everyone to experience at least once.” Suga agreed with Bokuto.

“I’m not a 3D Disney ride.” Akaashi protested calmly and sipped his wine.

“I’m not saying that you are.” Suga hurried to assure him. “I just think that you and Kuroo should definitely get drunk together some time.”

Kuroo looked at Suga with a horrified expression. “ _No_.”

Bokuto was getting excited. “I fully encourage this.”

Kuroo noticed the wine glass back in Akaashi’s hand and he took it away again. “No,” he said first to Akaashi, and then “And no,” to Bokuto.

Suga and Bokuto glanced at each other. Should they get them drunk tonight? Or save it to a weekend? Kuroo probably would watch his drinking, just like Akaashi would, on a week night.

They came to a silent agreement that they would save the experience of drunk Akaashi to another day.  

“I’ll be the car,” Kuroo announced then, picking it up and putting it down in the start.

He was always the car, explaining that it was the most proficient way to speed away from the cops. Even more eerie than Kuroo always winning, was that he never ended up in jail. Seriously, how was that possible? Everyone had come to suspect cheating and foul-play.

Suga however, was always the wheelbarrow. He found it funny to get a chance card saying he had to pay a fine for speeding.

Speeding. On a wheelbarrow.

It always cracked him up.

 

...

 

“How’s it going with your new roommate?” Kuroo asked as he moved his car on the board. Bokuto whooped when Kuroo stopped his counting at a place that he owned.

“He’s not my roommate. He’s only staying until he finds a new apartment.”

“But how’s it going?” Akaashi asked the question Suga didn’t answer. “It’s been a while since you had anything resembling a roommate.”

“It’s going well,” Suga answered worried Akaashi. “He’s quiet and prefers to be alone.”

He rolled the dice. “And don’t think I don’t know that you guys are here only to meet him.”

“What are you talking about?” Kuroo asked with mock-indignant at the same time of Bokuto’s scandalous huff.

“Suga, you know we’re here because of our weekly game night.” Kuroo explained, smirking and cooing at the same time.

“We don’t have weekly game nights.”

“We do.” Kuroo tried to convince and Bokuto nodded along with him.

“No we don’t. We play games irregularly now and then, we don’t have designated nights set for playing a game.” Suga explained patiently.

“Koushi’s right.” Akaashi cut into the banter.

Being called by his given name by Akaashi stopped Suga. He only did it by accident and only when he was drunk and Suga knew he meant nothing by it. It was still a little unsettling and Suga braved a glance at Bokuto.

Bokuto however looked like he didn’t notice the slip, as he was moving his ship on the board.

But Kuroo noticed it and there was a hint of concern in his eyes when they met Suga’s.

“What am I right about?” Suga forced a teasing lilt in his voice.

“That we don’t have designated nights for playing games,” Akaashi said and emptied his glass in one gulp. Suga wondered if Akaashi had caught the slip too.  They had agreed a long time ago, when Akaashi and Bokuto started dating, that Akaashi should call Suga “Suga”, instead of Koushi. Just like he’d gone back to calling Akaashi “Akaashi”.

“I was hoping you’d admit that I was right that you’re here to meet Oikawa-san.”

“Oh, is that his name?” Kuroo asked and Suga knew that he was trying to divert.

He decided to go with it anyway.

“Yes, Oikawa Tooru.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention him before.” Kuroo smirked at Akaashi who had just moved his thimble to a place he owns.

Of course Suga hadn't told them about his pathetic crush. He wasn't about to be teased about that and if he could avoid it, he'd do it, as in, not tell anyone about the gorgeous guy he had a crush on. But Daichi might've mentioned Oikawa, in passing, at some point. He and Kuroo were friends too, after all.

“Not even Daichi?” Suga asked.

“Oh, yeah!” Kuroo exclaimed as recognition of the name set in. “There’s some history between them, right?”

“Apparently.”

Suga had been wondering about that bit of information ever since Iwaizumi had mentioned it. What kind of history? Did Iwaizumi and Oikawa date? Did Daichi date Oikawa? And if they did, why didn’t Suga know about it?

“Suga, it’s your turn.” Bokuto prompted him and Suga shook the thought away as he shook the dice in his hand.

“Pay up, bitch!” Kuroo shouted and cackled as he pointed at Suga when his move ended up to a row of houses.

 

...

 

“Pay up, bitch!”

Oikawa froze with the door half open.

What?

“Oh, calm down. I’m paying.” Oikawa recognized Suga’s voice and braved to open the door fully to enter.

The scene he was faced with wasn’t what he was expecting to see.

Four men sitting on the floor pillows around the coffee table and playing Monopoly.

Oikawa recognized one of them, not counting Suga.

“Oikawa-san,” Suga said with a cheery voice when he saw Oikawa.

Oikawa closed the door behind his back. Suga-chan’s voice had turned the others’ attention on him too.

“Wow.”

“He’s tall.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

The three said and Oikawa smiled his charming smile, with his chin raised up a little.

“Oikawa-san,” Suga-chan sounded a little embarrassed. “These are my neighbors. Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji and his boyfriend Bokuto Koutarou.” He introduced the men who were still studying him. “I believe you’ve already kind of met Bokuto.”

“I have.”

"And by the way Bokuto, I want my charger back," Suga added and Bokuto grinned in response. Oikawa got the feeling that Suga wouldn't be getting that charger back anytime soon. Either due to laziness or forgetfulness, he wasn't sure which.

He nodded at the men. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

The appreciating looks on the men’s eyes was boosting Oikawa’s ego. He knew he was good looking but it was also nice to be admired every now and then. Especially by men as good looking as these three. And why was he getting a definite gay-vibe from all of them?

“Do you want to join us?” The man Suga-chan introduced as Kuroo asked. Oikawa wasn't sure what to think of his hair, but it was definitely an interesting styling choice. “I always win these guys and it’s getting boring.”

“No thank you. I have studying to do.” Oikawa declined politely, taking note of the presence of the alcohol in the living room and headed towards his room.

“Let us know if we’re being too loud,” Suga called after him and Oikawa waved his hand in acknowledgement.

He really did need to study.

But he also kind of wanted to hang out with people, not just to take his mind off his fruitless efforts at apartment hunting. Iwa-chan had been great and patient with him as he turned down every place he had seen so far. They were all either too expensive or too small or too far away from school.

Iwaizumi had made a point that he probably wasn't going to live in the new apartment longer than six months, especially if he finds work immediately after he gets his master’s degree.

Oikawa knew that, he understood it, but he didn’t want to just settle to a place that he wouldn’t consider a home.

Oikawa opened his laptop and the site for apartments to rent was the first thing he saw. He had been scrolling through them between classes. Oikawa pursed his lips in thought. He could go through a few more options and make some appointments to see them.

But he needed to study.

With a resigned sigh he sat down by the table and pulled out his textbooks.

With his door closed he couldn’t hear the chatter of Suga and his friends, but knowing that they were there, distracted Oikawa. Not because he didn’t like his subject matter, but because he really craved for the company. Any company.

 

 

...

 

 

“Did it bother anybody else that the guy in “Operation” was definitely wide awake?” Akaashi asked.

Kuroo groaned and put his head down on his arms that he had folded on the coffee table.

It looked like Akaashi was getting drunk on his own just fine. He was currently sitting between Bokuto’s legs, leaning his back to his chest. Now and then Suga could see Bokuto’s fingers run up and down Akaashi sides.

“Akaashi, do you want more wine?” Suga asked.

“No!” Kuroo’s head shot up as he pointed to Suga with his finger. “He does not need more wine.”

Bokuto laughed and Akaashi joined him.

Suga liked drunk Akaashi, he was more open and flashed his beautiful smile easily. It was a rare sight, so small, but still as radiant as anyone’s. And Suga loved it.

“Kuroo, do _you_ want more wine?” Suga asked him.

“I can’t play if I get too drunk.”

“I know. Why do you think I’m offering you more alcohol?” Suga teased and waved a bottle of wine in front of Kuroo’s face.

Kuroo fixed Suga a pointed glare and reached for the dice. “It’s my turn, right?”

“I have no idea.”

 

...

 

Oikawa had decided to call it quits with studying for the night. Not because he wanted to, but because he got a text from Iwaizumi telling him to put down the book and go and eat or else he’d come and beat him with it. Once Oikawa had opened his books, and focused on the content, it had been easy to forget everything else, even the passing time.

Oikawa rubbed his eyes under his glasses and leaned back on the chair. He didn’t want a repeat of the book beating. Once was one time too many and it hadn’t been pretty. It hadn’t hurt, per say, but it had been a bit of a blow to his ego. Oikawa shuddered with the memory and pushed it out of his mind. Not to mention, he had to buy a new book and it wasn’t exactly cheap.

As he stood up, he realized that he _was_ hungry. But he wasn’t sure if Suga had ideas for dinner tonight. Last night they had eaten together and watched Netflix, but tonight Suga had company.

He could at least ask.

Voices and sounds drew Oikawa to the living room when he exited his room, and for the second time that day, he froze before entering.

There was mayhem in the living room.

Suga was using a large couch cushion as a shield against the houses and hotels Kuroo was throwing at him. Akaashi was hiding behind Bokuto, who had trouble taking breaths as he was laughing loudly, holding his hands on his stomach.

In fact, they were all laughing, even Kuroo who looked a little mad. But loudest of them all was Suga. He kept giggling uncontrollably and the sound was infectious.

Oikawa let out a burst of laugh at the sight and sounds and leaned his hands against the kitchen island.

“Suga-chan,” he tried to get Suga’s attention when he felt like he could talk without laughing.

He could see Suga’s shoulders shake and he tried to control his giggling as he turned to look at Oikawa. Just like everyone else.

Oikawa filed away the image of Suga’s head popping up to view over the pillow. He filed away the adorable look and dimples, his smile.

“I’m sorry,” Suga apologized, still breaking into giggles. “Were we too loud?” He was still assaulted by the houses, thrown one by one.

“No, no.” Oikawa smiled from the effort of trying to keep his laughing in check. “I was just wondering about dinner.”

“Oh, well, I was thinking of making something.” Suga answered and dodged a card flicked towards him by Kuroo.

Bokuto was gasping for air as he kept laughing.

“And I was thinking of asking you guys to stay but I’m rethinking it now.” Suga’s voice got threatening, but he was still wearing his smile.

“I can help you cook.” Akaashi offered with slurred words.

Oikawa worried about this man handling knives and he saw his worry mirrored in Suga.

“It’s okay, Akaashi. I got it.” Suga told him.

“But I don’t want you to have to cook to all of us alone.” Akaashi said and stopped to think about something. “That came out weird, right?” He looked around at others.

“We got what you meant, don’t worry.”

“Okay, good.”

“I can help you cook, Suga-chan.” Oikawa offered.

“Thank you, Oikawa-san.” Suga stood up now that Kuroo had run out of ammunition. He let the pillow fall on the ground with a “flump”.

Kuroo threw a dice at Suga’s ass as he walked away and cackled when it bounced off.

“I love your little bouncy ass, Suga!” Kuroo shouted in glee and started laughing again.

“They’re drunk, right?” Oikawa asked when he and Suga were in the kitchen.

“Oh, yes,” Suga nodded. “Definitely.”

Oikawa wondered if Suga was drunk too, and looked back to the living room. He counted only one wine glass and the beer bottles were nowhere near where Suga had hidden away from the onslaught of game pieces.

“So, I take it that Kuroo-san lost?”

“Yes,” Suga smiled victoriously. “For the first time ever in Monopoly and he didn’t take it well.” He looked pleased as he was taking out vegetables from the fridge.

Oikawa looked back to the living room and at the mess left there. Kuroo’s upper half was out of view under the coffee table. Based on his mutterings and the wiggle of his ass, he was trying to reach something under it. Bokuto was sprawled on the floor, _still_ laughing, while Akaashi was playing with Bokuto’s hair, running his fingers through the strands.

The view was domestic and fun and Oikawa couldn’t decide if he should look away or not.

Suga must’ve followed his eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’ll clean up.” Oikawa heard the smile in Suga’s voice.  

Oikawa turned his whole body away from the disarray in the living room after Kuroo emerged from under the coffee table, his hair sticking up even more irregularly, and threw the piece in his hand at Bokuto’s head. It bounced off with a satisfying “ow” from Bokuto who finally stopped laughing. For about a second.

“What can I do?” Oikawa asked Suga.

 

...

 

“So, Oikawa-san,” Kuroo asked when they all had a plate full of food in front of them. “What do you study?”

“Sports science.”

“Do you have a plan of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not yet.” Oikawa answered honestly. “But I still have time. I’m not graduating for six months,” he shrugged.  

He could play the nonchalance in front of others, but inside he was starting to panic now and then. He’d never reveal that to anyone, he didn’t want the pity. Or anyone to tell placates that they thought would help. Those never helped, _they_ never had.

“Why sport science?” Bokuto asked.

Bokuto was sitting across from him and Oikawa noticed the carelessly slung arm around the back of Akaashi’s chair.

“I like sports.”

It was a vague answer, but he didn’t want to get further into it. He didn’t know these people at all, and didn’t trust them with the knowledge of his most inner desires and curiousness.

“Wouldn’t have guessed from just looking at you,” Kuroo stated, mouth full of food.

Oikawa met the eyes that were studying his face with unhidden admiration.

Oh

“I first thought that you were a model,” Kuroo confessed after he had swallowed.

“He still could be,” Bokuto nodded along.

Oikawa looked at Suga who was sitting in the chair next to his. He was intrigued if Suga shared this sentiment with his friends and neighbors, but his face betrayed nothing. He actually looked more focused on his food than on the conversation.

“Thank you, but I don’t think I’m the only one in this room who could be mistaken for a model.” Oikawa smiled charmingly, looking around the table at everyone.

Kuroo seemed pleased. “Thank you,” he smiled at Oikawa.

“I think he meant the compliment to Keiji,” Bokuto said and Akaashi’s hand slipped under the table on Bokuto’s thigh.

Oikawa chuckled at Kuroo’s indignant expression.

“I’m a good looking guy and you know that anyone would be– Hey!” Kuroo exclaimed, swatting away Suga’s chopsticks.

Suga managed to get a piece of carrot from Kuroo’s plate and he smirked to the man.

“Anyone would be what, Kuroo?” Suga asked with a playful smile before he ate the carrot.

Kuroo’s eyes were trained on Suga eating his carrot as he finished his earlier sentence. “Anyone would be lucky to get to be with me.”

Bokuto snorted.

“Is there some other reason then why you’re single?” Bokuto asked, stifling his laughter.

He was still so drunk. Oikawa was just glad that the man was a happy drunk.

“Shut up.” Kuroo snapped, but the bite was nonexistent with the smirk on his lips. “And technically I’m not single,” he muttered.

Oikawa was confused of what exactly was going on and he glanced at Suga again. His question was forgotten though, when he noticed Suga’s chopsticks reaching over the table towards Bokuto’s plate.

Bokuto and Kuroo were so focused on their banter that they missed Suga’s sneaky chopsticks and mischievous smirk when he put a piece of chicken in his mouth.

Oikawa shook his head at Suga’s antics. The man was a seagull.

“Koushi, can you pass me the soy sauce?” Akaashi asked and the use of Suga’s given name wasn’t lost on Oikawa.

These two were either very close, or had been in the past.

Oikawa wanted to ask.

But thought better of it.

This wasn’t the time or the place or the company to ask.

Suga moved the little bottle closer to Akaashi, like the use of his first name was common.

Neither Bokuto nor Kuroo had heard Akaashi. Or at least they didn’t react to it. So, either they hadn’t heard it, or it really happened often enough that it didn’t warrant a reaction. Was it normal that Akaashi called Suga “Koushi”? Oikawa really wanted to know.

“Dude, are you saying I’m not a good looking man?” Kuroo’s voice cut through Oikawa’s thoughts.

Bokuto gestured towards Akaashi. “Look who I’m dating. There’s no competition.”

“What are they competing about?” Oikawa leaned closer to Suga to whisper. The gist of the men’s discussion was lost on him.

“Who’s better looking,” Suga whispered back.

“They do it almost every time they get a little drunk.” Suga’s voice rose back to its normal level. “I’m not sure what started it in the beginning and I don’t get why they do it.” Suga leaned his chin on his free hand. “I mean, they’re both good looking and the opinion is only in the beholder’s eye.”

“Well, I think Bokuto is better looking, but that’s just my opinion.” Akaashi joined their conversation.

“Aw, thank you babe.” Bokuto beamed at him.

Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“Of course your boyfriend thinks you’re better looking. Let’s open this debate to the floor, shall we?” Kuroo said and crossed his arms on the table. “Oikawa, who do you think is better looking, me or Bokuto?” He gestured between him and Bokuto.

“Really?”

Really? They want him to regard them on such superficial grounds? Really? Why would they want that?

“Does it matter who I think is better looking?” He looked between the two men.

“It doesn’t.” Suga answered his question and Oikawa caught him stealing something from Kuroo’s plate again.

“One of these days you’re going to lose that hand, Suga.” Kuroo warned him.

“Like you’d hurt me.” Suga huffed good-heartedly and immediately reached towards Kuroo’s plate again.

Kuroo parried Suga’s chopsticks with his own, picked up a mushroom with his fingers and flung it at Suga. It hit Suga on his forehead and he looked utterly taken back.

It was such an adorable expression on Suga’s face.

“You’re cute, Suga,” Kuroo said with a soft smile and Oikawa had to agree with him.

Bokuto burst into laughter again and fell sideways off of his chair like a sack of potatoes.

There was a very distinctive and satisfying “flomp” when he hit the floor.

Kuroo started laughing at his friend and Akaashi looked down next to him with a small smile.

Suga saw the opportunity and reached towards Bokuto’s plate again and Oikawa hid his almost snort behind his hand.

Suga turned to look at him with a smirk and took a mushroom from Oikawa’s plate. Oikawa turned away to hide his smile from Suga and he saw Kuroo, who was threatening to fall off the chair too from the force of his laughter.

The kitchen was filled with sounds of laughter and full of life. Oikawa thought they were all a little crazy, but maybe that was just because they were a little drunk. He realized that he liked them. They were fun.

It was a warm atmosphere and it surrounded Oikawa with comfort.

He loved it.

He knew he had been craving for company these past days, but he didn’t know he had needed it this much.

 

...

 

Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi had left shortly after they had eaten dinner. The remains of their game of Monopoly had been cleaned up and the living room straightened back to its normal semblance.

It was quiet again. But the warmth of the apartment full of life still lingered. Oikawa hadn't realized how much he had been craving for company until the need for it had been satisfied.

“Can I ask you something Suga-chan?” Oikawa leaned his shoulder against the bathroom doorjamb, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Sure.” Suga agreed with ease in his voice as he spurt toothpaste on his toothbrush.

“What’s the story between you and Akaashi-kun?”

Suga turned to look at him with widened eyes. Not from fear, but surprise.

“Why do you want to know?” Suga asked, around his toothbrush. He looked cautious now.

Oikawa watched him brush his teeth for a little while before he spoke.

“He calls you Koushi.”

Suga bend over the sink to spit.

“I was just wondering why.” Oikawa explained in a casual tone, hiding how much he needed to hear the story.

Suga’s eyes traveled to the side in thought, before they were trained back to Oikawa.

“Do you have a guess?”

So, this is something Suga wasn’t all too comfortable to talk about. The cautious look made more sense now.  Maybe he shouldn’t press. He should just say that it didn’t matter and wish him good night.

He knew better, but still.

“You’ve known each other for a long time.” Oikawa didn’t guess it; this much was obvious to him.

“We have,” Suga admitted and rinsed his toothbrush and put it away. “All of us have.”

“But you don’t call Akaashi-kun by his given name. No one else called you “Koushi”.”

Suga flipped his hand and leaned his hip to the sink. “Akaashi only does it when he’s drunk.”

Oikawa had a feeling Suga was faking the casual air. It wasn’t there a second ago. There was also a tense current in his voice.

“Did you two date?”

He knew he shouldn’t push on this, shouldn’t keep talking about it. He _knew_.  

“Yes,” Suga said, his voice almost clipped, and he started to walk out of the bathroom.

Oikawa studied Suga's expression and noted how closed off he looked.

“Good night, Oikawa-san,” he said as he passed Oikawa by the doorway, indicating the end of the conversation.

Oikawa moved to the side to let him pass. “Good night, Suga-chan.”

He looked after Suga until his room door was closed.

He shouldn’t have asked at all. Suga’s behavior had been all over the place, clearly not knowing how to be or act when he was uncomfortable.

Suga was mad. But Oikawa wasn’t sure whether to care about it or not.

He might not be here long enough for it to matter, Oikawa thought as he turned off the bathroom light and went to his room.

He hoped it wouldn’t matter.

But there was one thing he was sure of. The day hadn't been boring at all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued:  
> procrastinating + Oikawa learns more about Suga


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga avoids Oikawa and it causes some introspection

 

“If you put things off for so long that you no longer need to do them, is it procrastinating or is it a solution?”

 

* * *

 

 

For the next couple of weeks, Oikawa barely saw Suga.

The man was gone till the late hours of night, or didn’t come back until the next day.

Oikawa had no idea where he went, and he hadn’t asked.

He stepped over the line when he asked Suga about Akaashi, knowing it would be a bad idea, but doing it anyway. Yes, he had come to regret it.

During the silent period between him and Suga, it hadn’t really been quiet in the apartment, though, with the steady flow of neighbors coming and going. And this way he had come to meet other residents of the building. And if not all, then at least most of them.

There was Tanaka, who lived in the apartment right under Suga’s with Nishinoya, his roommate. They were energetic and most notably, genuine. And Tanaka walked around a lot without his shirt. Oikawa had no complaints about that.

And across the hall of those two lived Asahi. Oikawa had learned that he and Suga were high school friends and a coincidence had landed them both to live in the same building. The man was beyond courteous, so far the only one to knock on the front door and waiting for it to be opened. There was definitely something going on between Asahi and Nishinoya and Oikawa had absently wondered if Suga had noticed it too. He hadn’t gotten the chance to ask though.

Hinata and Kenma lived across the hall from Suga, and Kuroo one floor up. Bokuto and Akaashi shared a one bedroom apartment next to Kuroo’s.

There were others too, and Oikawa marveled the easy friendship between everyone. Even if they didn’t see eye to eye on things or had different opinions, there didn’t seem to be big fights or any schism between anyone. It was like Oikawa had landed in the most politically correct building in Tokyo. And it was probably the gayest too.

He also learned that Kuroo and Bokuto had known each other since college, where they were roommates in the dorms, and that Kuroo and Kenma were childhood friends.

And Oikawa realized why Kuroo’s name was so familiar when Suga had introduced him the first time they met. He was Daichi’s ex-boyfriend. Long time ago, yes, but it didn’t diminish the eerie feeling Oikawa got from thinking about it.

Oikawa had no idea that he would be stepping into such an intense six degrees of separation.

Oikawa saw Suga mostly only in the morning and they were polite towards one another. Suga was always smiling amiably, but leaving as soon as it couldn’t be regarded rude. And Oikawa let him.

He accepted that Suga wanted space and solitude and not to be questioned or interrogated.

So, Oikawa let him and instead decided to ask Kuroo.

“No Suga again?” Kuroo asked one evening when he noticed his absence and Oikawa decided to jump at the chance.

“No,” he answered. “He’s gone a lot, but he doesn’t say where.”

“He’s probably with Terushima.”

“Terushima?”

“Suga’s boyfriend.” Kuroo said so casually, Oikawa was sure it wasn’t a secret. So, why would Suga not tell him then? Was it only because of the Akaashi –question or was it because of something else?

“Suga has a boyfriend?”

“You honestly didn’t know?” Kuroo looked surprised, and a little amused, when he turned his head to look at Oikawa.

Oikawa decided that he didn’t like how smug Kuroo could look grinning like that.

He shook his head as an answer. He really didn’t have any idea. Sure, he had noticed that one time Suga came home in the clothes that screamed walk of shame, but he thought it had been a one-time thing.

“Hmm, well, Suga doesn’t talk much about him.” Kuroo shrugged and turned his head back to the TV. “I only know because I saw them together.”

Oikawa could still see the smug grin on Kuroo’s lips.

“Have you met the guy?”

“Of course. They used to be a lot here. But not since you moved here, which is understandable.”  

“Yeah,” Oikawa agreed.

Why would Suga want to bring his boyfriend here if they couldn’t be alone? Oikawa wasn’t even comfortable thinking about bringing someone to the apartment to have sex with if he knew Suga might be here. Not that he had anyone to bring.

 

...

 

“How’s it going with Suga?” Daichi asked one night, when Oikawa and Iwaizumi had been apartment hunting and come back with nothing but frustration and tension headaches.

Iwaizumi had suggested that Oikawa should come over so they could unwind from the disappointing afternoon with beers and shitty reality shows.

Oikawa hated reality shows, but sometimes the nonsense and unnecessary and forced drama was a sufficient distraction. He had quite happily agreed.

He had taken over the large armchair in Iwaizumi and Daichi’s living room, letting the couple cozy up on the couch. Iwaizumi had his feet propped up on the coffee table, and he was sipping his beer while Daichi absentmindedly played with Iwaizumi’s shirt hem.

Oikawa had been beyond relieved when he had noticed that seeing the two of them together and couple-y and domestic didn’t hurt anymore. It didn’t poke the green monster on his shoulder into a mood, it didn’t wrench his insides and it didn’t sting his heart. It hadn’t for a while now.

“It’s going well. We don’t see each other much though.” Oikawa admitted, sipping his beer. He had a vague feeling that Suga was avoiding him.

“Yeah, Suga told me that he’s busy with his gallery.”

That couldn’t be the only reason, but Oikawa caught another interesting fact thrown into the air by Daichi.

“Gallery?”

“Yeah, his photo gallery. He has an exhibition in a couple of weeks or so.” Daichi explained, not noticing the dumbfounded look on Oikawa’s face.

But Iwaizumi caught it.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know Suga was a photo artist,” he sighed and shook his head in exasperation.

“He never told me.” Oikawa defended himself.

“Did you ever ask?”

Oikawa thought back to the conversations he’d had with Suga.

And he had asked. Suga had evaded answering by jumping onto another topic provided by the movie they had been watching. Oikawa was undecided whether Suga had done it on purpose or not.

“I did. He didn’t answer.”

Daichi nodded in understanding.

“He also got really closed off when I asked about his past with Akaashi-kun.” Oikawa decided to admit.

“Wow, you got that quick,” Iwaizumi said and sat up straighter, surprised by this. “It took me about a year to figure that out.”

“Yeah, how _did_ you figure it out?” Daichi asked with eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Akaashi-kun called Suga “Koushi”.”

“Oh, wow, you saw him drunk.” A smirk grew on Daichi’s lips. “He’s wonderful when he’s drunk. Pretty. I‘m pretty sure he only smiles when he’s drunk.”

“Yeah, so what’s the deal between those two? They’re obviously still friends.” Oikawa bypassed the sudden confession from Daichi.

Daichi put down his bottle and turned to fully look at Oikawa with seriousness Oikawa rarely saw on the man’s face.

“They dated about two or three years ago, during Suga’s senior year in college. I’m not sure why they broke up, Suga never divulged that information. I just know that they remained friends and a few months later Akaashi and Bokuto started dating.”

“And Suga seemed fine with it, happy for both of them.” Daichi finished with a shrug and leaned back. “He’s really encouraging of their relationship. It’s sweet.” He leaned back to the couch and against Iwaizumi’s side.

If they were such good friends, why was Suga so clipped about his and Akaashi’s past together? Oikawa was sure there was more to the story.

The room fell quiet then, the only sounds coming from the dating competition show they were watching and not watching (Oikawa really had no idea what it was but it seemed dumb).

“Okay, so, what do you know about Terushima?” Oikawa thought to ask when the thought of Suga had come to his mind again when a contestant with silver hair like his was on focus.

He had to ask. The mystery man Suga was dating was something that occasionally plagued his mind. It hadn’t been much of a shock to learn that Suga had a boyfriend, but what was interesting was that Suga hadn’t spoken a word about him.

There was astonishment in Daichi’s eyes. “Suga told you about him?”

“Not exactly,” Oikawa admitted.

Daichi frowned a little and Oikawa saw him look at Iwaizumi and then back to him.

“Then how did you find out?”

“Kuroo-san told me about him.”

“Oh,” Daichi seemed relieved.

It was Oikawa’s turn to frown. Why would Daichi be so relieved that Suga hadn’t told Oikawa about the guy he was seeing? That didn’t make any sense.

“What’s the big deal?”

“There’s no big deal,” Daichi hurried to say, waving his hands a little in front of him.

“Daichi just got worried that you’ve met Terushima-san.”

“Why? Is there something wrong or unhealthy in the relationship?”

“No! Suga’s beyond happy with him,” Daichi said with a small smile. “I just haven’t met the guy, so...” He left the end of the sentence hang in the air, punctuating the awkwardness of the situation.

This piece of information surprised Oikawa, but he kept his face casual. Why hadn’t Suga’s best friend, who he was very close with, met his boyfriend?

He looked from Daichi to Iwaizumi and back again.

“Aren’t you his best friend?”

“Yes, thank you for the judgement.” Daichi’s sarcasm was biting and Oikawa pursed his lips.

Iwaizumi put his hand on Daichi’s thigh in a soothing way. Oikawa followed the hand with his eyes and lingered there for a second. He watched Iwaizumi’s thumb rub it in small moves. There was no bang in his chest and he lifted his eyes up. Iwaizumi was already looking at him when their eyes met. He could read the disapproval in Iwaizumi’s expression.

“Sorry,” Oikawa said.

“It’s fine. Suga just gets a little protective of his relationships.”

“It just means that he really likes the guy.” Iwaizumi comforted Daichi.

“Yeah,” Daichi nodded and put his hand on top of Iwaizumi’s. “But I have to tell you, Oikawa,” Daichi fixed him with a stern look. “If you meet Terushima-san before I do, I’m going to be really mad.”

“Maybe you should tell that to Suga.”

“I did. He laughed and told me that I could never be angry with him.”

Oikawa huffed out in laughter. “He laughed?”

“I was there, he really did burst out laughing when Daichi threatened to get angry,” Iwaizumi spoke earnestly.

“But Suga-chan seems...” Oikawa stopped to find a good word to describe the man. “Sweet, considerate.”

“He’s the devil incarnated,” Daichi said seriously.

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi to confirm if Daichi really was serious. Iwaizumi nodded.

“You’ll see.” Daichi’s face turned in to an amused smile, no hint of a warning in his voice.

And Oikawa got the indisputable feeling that Daichi and Suga really were best friends, had been for years. The affectionate way they talked about each other, how they smiled when the other was happy, how they teased each other.

They might even be better friends than Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

Actually, no.

No they weren’t.

No one was.

 

...

 

Oikawa was sitting in a train, on his way home from Iwaizumi and Daichi’s. He had gotten a little better insight into Suga’s mind and personality from talking with Daichi, but he wasn’t sure what to do with the new information. If he even should or needed to do anything with it.

What he had definitely gotten though, was that Suga didn’t like talking about his relationships. As was evident from the way the man had reacted when he had asked about his past with Akaashi. He knew that Suga would expect an apology, or at least Oikawa to take the first step and reach out so they could move past this.

He wasn’t ready for it yet though.

He knew that if Suga was home, the tense atmosphere would exist and make everything feel a little awkward. It was still early night, and if Suga _was_ home, it would be important to try to fix the situation.

He hadn’t thought that it would matter if Suga would get mad at him, but as it seemed less and less likely that he would find a new apartment, the more and more important it became to fix things with Suga. He had come to like Suga’s apartment and his neighbors. It would be hard to leave even if he did find an amazing apartment.

Oikawa sighed and exited the train, three stops before he needed to. He could pass some time walking. He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets to try and ward off the wind. It was blowing strong that night, carrying the sounds and music from a club towards Oikawa.

He felt the music calling to him, like a siren.

If it had been a year ago, Oikawa would have gone in, for the wrong reasons, trying to feel better with the wrong people. He knew better by now. He deliberately looked straight ahead, focusing his eyes to tunnel-vision when he passed the club.

That was the reason he didn’t notice the guy stumbling towards him until he walked straight into Oikawa.

“Oh, sorry,” the man slurred and steadied himself with a hand to Oikawa’s chest.

“You alright?” Oikawa asked. He didn’t really care, wanting to keep going. But the man kept leaning heavily against him with his hand.

“Yeah, I’m...” The man lifted his eyes to Oikawa’s and narrowed them. “Do I know you?” He asked, studying Oikawa’s face.

“No.” Oikawa answered. But he wanted to know him. His eyes were so intense blue in the vibrant neon lights that he wanted to drown into them.

He looked around them, but the man seemed to be alone.

“Are you okay?” He asked when the man let go of Oikawa and swayed on his feet.

“I’m fine,” he answered, his expression almost angry, a thunder in his eyes.

Oikawa wanted to learn more of those eyes, how they would change with the man’s moods, with the light surrounding them.

And there seemed to be something interesting about Oikawa too, keeping the man standing there.

“Are you here with anyone?” Oikawa asked with his most charming smile, gesturing to the club with his chin.

“Why?” The man still looked like the whole world offended him by just existing.

“Want to go for a cup of coffee?” Oikawa suggested and he was pleased to notice the man considering it.

“Sure, why not.” The man was clearly reaching for nonchalance but not quite getting there. He looked a little suspicious.

Oikawa smiled his most charming smile again, trying to dispel the suspicions away. The man wasn’t as drunk as Oikawa had first thought. He was walking in a straight line easily, next to Oikawa, and close enough that their shoulders gently brushed against each other every now and then.

Oikawa thought that he had made an excellent decision when he got out of the train before his usual stop.

“What’s your name, blue eyes?” Oikawa asked as they walked, the pounding music from the club fading away into the steady noise of the city.

“Blue eyes?” The man raised one eyebrow when he turned his head to look at Oikawa. He looked back, waiting for his name. “Kageyama Tobio,” the man introduced himself, turning his head back to look straight ahead.

“Oikawa Tooru.”

He noticed Kageyama glance at him and nod.

It had been a while since the last time Oikawa had met anyone new or asked anyone anywhere. He liked where this was going.

Later, when he walked home alone, he had a new number in his phone and vibrant blue eyes looking at him in his memory.

 

...

 

Suga woke up with his face pressed to a pillow. It was still dark in the room and the warm and soft bed tempted Suga to fall back asleep.

He took a deep breath and smiled.

The pillow smelled of Terushima.

Suga opened his eyes a crack and in the dimness he saw Terushima’s mess of hair on the pillow next to his. He was lying on his stomach, hands tucked under the pillow, face turned towards Suga.

Suga’s heart picked up its pace, like it always did when he woke up next to his boyfriend. It made him almost unbearably happy.  

Suga breathed in his smell again and closed his eyes when last night came to his mind.

He had shown Terushima a photo for his next gallery. Something he has never done with anyone before. No one, _no one_ , has ever seen any of the photos he’d taken until they were blown up and hung on a wall. Well, Kenma had, but that was a completely different.

Terushima had smiled and looked at Suga in a way that made his insides somersault and melt at the same time. The feeling still echoed in his body.

“Of course you can use it.” Terushima had said.

He had leaned closer, his hands on Suga’s cheeks, to kiss him with tenderness that made Suga want to live in that moment forever.

The kiss had turned wanting and demanding of more and the dinner they had made was forgotten in favor of hungry kisses and wandering touches. There was nothing better in the world than kissing Terushima. He was sure of it.

Suga had wished that he had his camera handy. He had wanted to capture the moment to relive the feeling for the rest of his life. He had wanted to look at the picture when he was 80 years old and remember how much someone had wanted him, how much someone had loved him.

Yes, loved him. And he loved Terushima back.  

They hadn’t said it. Suga knew he himself wasn’t ready to say it. But he felt it every moment he spent with Terushima, he felt it every second they were apart.

He wanted to tell Daichi how fiercely he loved. He wanted to talk his ear off about this man.

Suga opened his eyes again and rolled over under the covers so he was lying on Terushima’s back. He was soaking in the warmth of his body, feeling his body move with his deep breaths. His hands traveled soft and slow up and down Terushima’s sides.

“Mm,” came a sleepy pleased sound from Terushima and Suga smiled against his neck.

He rocked his hips forward and a mix between a hum and a moan broke out of still sleeping Terushima.

“Good morning to you too.” Terushima mumbled against a pillow.

He wasn’t sleeping anymore. Suga smirked at his pillow-muffled words.

“Good morning,” he said and started to kiss Terushima’s neck with little kisses from his ear to his shoulder.

He grinded against Yuuji and another moan slipped from his mouth.

Suga loved the sounds of his moans and he made it his morning’s mission to hear Terushima moan his name.

He grinded again, with more force and lightly nipped on Terushima’s neck.

“Suga, are you sure you want to do this?”

There was no warning in his voice and Suga was encouraged. He gave another little bite and left more kisses along his neck.

“Not if you’d rather sleep,” Suga whispered.

“Koushi...” Terushima’s voice was gruff from sleep. “Roll over so I can kiss you.”  

“Are you sure you want to kiss me? It’s morning.” Suga teased and reminded him, but moved over next to him anyway.

Terushima turned to lie on his side and wrapped his arm over Suga’s waist, pulling him close and slid his leg between Suga’s. He gave a soft peck on Suga’s lips and smiled sleepily.

Suga wanted thousand more little kisses like that.

“I want to fall asleep next to you for the rest of my life so I can be woken up like this by you every morning.” Terushima spoke quietly with such affection that it made Suga’s heart swell three sizes bigger. He wanted a million more mornings like this.

He never wanted to leave.

“Okay.”

 

...

 

The apartment was quiet when Suga came home that evening. But he knew that Oikawa was home, he saw his shoes when he closed the front door. He had made the same observation before too, when he had come home after spending the day with Terushima.

The atmosphere had been a bit tense between them ever since Oikawa had asked about him and Akaashi. He knew he shouldn’t have been so short with Oikawa then, but he couldn’t help it.

Maybe he should do something about it now though. He didn’t like that he felt like he and Oikawa were walking on eggshells around each other.

He tried to think of a way to move past the stalemate they were in as he passed by Oikawa’s room.

“Suga-chan?”

Oikawa’s voice stopped Suga and a moment later he appeared to the doorway.

He had his glasses on, a sign that told Suga he had been studying, as did the rumpled and wrinkled clothes he was wearing.

Suga had noticed early on that Oikawa took care of how he appeared and looked in front of others and he dressed almost as immaculately as Akaashi. He cared so much about his appearance that he spent half his mornings in the bathroom preening. But that didn’t seem to matter late at night when he was tired and wanted to be comfortable.

“I’m sorry that I asked you about Akaashi-kun.”

The apology surprised Suga. He hadn’t been expecting it at all.

“Why are you apologizing?”

Suga didn’t think it was in Oikawa’s DNA to apologize for the observations he made. At least he hadn’t before. His keen eyes and observational skills were his strength and defense.

“You were clearly uncomfortable talking about it.”

That was true. Suga had been uncomfortable and he didn’t want to talk about it. It was a sore subject. But he hadn’t meant to make Oikawa think that he had done something wrong when he had asked.

Oikawa was just a curious person and his keen eyes and sharp mind had noticed the past between Suga and Akaashi a lot quicker than anyone else had. Of course Akaashi calling him “Koushi” hadn’t been the vaguest hint.

“There’s no need apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

There was still discomfort in Oikawa’s eyes. “But you were mad at me.”

Suga considered this. Had he been mad or just avoiding Oikawa so he wouldn’t ask more about him and Akaashi?

He had definitely avoided Oikawa for other reasons too, but Oikawa didn’t need to know about those.

He sighed. “I wasn’t mad. And it’s okay to ask, it’s okay to be curious.” He flashed an assuring smile to Oikawa, but it didn’t seem to have the effect he was hoping for.  

“Really, I wasn’t mad,” he added when Oikawa still regarded him with worried eyes.

“But you barely talked to me these past two weeks.”

Because I didn’t want to look at you and admire how gorgeous you are.

“I was avoiding the possibility of you asking more about me and Akaashi. I wasn’t mad.” Suga decided to admit. It was better that Oikawa understood that talking about his and Akaashi’s past was a bit of a sore subject for him.

Oikawa studied Suga’s expression and Suga let him.

“You really don’t like to talk about it, huh?”

“I prefer not to.”

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded and the discomfort disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Suga nodded at Oikawa, pleased that his explanation had been accepted, and continued towards his room.

It was considerate of Oikawa to apologize and Suga felt penitent that his behavior had caused Oikawa to worry about something he didn’t need to worry about. He should do something about it. Further assure Oikawa that there were no hard feelings or angry thoughts towards him.

Even if Suga had gotten mad, it would be short lived and forgotten quickly. He didn’t hold grudges and wasn’t about to start that now.

“Are you hungry?” Suga turned to say to Oikawa.

Oikawa appeared back to lean on his doorway.

“A little,” he admitted after some thought. “There are still leftovers in the fridge.”

“Shall we eat then?” Suga asked and smiled at him.

Oikawa nodded and in five minutes they were settled on the couches with their food to watch a movie.  

Suga hadn’t realized it when he had been avoiding Oikawa, leaving the room as quickly as possible, but he was good company. A little haughty and my, did he have an ego. But Suga still enjoyed the dinner that night, both of them talking over Kick-Ass.

Suga truly found Oikawa fun to have around.

That thought might’ve been what started it all.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa said in a contemplative voice, interrupting the flow of the movie and their banter. “If you didn’t have a roommate and you weren’t looking for one, why did you stay here? Why didn’t you move to a smaller place?” Suga glanced at Oikawa and noticed him already looking at him. His voice fit his expression.

“Because this is my home,” Suga smiled softly at Oikawa and then turned his head back to look at the TV.  “It’s hard to think about leaving this place, living anywhere else.”

“By the way, how’s the apartment hunt going?”

“Not well,” Oikawa said with some resentment. He clearly didn’t like the lack of suitable apartments. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long.”

“I don’t mind.” Suga smiled kindly. “I told you that you can stay as long as you need to.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued:  
> we are moving so slowly


	5. Chapter 5

 

“You’re late,” Oikawa said as a greeting when Iwaizumi sat down next to him in the booth. “I’m hungry.”

“Hello, hungry. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime,” he deadpanned.

Oikawa didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa with blank face and the silence between them stretched as they blankly stared at each other while Hanamaki and Matsukawa snickered on the other side of the table.

“What is wrong with you?” Oikawa finally asked.

Iwaizumi shrugged, and then flashed a grin at Oikawa.

“How are you two?” Iwaizumi turned to address the other two smirking men, leaving Oikawa pouting.

“Looking for an apartment,” Matsukawa answered.

“Why? Is there something wrong with your current one?”

“Our rent was raised,” Hanamaki sighed.

“How much?”

“Too much.”

That caught Oikawa’s interest. He was suspicious by the sullen looks on Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s faces. “Was anyone else’s rent raised in your building?”

“No,” Hanamaki said and leaned back in the booth, looking weary and conceded.

Iwaizumi leaned his arms on the table. “Do you think it’s because you’re together?”

“Yes,” Matsukawa nodded. He looked utterly serious.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Oikawa asked.

“We’ll protest this shit if you want to,” Iwaizumi offered with a little lopsided grin.

Matsukawa chuckled. “No, there’s nothing to do.”

“Yes, there is,” Hanamaki disagreed. Everyone turned to look at him. “You can talk about something else. I really don’t want to think about this now.”

Oikawa noticed Matsukawa put his hand on Hanamaki’s and squeeze it. They looked at each other like they were trying to give each other strength and love.

“Have you found an apartment yet Oikawa?” Matsukawa turned to ask him.

Oikawa slumped on the table, hiding his face in his arms. “No.” He was getting really frustrated about the whole ordeal.

“You’re just too fastidious,” Iwaizumi said in a bored voice.

“At least you don’t have to pay an inflated amount of money to live somewhere,” Hanamaki stated.

“That’s true,” Iwaizumi agreed with him. “I honestly don’t understand how Suga has been able to stand you and your arrogant personality,” he added, shaking his head in disbelief.

Oikawa lifted his head up to scoff.

Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and Hanamaki laughed and Oikawa schooled his features to a pout as a waiter came to get their orders.

 

...

 

”Are you going to Suga’s gallery next Friday?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa looked up from his plate at him.

Right, Suga’s exhibit was next week. He hadn’t thought about it.

Suga had written the date on a post-it note and put it up on the fridge and he had heard Suga talk about it to his friends.

But he hadn’t thought about it.

Maybe he should go.

“Are you going?” Oikawa asked, but Matsukawa interrupted before Iwaizumi had the chance to answer his question.

“Who’s Suga?”

Iwaizumi turned his eyes towards Matsukawa with a frown.

“You remember Daichi’s friend Sugawara Koushi?”

“The pretty one with grey hair? With a salty filling?” Hanamaki asked with an impish smile. “ _I_ remember him.”

”Yeah,” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. ”Him.”

“What gallery thing?” Matsukawa asked before Oikawa could ask Iwaizumi again if he’s going.

“He has an exhibit of his photos.”

“Photos?”

“Exhibit?”

“Okay, are you two being stupid on purpose?” Iwaizumi asked gruffly, clearly he lost his patience with them and the smile on Matsukawa’s face implied that they were.

“Are you going?” Oikawa asked again from Iwaizumi.

“Yeah, of course. He’s a friend.”

“Can we come too?” Hanamaki asked with a grin and threw his arm around Matsukawa’s shoulders in a familiar manner.

“Sure, if you want to. It’s an open event,” Iwaizumi answered with a shrug. “And you should go too.” He looked to Oikawa, his voice closer to commanding than suggesting.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Oikawa admitted. He didn’t exactly have anything against going and he considered him and Suga friends by now.

“What kind of photos does Suga take?” Matsukawa asked, once again interrupting.

Not that Oikawa minded the interruption. He was glad that Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s predicament with their living situation had been forgotten for now. And this way Iwaizumi couldn’t pester him about going like his frowning expression suggested he was about to do.

“It varies. You have to go to know.”

“What? No spoilers?” Hanamaki asked with mock scandal in his voice.

“Any dick pics?” Matsukawa asked.

It was Oikawa’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi snapped and turned his head to look at Oikawa.

“I know Suga and he’s not going to expect you to go, but I think you should. Otherwise you’d just spend your night at home alone studying.”

Oikawa was offended by Iwaizumi’s presumption. “No I wouldn’t.”

“Really? What did you do last Friday?”

“Studied,” Oikawa answered warily.

“And the Friday before that?”

Oikawa didn’t answer.

“Or the Friday before that? Or every other day as well, including weekends?”

“Okay, I get your point.”

“You need to get out, think about something else. Air your head a little,” Iwaizumi told him and turned back to smirking Hanamaki and Matsukawa.“And if you’re coming, we do not know each other,” he told them.

Hanamaki’s face fell with an exaggerating pout. Matsukawa scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just asked if there are going to be dick pics in an art gallery,” Oikawa said. “Why do you think Iwa-chan might feel embarrassed being seen out with you two?”

“He’s out with us right now,” Hanamaki pointed out.

“No, you two sat down without asking us, rudely intruding on our dinner,” Iwaizumi joked, although his tone was serious.

“Very rudely,” Oikawa nodded along.

Matsukawa leaned back in the booth in defeat. “Come on.”

“This skit is getting old, guys,” Hanamaki added. “It used to be a funny joke, but you overused it and it’s just boring now.”

“Who’s joking?” Oikawa asked seriously and smirked back.

Yes, Oikawa and Iwaizumi had done this before, numerous times. And they’d probably keep doing it. It was fun. At least in Oikawa’s opinion, especially since the two gave up so quickly now.

“Besides, you started it this time,” he pointed out.

“How? How did we start it?”

“Dick pics.” Iwaizumi reminded them with an exasperated move with his hands.

Matching smirks grew on Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s faces again.

“Yes, dick pics.” Matsukawa bobbed his head up and down. “So, are there going to be any?”

“How depraved are you?”

“Just thirsty,” Hanamaki answered and sucked his soda through the straw suggestively.

Honestly, why was Oikawa still friends with them?

“I perfectly understand why Daichi didn’t want to come,” Oikawa told Iwaizumi with a sympathetic look and Iwaizumi shook his head.

“Yeah, me too,” he admitted and threw his straw at Hanamaki.

He tried to dodge the straw and ended up spilling his drink on himself.

Matsukawa started to laugh at his misfortune, along with Iwaizumi.

Oikawa shook his head in disbelief that Hanamaki once again spilled all over himself and unhelpfully threw napkins at the man while the others kept laughing.

They might be trash, but they had stuck together for years, and if it wasn’t for Hanamaki and Matsukawa, Oikawa wouldn’t be friends with Iwaizumi anymore.

Plus, in his core, he liked them. Yes, they _were_ trash, but they were his friends and he wouldn’t trade them for anything or anyone.

 

...

 

“Stop adding hot sauce,” Oikawa heard Terushima say as he stepped into the apartment.

Suga and Terushima were in the kitchen, cooking, and Oikawa looked at the picture the two made standing by the stove as he closed the door. Terushima was putting away a little bottle of something red that made Oikawa crunch his nose at the suspicious hotness.

“Hey,” he announced his presence.

“Hey,” Suga greeted when he turned towards the front door.

Terushima looked over his shoulder and nodded his greeting.

“Do you want to join us for dinner?” Suga asked.

Oikawa noticed Suga run his hand along Terushima’s back as he walked past him to the fridge. “We’re making plenty.”

“It’s going to be really spicy though,” Terushima warned and Oikawa smiled in amusement. Of course Suga would make it spicy.

“That’s okay. I already ate with Iwa-chan.”

“The invitation stands if you change your mind,” Suga said with a smile and went back to the stove.

“No,” Terushima said to Suga and grabbed the hand that was holding a little bottle of something red that was threatening to tip over the pot he was stirring.

“Please, just a little?” Suga asked with puppy dog eyes.

The two made an adorable couple.

“I won’t be able to eat it if you put in any more hot sauce.”

“It’s different hot sauce,” Suga reasoned and his smile turned impish.

He decided to leave the two alone. “I’ll be in my room.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to think that you have to hide away,” Suga said, the hot sauce debate forgotten and his smile turned back to kind. The thoughtfulness made Oikawa smile.

He should go to the gallery to show his support.

“I’m not hiding,” he assured Suga. “I just have studying to do.”

“Okay,” Suga accepted and turned back to tease Terushima with the hot sauce.

Oikawa caught the soft way Terushima looked at Suga with as he gestured in exasperation at the man.

Suga’s smile at him was so beautiful, Oikawa felt like he was intruding and hurried his steps to leave the two alone.

“Suga, either you put the hot sauce away or you’re drinking it. The whole bottle.” Terushima’s threat lacked all bite and Oikawa closed his room door on Suga’s laughter.

He really didn’t want to intrude on the two.

After the two weeks when Suga barely had spoken to Oikawa, it had taken about two weeks more for Suga to bring Terushima in the apartment and introduce him to Oikawa. Much to Daichi’s dismay. And to Kuroo’s excitement.

The latter man had walked into Suga’s apartment without a knock on the door or any of the other common courtesies. Oikawa had gotten used to it by now, but it sometimes bothered how freely Kuroo came and went like he lived there.

“Good morning to you too,” Oikawa said to him as he watched from the dining table how Kuroo took food from the fridge.

“Where’s Suga?”

“And here I thought you came to see me.” 

Kuroo’s mature response to Oikawa’s fake pout was a deadpan glare that Oikawa was sure he had learned from Kenma. It made him look like he was done seventy years ago.

“Is Suga home or not?”

“He’s still in bed. They came in pretty late last night.” Oikawa turned back to his breakfast and he didn’t notice Kuroo’s attentive expression, a total 180 from his earlier look, as he sat down by the table across from Oikawa.  

“They?”

“Suga-chan and Terushima.”

There was a sparkle of mischief in Kuroo’s eyes and it puzzled Oikawa.

“Terushima’s here?!”

Oikawa was taken aback by the sudden exclamation.

“Yeah,” Oikawa nodded.

“Were they loud?”

Excuse me?

Oikawa frowned at Kuroo. “Are you asking me if they had sex last night?”

“That’s exactly what I’m asking.” Kuroo opened the yogurt he had taken from the fridge and ate a spoonful as he waited for Oikawa to answer.

Kuroo was really excited and Oikawa would’ve been lying if he said it wasn’t infectious. Sure, he had heard them. Maybe Suga didn’t care if they were heard. Or he just forgot to be quiet because he was taken over by desire and passion. Oikawa knew how that felt like. So, wouldn’t it be okay to tell Kuroo? Oikawa bit his lip to suppress his smile. The man had asked and it would be rude not to answer.

“I think Suga-chan forgot that I’m staying here,” Oikawa mused out loud.

“So they were loud?” Kuroo asked again, with the glint still in his eyes.

“Yeah, kind of,” Oikawa thought back to last night and waking up in middle of night to the quiet moans. Once he had deduced where the sounds that woke him were originating, he had turned to his other side and fallen back asleep almost immediately.

 _Almost_ immediately.

“And hot as hell.”

“I wish I were here to hear them.” Kuroo looked up to the ceiling wistfully.

“What’s with the obsession with Suga-chan’s sex life? Do you have a thing for him or something?”

Kuroo was quick to shake his hands in front of him in an averting manner. “No, no, nothing like that,” he shook his head. “He just gets so easily embarrassed about it that I like to tease him,” he smirked and leaned his crossed arms on the table.

Oikawa huffed a laugh and averted his eyes down to his breakfast, pretending not to be intrigued.

He failed.

“How embarrassed?” He looked up and before Kuroo could answer, they heard Suga’s bedroom door open.

“Just watch,” Kuroo whispered conspiratorially. “Morning Suga!” He greeted the grey haired man.

Suga stopped when he saw Kuroo and Oikawa.

“Did you get it good last night?” Kuroo asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Oikawa watched with fascination how Suga’s cheeks started to blush.   

“Kuroo, stop,” Suga warned him. His tone was in no way diminished by his blush and the look in his eyes only ten folded the seriousness of his words.

“What?” Kuroo asked innocently. “I’m excited that Terushima’s here. I haven’t seen him for weeks,” he continued, smirking so wide that Oikawa was sure his face could split apart.

“Yeah, for a reason.”

“You have to stop being so embarrassed,” Kuroo said with a reprimanding shake of his head.

Suga went to boil water for tea with a defeated sigh and a blush on his cheeks.

Oikawa thought he was adorable blushing like that and so easily.

Terushima came to the kitchen a little after that.

“Were you talking about me and Suga having sex again?” He asked as he read the room when he walked to stand next to Suga.

Suga promptly hid his face in Terushima’s shoulder while Kuroo cackled.

“You need to come by more often Teru-kun.” Kuroo said with mirth.

Terushima didn’t say anything to that, but he looked pleased with the idea when he put his arm around Suga’s shoulders and brushed his lips against Suga’s hair as he relaxed against Terushima’s side.

They were a cute couple, Oikawa thought.

 

...

 

He had thought they were cute then and the opinion still held.

It had been roughly three hours since Oikawa came home and saw Suga and Terushima in the kitchen cooking. He wondered what the couple was doing now and if he could venture out of his room. He couldn’t hear them.

Iwaizumi’s threatening text message made the decision for him. Oikawa closed the book he had been studying from and stretched himself to his full length, hands reaching towards the ceiling.

He took a steadying breath, preparing for anything that he might hear or see, and opened the door and walked to the living room.

Suga and Terushima were lazing on the couch and Oikawa wasn’t sure where one man ended and the other begun with the TV illuminating the room in dim blueish light.

Oikawa took in what was playing before he walked around the couch to check if the men were asleep.

“Iwaizumi sent me a text asking to check on you if you didn’t come out of your room in five minutes,” Suga said.

Oikawa glanced down at him. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Suga smiled sleepily.

Terushima’s eyes were wide open and he was focused on the movie, unlike Suga who was lightly playing with Terushima’s fingers, lying between his legs.

“It’s sweet how he cares about you.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Oikawa had to admit.

It was sweet, how Iwaizumi still cared about him after their break up, like he always had. But sometimes Oikawa was concerned about it. He shouldn’t make Iwaizumi worry about him but he didn’t seem to be able to stop worrying him. He kept overworking and exhausting himself and it was only about to get more intense before he graduated.

“You can sit down,” Suga suggested, cutting in to Oikawa’s thoughts.

Oikawa looked down to him in mild surprise. He hadn’t meant to stay in the living room at all and intrude in any way. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Oikawa glanced at Terushima again to gauge his opinion, but the man was still focused on the movie and Oikawa decided to follow Suga’s suggestion.

Oikawa had seen the movie numerous times and he mouthed the lines along with the movie in some parts.

It seemed that Terushima and Suga had seen it before too.

“How’s the apartment hunt going?” Terushima asked when there was a lull in the movie.

Oikawa studied his face in the dim illumination of the TV and couldn’t find the signs that suggested an ulterior motive for asking.

“Not well,” Oikawa admitted.

“You’re too picky,” Suga offered his opinion and Oikawa smiled ruefully. He had heard that before from others too.

He didn’t think he was picky himself, but very conscious of what he liked and didn’t like, and he was not one to settle for something that wasn’t everything he wanted or needed.

“There are no suitable apartments in Tokyo,” Oikawa argued. “Seriously, it’s like they’ve all just disappeared or changed drastically.”

“You’re just too picky,” Suga said again.

“Whatever,” Oikawa huffed and Suga chuckled quietly. “It’s too late for arguing.”

But Suga obviously wanted the last word. “You know I’m right,” he stated and now it was Terushima who chuckled and bend his head down to kiss the top of Suga’s head.

The two made such an adorable couple, Oikawa actually felt a little jealous.

It had been a while since he’d had that, for a reason, and he’d tried to fill the time he used to have for a relationship with studying.

He should reach out. He still had the number saved in his phone. He should call Kageyama.

 

...

 

Oikawa woke up on the couch the next morning.

He didn’t remember falling asleep there, but someone had laid a blanket over him.

He sat up slowly, worried of cricks and cracks in his neck and back from sleeping on the couch.

He was immensely pleased that there were none as he tipped his head from side to side to get a feel of his range of motion.

“We didn’t want to wake you up.”

Oikawa turned his head towards Suga’s voice and he saw him sitting by the kitchen island, eating.

“I didn’t know if you’re the kind of person who can’t fall back asleep when they’re woken up in middle of the night.”

“For future reference, I’m not.”

“Good to know,” Suga nodded.

“What time is it?” Oikawa asked, feeling his pockets for his cell phone. He must’ve left it in his bedroom last night.

He hadn’t meant to stay in the living room, but once again, Alien had caught him along for the ride and he must’ve fallen asleep during the movie.

“7:15.” Suga answered. “Do you want coffee?”

Oikawa run his hand through his hair and winced at the knots in one spot. There must be a nest on his head. He was thankful that Suga didn't mention it.

“I can get it myself,” he answered to Suga and stood up, stretching himself to full height and yawning.

He deliberated whether to drink coffee or take a shower first.

His stomach made the decision for him and he walked to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Where’s Teru-chan?”

“Teru-chan?” Suga sounded amused by the endearment that slipped from him. “He’s at work.”

“How grown up of you, having a sleepover and then to work in the morning.”

“Yes, well, we try,” Suga mused and he looked a little amused.

“I’m serious,” Oikawa poured milk into his coffee. “It’s very adult-like.”

“Bite your tongue,” Suga said with a bite in his voice.

Oikawa looked at Suga with surprise. He hadn’t heard him speak in that tone before. It wasn’t an angry tone, but more disapproving.

Was Suga disapproving that Oikawa regarded him as an adult like he was at the age of 25?

Suga must’ve read his incomprehension on his expression. “Don’t call me an adult.”

“Why?”

“I’d rather be old than an adult,” Suga explained with a voice that suggested he was utterly serious.

He was adorable. Oikawa wanted to pick him up and squeeze him like a little Care Bear.

“Really? You’d rather be called “old” than “adult”?” Oikawa teased, sipping his coffee, but Suga’s determination stayed.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Alright,” Oikawa shrugged, hiding his grin behind the cup.

“I need to get going,” Suga got up. “Do you want to eat dinner together tonight?”

“Sure, why not?” Oikawa agreed, his eyes following Suga’s movements in the kitchen. He was secretly glad that Suga had asked. It meant socializing with someone and a break from studying, so Iwaizumi didn’t need to worry about him.

“Great. See you later.”

And with that Suga left the kitchen, the remains of two people eating breakfast in the sink. Oikawa smiled at the scene the dishes gave him of Suga and Terushima eating their breakfast together, and once again he felt a slight bang of jealousy.

He needed to make a call, soon.

 

...

 

“Suga, what’s the date of your gallery?” Asahi asked.

He was sitting by the kitchen island with his calendar open in front of him, leafing through the pages.

Suga smiled at him. “The 21st. You’re cutting it kind of close.”

“It’s next Friday!” Asahi realized. “Suga, it’s so soon.”

“I know, that’s why I said you’re cutting it close.”

“Why didn’t I realize it’s coming up so soon?” Asahi asked, more from himself than Suga.

He answered the question anyway.

“Because we haven’t seen each other much lately and I haven’t had the opportunity to mention the date to you.”

“But I should have figured out,” Asahi berated himself. “I mean, Daichi was just talking about it.”

Suga put down the plate he was drying and let out a sigh. Asahi-freak out wasn’t anything new to him.

“Asahi, calm down,” Suga put his hands on top of Asahi’s. “It’s okay,” he searched Asahi’s eyes.

“But –“

“No, Asahi. Really, it’s okay,” he pressed his words with an assuring tone.

Asahi studied Suga’s eyes and reluctantly nodded his head, in a really slow motion, like he was waiting for Suga to say something else too.

Suga patted Asahi’s hands twice, and clapped him on the shoulder with more force. Asahi winced and content that he had been able to stop Asahi-freak out once again, Suga moved back to the dishes.

“When did you see Daichi?”

“Couple of days ago, just in passing by the library,” Asahi said and put his calendar back in his bag that was sitting on the stool next to him. “He looked good.”

“It’s been a while since the last time I saw him,” Suga admitted to the dishes he was drying.

“He’s coming to the gallery too, right?”

“With rings on his fingers and bells on his toes,” Suga chuckled. “That’s how he described it anyway.”

“Sounds like Daichi,” Asahi was smiling at the thought. “Is Terushima-san going too?”

“He said he’d be there.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

Suga sighed. He was a horrible friend and a boyfriend. He hadn’t introduced his boyfriend to his best friends or his best friends to his boyfriend.

Even if he had his reasons, he was an awful person.

Luckily he could fix that in just 8 days.

Asahi must’ve been reading his thoughts, or he had seen them on Suga’s face.

“I don’t mind, you know,” Asahi said sympathetically. “That I haven’t met him yet.”

Suga smiled wryly. “Thanks, Asahi.”

“Neither does Daichi.”

“But practically everyone else has met him already and I can’t help but feel bad about it.”

Whatever Asahi was going to say to that got lost under Tanaka’s shout “I need food!” when he walked in.

“Hey, Tanaka,” Suga smiled at him and put away the dried dishes. “There are leftovers in the fridge.”

“What’s up, Asahi?” Tanaka asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“No Noya?” Asahi looked behind Tanaka at the closed front door.

Suga lifted his eyes to the ceiling and closed them at Asahi’s obviousness. He wondered if Asahi realized that he was not being subtle at all.

“He’s working,” Tanaka answered Asahi’s question and started to examine the contents of the fridge.

“Oh.”

Suga and Tanaka traded a look behind Asahi’s turned head and broke away with a shake of their heads. Suga smiled at the disappointed voice Asahi said it in and handed Tanaka a plate to microwave the food.

“So, Suga, how’s the gallery coming along?” Tanaka asked when his plate spun in the microwave.

“It’s ready.”

“What? Already?” Asahi was surprised. “Last time you were freaking out about it when you opened the gallery doors.”

“Yeah, you were still flipping through photos _two minutes before_ the exhibit,” Tanaka added.

“I know, I remember.” Suga leaned against the kitchen island. “I like this gallery more than the last one, though. That’s why I’m more confident about it.”

“That’s good,” Asahi patted Suga’s shoulder over the island.

“What’s the theme this time?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Suga smiled mysteriously at the men and handed Tanaka chopsticks.

“Oh, how will I ever be able to sleep until I see your gallery?” Tanaka joked.

Suga chuckled at that and rubbed Tanaka’s head affectionately.

For the first time ever, he wasn’t nervous about his gallery. He wasn’t sure who or what to thank for it, but he was grateful and hoped that he could show it one way or another.

 

...

 

“You know, when I didn’t hear about you after the last time, I thought that was it.”

“Yeah, well...” Oikawa wasn’t sure what to say. Should he defend that he hadn’t called or texted, or not? He didn’t feel like apologizing for it, or defending it. So he said nothing.

“You like that I called though,” he said after a short silence.

They were both trying to catch their breath, calm their erratic heartbeats. Oikawa saw from his side-eye Kageyama crunch his nose a little. Oikawa let out a delighted huff of laughter.

“You liked it,” he stated and sat up, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Kageyama looked sullen, but Oikawa had come to the conclusion that he almost always looked dour.

 _So serious,_ he thought.

“Are you leaving already?”

Oikawa’s grin threatened to widen and he bit his lip. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No,” Kageyama said to the ceiling.

Oikawa glanced at him as he stood up. The dismissal came too quickly to be the truth, but he didn’t spare another thought to it. He didn’t exactly want to stay.

He left Kageyama lying on the bed when he went to the bathroom to clean up. He was glad that he called too.

He had learned a thing or two about Kageyama during the afternoon. For example, Kageyama was younger than him. Which was perfect, he probably wasn’t looking for a serious relationship either. They also went to the same university, but studied different subjects. That must’ve been the biggest reason why they hadn’t run into each other earlier. He would’ve remembered seeing those blue eyes before. He was sure they would’ve made an impression.  

When Oikawa went back to the room to dress, he threw a wet cloth to Kageyama.

“Thanks,” he said and cleaned himself up. “You don’t _have to_ go,” Kageyama spoke quietly, his face turned down and away from Oikawa.

Oikawa studied him for a moment. “I can’t stay today,” he gave a simple excuse that wasn’t really an excuse, even though it was one. He could stay, but he had an essay to write and if he stayed, that would push back his essay. He was probably selfish leaving so soon, but he had gotten what he needed and Kageyama had gotten what he wanted. There was no real reason to stay.

Kageyama’s shoulders deflated almost imperceptibly, but Oikawa caught it.

“Can I call you again?” He asked instead and started to put his jacket on.

“Sure.”

“Great,” Oikawa threw a winning grin to him. “Bye Tobio-chan,” he wiggled his fingers in a wave and left.

This had been the second time they met, since their impromptu coffee that one night. Oikawa was sure it wouldn’t be their last time. It was too good and satisfying to stop here.

There was a steady satisfied smug smile on his lips when he got back to Suga’s apartment. He was in a good mood. Nothing could bring him down.

Not even Kuroo and Bokuto sitting in the living room. They rather elevated his spirits even more.

“Guess what I realized today?” Bokuto asked excitedly from Kuroo when Oikawa walked to the living room and dropped his heavy bag carefully on the floor. He sat down on the same couch with Kuroo.

“What’s up, Oikawa?” Kuroo asked.

He grinned at Kuroo and turned to Bokuto. “What did you realize today Bokuto?”

The honorifics had been thrown into the proverbial wind soon after they had met.

“I realized that if I touch my phone in all the right places, a pizza will arrive at my door,” Bokuto beamed with the happiness that this realization has brought him and it was infectious.

Yes, Oikawa was feeling particularly good.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued:  
> Set up to Suga's gallery
> 
> “So, you thought I pass my time by watching an empty microwave?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, practically nothing happens in this chapter but a bit of bonding.

 

“Hello, Oikawa,” Kuroo said with a feline grin when he walked in through the front door, disturbing the lone silence Oikawa was enjoying as he watched a volleyball game.

“Hello, Kuroo.”

Oikawa followed with his eyes as Kuroo sat on the same couch with him. “Are you here for food again?”

“Nope,” Kuroo said and slouched down. “Yes,” he tilted his head to look at Oikawa. “Is there food?”

“Why don’t you get up and go check?” Oikawa suggested and focused his eyes forward on the game playing on the TV, his expression unchanged.

“I’m alright here, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Wow, you’re in a really bad mood,” Kuroo observed.

“Just frustrated. I still haven’t found an apartment.”

“You do know that there’s an empty apartment in this building right?” Kuroo pointed up to the ceiling, meaning the apartment on the top floor.

“I can’t afford it,” Oikawa shook his head once. Not only was he suffering from his frustration stemming from his fruitless apartment hunt, but also from the poor skills of one team’s setter.

“Hmm...” Kuroo mused. “Guess you’ll just have to tolerate us a little longer then.”

“Seems that way,” Oikawa agreed.

“Do these guys know how to block at all?” Kuroo pointed out a very poor block in the game.

“Their setter’s really bad too.”

“Yeah, with plays like that there’s no wonder they’re losing 3-0.”

Kuroo’s remark caught Oikawa’s interest. “Did you play?” He must’ve have played to be able to notice how bad the teams were.

“Yep,” Kuroo drawled. “Still do in the neighborhood league.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Kuroo looked at him. “I take it you played too.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa’s expression turned sullen. He had good memories about volleyball, but the latest one wasn’t a happy one and always the first to come to his mind. He still liked to watch any game he could and analyze the plays and players, though.

Kuroo must’ve noticed the minute change in him. He just looked at Oikawa, and didn’t pursue further with the subject, turning his head back to the TV.

They continued to watch the game, commenting on it now and then, mostly noting their lacking skills in setting and blocking. But any personal stories or memories weren’t divulged.

They were sort of bonding, but Oikawa was still almost relieved when Suga came home. It wasn’t that Oikawa didn’t like Kuroo. Honestly, the man was fun company. He still hoped that there would be another person in the room. He bit back a sigh of relief when he heard the front door open and close.

“And where have you been, young man?” Kuroo assumed an authoritative tone when Suga walked into the living room.

Suga looked at Kuroo like he was trying to figure out how serious he was with the question. The tone had been serious, but the veiled grin on Kuroo’s face clashed with it.

Instead of answering, Suga sat down on the other couch, focusing on the game too. “How is it possible to lose a game 25-12 on this level?”

“We don’t get it either,” Kuroo said. “But seriously, where were you? I’ve missed you,” Kuroo cooed the last sentence.

“At the printers.”

Oikawa huffed in amusement. “Only at the printers?” His smile matched his teasing voice.

Suga narrowed his eyes at him.

Kuroo took initiative of Oikawa’s subtle allusion and decided to take advantage of the chance to tease Suga again. He sat up straighter.

“Suga, did you know that your boyfriend has a tongue ring?”  

“Yes, Kuroo. I did know that,” Suga answered patiently.

“How did you find out? When you kissed him or when he blew you?”

Kuroo smirked at Suga’s glare.

“Some people just need a high five. In the face. With a chair,” Suga deadpanned.

 The situation turned 180 degrees in a matter of two seconds, with the impish smile that spread on Suga’s lips .

“No,” Kuroo’s grin dropped. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Kuroo took the couch cushion behind his back and put it in front of himself. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing,” Suga sounded like an angel but smiled like the devil.

“No. I don’t trust your smile. You’re planning something.” Kuroo propped the big cushion in front of him so he could hide behind it. “Is he still smiling at me?” He stage-whispered to Oikawa.

Oikawa looked at Suga and then back to Kuroo. “Yep.”

Kuroo took a peek at Suga.

“Why are you hiding?” Oikawa asked.

“I’m not hiding. I’m using this cushion to soften the blow.”

“The blow?”

“Suga’s going to fetch a chair and throw it at me.”

Kuroo kept stage-whispering with Oikawa, but there was no fear in his voice. Instead it was filled with suspicion, fitting his narrowed eyes as he kept looking at Suga from behind the cushion. Suga kept smiling and minding his own business on the adjacent couch.

“Are you sure?” Oikawa asked, doubting that Suga would do such a thing.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kuroo stated.

Oikawa turned to look at Suga, who grinned widely when he noticed Oikawa looking at him.

“Did you really?”

“He can’t prove a thing,” Suga said confidently, and stood up as the last set of the volleyball game was beginning.

Oikawa’s eyes widened with surprise. He wasn’t sure whether to respect or fear this man that appeared so sweet and caring most of the time.

 

...

 

It was past 4 am when Oikawa shambled home.

Yes, he decided to call Suga’s apartment home, out loud in front of others. He wasn’t sure what to think of the fact that no one had pointed it out to him. Had they just accepted that he called it home the very second he had said it? Had they suspected that he would come to call it home?

Or maybe they had found it weirder that he didn’t call it home, but Suga’s apartment, and had waited for him to say it.

Anyway, at 4 am, Oikawa was sure that the apartment would be dark and quiet and he’d have to move on his tiptoes not to wake Suga up.

But he was wrong.

Terushima was standing in the kitchen, only illuminated by the little kitchen light. The rest of the apartment fell into shadows, made by the streetlamps outside the apartment. He was obviously trying to be quiet and it told Oikawa that Suga was sleeping.

Oikawa regarded what he was doing for a minute before he walked closer to the kitchen area.

The one time when Terushima had spent a night in the apartment, Oikawa had been sound asleep and would’ve missed it if Terushima had been up and baking, like he was now. Was Terushima a stress baker, or did he suffer from insomnia?

Oikawa must’ve opened and closed the door more silently than he thought, because Terushima jumped a little when he heard Oikawa greet him.

“Why are you baking at four in the morning?” Oikawa asked in a low voice.

Terushima looked over at Oikawa and reached towards a lightswitch to flip on another light. The sudden increase of light had Oikawa blinking against it.

Terushima turned back to the bowl he was stirring with a wooden spatula, his back to Oikawa.

“Suga’s exhibit is tonight and I wanted to do something nice to him.”

“Like what? Jalapeno cakes?” Oikawa joked.

Terushima turned again and looked a little surprised. “You’re good.”  

Oikawa wondered about this proclamation for about a second before he noticed the cut jalapenos on the counter. Of course he would make something spicy for Suga.

He decided to leave Terushima to his baking and was about to drag himself to bed when Terushima’s question stopped him.

“Did you have a fun night?”

Oikawa turned to look at him, hiding his surprise that the man wanted to continue their interaction at this time of night. He was looking up and down the clothes Oikawa was wearing with a suggestive smile.

Oikawa knew that he looked like he just performed the walk of shame. But Terushima didn’t need to know, in Oikawa’s opinion, that he was right.

Oikawa deliberated if he should lie, admit to it or just stay silent and go to sleep.

He must’ve been more tired than he realized. His lips started to move and his tongue started to bend to form the words without his permission.

What an oxymoron, his brain making a decision to do something before he made the decision.

Yeah, it came out absurdly and probably wouldn’t make any sense to anyone else but him in his tired brain.

“I was working on a school project and we fell asleep.”

Terushima nodded with understanding. But there was a look in his eyes that he didn’t fully believe Oikawa but accepted his answer anyway.

After all, wasn’t everyone entitled to their secrets and wasn’t everyone entitled to decide when to divulge them, who to share those secrets with.

And his answer wasn’t exactly a lie. They had worked on school stuff, but it wasn’t the entire truth either. He might’ve consciously made the decision yesterday to leave the apartment with condoms in his pocket.

“Why are you baking at four am?” Oikawa asked again. “I get that you’re baking something for Suga, but why so early? Can’t sleep?”

Oikawa wasn’t sure why he cared. He leaned his arms on the kitchen island and Terushima moved on the other side of it and started molding the cakes.

“I’m used to waking up early because of work. Getting up at four am isn’t anything new to me.”

“Teru-chan, what is it that you do for a living?”

Terushima grinned at the endearment that slipped from him. “I own a coffee shop.”

“You _own_ a coffee shop?”

Oikawa was so taken aback by Terushima’s answer that he didn’t manage to hide the surprise before the words left his mouth.

Terushima looked amused by Oikawa’s surprise. “It’s really not that big of a thing.”

“No, no. I just... I...” Okay, it was time to make words, to string them together cohesively. He didn’t want to appear so flabbergasted in front of Suga’s boyfriend. “I haven’t thought at all where you work and that’s why I was taken aback.”

Terushima still looked amused. “Okay.”

“Is that how you and Suga-chan met?” Oikawa asked, because 4:30 am was the perfect time to have this conversation in a kitchen lit by a poor yellow light. It was the perfect time because he was tired and his brain had severed all ties it had on Oikawa’s actions.

There was no filter anymore, people! The filter had left the building!

Yes, he was that tired.  

“Um, yeah, sort of, I guess.”

“What do you mean sort of, I guess?”

“Um,” Terushima thought and Oikawa wondered what was going through the man’s head. Was he worrying if he could divulge this information? Or was it something embarrassing?

“You know Hinata-kun? Lives across the hall?”

“Yeah.”

“He works part time at the coffee shop and one day he hurt himself and I helped him home. First time I met Suga was in this building’s stairwell, just passing. I thought it was sweet how worried and caring and no-nonsense he was of Hinata when he saw me help him hopple up the stairs. It made an impression.”

Terushima told the story and he lifted the little cakes he made on an oven tray.

“But when we actually met, shook hands and learned each other’s names and all that jazz, was at the art gallery where Suga had his exhibition. My friend owns the gallery and she suggested that I come and see her friend’s amazing photo gallery.”

There was a soft smile on Terushima’s lips as he talked.

“Suga pretty much spent the entire exhibition just talking with me, ignoring everything else and it was flattering how I had his whole attention.”

Oikawa knew how that felt – Suga’s undivided attention. He sighed.

“And when he talked about his photos and his motivation and passion, I wanted to kiss him and listen to him talk about art for the rest of my life.”

Terushima opened the oven and pushed in the tray filled with little cakes.

“So, I asked him out.”

A silence fell in the kitchen at the end of Terushima’s story and he started to clean up after the mess of flours and other ingredients.

“How long ago was that?”

“About five or six months.”

“Wow,” Oikawa stated, the word lacking all the enthusiasm one usually has when they say the word. “And here I thought the two of you only had sex.”

Terushima chuckled quietly. “Good night, Oikawa-san.”

And with that, Oikawa finally straightened himself off the kitchen island he was leaning to and dragged his feet to his room.

He fell on his bed immediately, forgoing his pajamas and fell asleep with thoughts on Suga and his art.

 

...

 

“Suga?”

Suga stirred at the mention of his name.

“Suga, I have to go.”

The voice said right next to him. And Suga recognized that voice, the way it sounded when it spoke softly like it was caressing his name. He knew how that voice got lower when it was serious, and how it filled with laughter. He knew how it sounded with a moan or a whisper. He fell asleep with the memory of that voice.

Suga reached out towards the person that voice belonged to and grabbed a hold when his hand connected to something.

“No,” he mumbled against a pillow, his eyes were still closed and he realized that he was holding onto a cotton shirt.

There was laughter in the voice now. “Suga...”

“Come back to bed.” He pulled at the garment and the body dressed in it obliged the pull.

“Suga, I have to go to work,” he whispered.

A weight settled to sit down next to him and a warm body pressed partially against him.

“No,” Suga’s voice was determined. He opened his eye just a crack to look at the man. “Stay just a little longer.”

“I can’t. I have to go to work. I have to go and open the coffee shop,” Terushima reasoned and Suga sighed.  There was an apology in his voice and of course he was right. He had to go.

But Suga didn’t want to let go. He closed his eyes again to block away the upcoming image of Terushima leaving. He didn’t want to see it again. He felt so alone for a minute, or five or twenty, after Terushima left him alone in the bed where his warmth and touches still lingered on Suga’s skin. Suga held tighter onto the shirt.

Soft lips pressed a kiss on Suga’s temple, his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Terushima had to leave early almost every morning that they woke up in the same bed and Suga hated it. He wanted to spend more time with him in the mornings, and in general, and he had started to get up when Terushima did.

“Just for five minutes?” Suga pleaded.

Suga felt the press of a forehead against his hair and Terushima’s quiet sigh against his throat. He let go off the shirt. He knew what Terushima was going to say.

The weight on the mattress shifted and Suga knew he was about to stand up.

“I can stay for three.” Terushima’s words surprised him and Suga opened his eyes to see Terushima move to lie behind him.

Suga smiled as Terushima settled down, pressed as close as two people could be, nose pressed to his nape and a strong arm wrapped around him.

Suga had thought it before, and he thought it again at Terushima’s content sigh. He hated to leave before Suga was up, he hated to leave the warm body sleeping next to him.

“There’s a surprise for you in the kitchen when you get up,” Terushima spoke softly and Suga could feel his lips move against his skin. It caused shivers to tickle up Suga’s spine.

Suga didn’t care about surprises. He didn’t care about anything that didn’t exist in this bed at that moment.

He turned around in Terushima’s arms and tucked his head under his, wrapping his arms around him. He knew Terushima was going to get up too soon and he wasn’t ready to let go of his warmth.

“I probably won’t be able to come to the gallery until late,” Terushima kept speaking softly, preserving the calm that surrounded them.

“You don’t have to come.”

“I told you last night that I want to. And I still do.”

Terushima held Suga tighter and closer. Not physically, they couldn’t get physically any closer. But Suga still felt like they were closer.

“Can’t you skip work today? Stay in bed with me for the day. We’ll skip the gallery too,” Suga suggested, not all that seriously. Although, that was what he wanted more than anything. Just spend the day lying in his bed with Yuuji.

“I’d love that, but my customers would just go somewhere else to get their daily caffeine doses and I can’t have them drinking someone else’s shitty coffee,” Terushima said and loosened his hold on Suga. “And you can’t skip the gallery.”

“Yeah?” Watch me,” Suga threatened, head still tucked under Terushima’s and he lightly bit his clavicle.

“Suga...” Terushima laughed quietly. “I have to go.” He pressed his lips to Suga’s forehead and started to get up.

Suga reluctantly let go and watched Terushima roll out of bed. He was dressed in the same jeans he was wearing last night and in Suga’s forest green t-shirt. Suga loved him in that color and he knew that Terushima knew that. He must’ve put it on exactly for that reason.

“You look lovely like that,” Terushima commented and Suga drew his eyes up from Terushima’s chest to meet his affectionate eyes.

“Like what? Sleepy and hating to watch you go?”

“Exactly,” Terushima smiled softly and put his knee on the bed to lean over Suga. He caressed Suga’s cheek gently with his hand as he gave a kiss on Suga’s lips. “I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered and with one last caress stood straight again.

Suga watched Terushima pick up his jacket and shrug it on as he made his way to the room door. Suga mirrored his smile before he closed the door, leaving Suga alone and awake at 5:30 in the morning with nothing to do.

 

...

 

The apartment was quiet when Suga stood in the kitchen, in the perfect spot where sunrays hit the floor.

He had been up for hours already and had managed to shower, dress, eat breakfast and choose his clothes for tonight. He also managed to get a little bored. His DVDs were now in order according to the genre, not title.

Before soon, he’d have to start getting ready and head to Kiyoko’s gallery to start setting up for tonight.

He was so lost in his thoughts on the exhibit, that he didn’t hear Oikawa come.

“What are you doing?”

Oikawa’s voice made Suga jump out of his skin.

Suga took a deep breath to jump start his heart again. “I’m enjoying some microwaves.” Suga hid his sarcasm in his casual tone. “What does it look like?”

Practically, that was what he was doing. The perfect spot in the patch of sun also placed him right in front the microwave where he was heating up last night’s leftovers for lunch.

“Is there anything in the microwave?” Oikawa asked as he made coffee for himself.

Did Oikawa really think that he was so odd, that he would just stand in front of an empty microwave, watching the plate inside it slowly turn? Did he really just take him seriously about “enjoying some microwaves”?

Suga looked over his shoulder at Oikawa. “Of course.”

Suga took in Oikawa’s droopy eyelids and his mess of hair. He must’ve just woken up. It was adorable.

“I’m not that weird,” he told Oikawa and turned back to the microwave.

“Just making sure.” Oikawa’s tone was pacifying. “I haven’t stayed with you that long and I don’t really know you that well yet.”

That was a lie. Suga knew how spot on Oikawa’s observations were.

The microwave stopped and Suga took out his warm lunch. He loved that the microwave didn’t beep or ding, absolutely loved it.

“You got home late last night,” Suga said as he sat down by the kitchen island.

“School stuff.”

Oikawa’s answer was short and his tone hinted that he didn’t want to elaborate.

So, Suga let it go and watched Oikawa pour a cup of coffee and sweeten it. Suga thought that he drank too much coffee.

“Are you excited for tonight?” Oikawa asked, clearly waking up from the caffeine.

“Not really,” Suga admitted. He bit his lip and focused his eyes on his food.

“You’re not excited? How can you _not_ be excited? I’m going to be there.” Oikawa flashed his charming smile.  

It was hard not to smile at the size of Oikawa’s ego. Suga bit his lip to stop it from curling into a corresponding smile.

He took a big breath and focused on his food. “I’ll be excited after the exhibit if I’ve sold enough to secure next months’ rent,” Suga promised. He peeked up at Oikawa and saw him nod, accepting Suga’s explanation, and turn to look out the window, sipping his coffee.  

“You know, you don’t have to go to the gallery,” Suga said to Oikawa’s back. He had said the same to everyone. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t want them to come.

Oikawa turned to regard him with inquisitive eyes.

“But I want to go. I haven’t seen any of your photos before.”

“There’s one hanging in the hallway.” Suga pointed towards the hallway and the black and white photo he took when he was only 14. With his very first camera. It was his very first photo. “You pass by it every day.”

“But it’s different in an art gallery, right? With all your works displayed at the same time, a cohesive collection.”

“I guess,” Suga shrugged.

A silence settled around them then.

Suga ate his lunch and Oikawa drank his coffee, both lost in their own thoughts.

The spot of sunlight on the floor moved a little.

“So, you thought I pass my time by watching an empty microwave?” Suga asked to break the silence. He wanted to know how much of an alien did Oikawa think he is. He also wanted to think about something else than his gallery.

He wasn’t nervous, no. And he wasn’t exactly excited either. But there seemed to be some kind of anticipation running under his skin and Suga didn’t want to focus on it unless it’d blow up to be an unwanted feeling regarding his exhibit.

Oikawa smirked. “No offence, Suga-chan, but sometimes you’re a little weird,” he said, very much offending. “It’s possible that you’d find joy from watching a microwave.”

“Please tell me you’re not serious.”

Suga kept looking at Oikawa and Oikawa kept looking back.

The silence stretched between them again.

Until Oikawa leaned back against the counter and broke out in smile.

“I wasn’t all that serious,” he spoke into his cup.

“I think you’ll find Oikawa-san, that you’re more of an alien than I am,” Suga smiled lopsidedly and put away his empty plate. He started to walk away from the kitchen, leaving Oikawa alone with his indignant huff.

“Suga-chan?” Oikawa called when Suga had turned the corner to the hallway.

Suga walked two steps backwards back to the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows in question.

“How did you like Terushima’s jalapeno cakes?” Oikawa asked, eyeing them on the counter.

Suga smiled. He loved them, they were delicious.

“They’re heavenly. You can have one if you want to.” Suga pointed towards the plate by the fridge. “But only one,” he added sternly.

Oikawa kept looking at the cakes, but staying put. “I don’t hate my tongue that much.”

Suga chuckled.

“They’re not that hot. Actually, they’re mix of sweet and spicy.”

Oikawa crinkled his nose and Suga chuckled again.

“I’ll see you later Oikawa-san,” he said and left the kitchen again, a soft smile on his lips at the thought that Terushima had woken up earlier than usual just to make them.

 

...

 

“Kiyoko?” Suga called when he stepped inside the gallery.

Shimizu’s head popped into view from a doorway. “Hey Suga,” she said with a little barely-there-smile. “You’re early.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I hope that’s okay,” Suga spoke as he walked to her little office space at the back of the large mostly open space.

“Of course.” Shimizu hugged Suga.

“You look great,” Suga complimented her when they stepped away from the hug.

“So do you. Happy.”

Suga smiled. “Well, I am happy.”  

“Are you nervous about tonight?” Shimizu studied Suga’s face.

He shook his head. “No.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Suga kept smiling. “Unless you’re planning to tell me something to be nervous about. For example that my photos aren’t here.”

“They’re here.” Shimizu gave a small reassuring smile and started to lead the way to the back of the gallery. 

“I already caught a peek of them. I hope you don’t mind,” Shimizu said timidly as they walked.

Of course he didn’t mind. He was interested in her opinion though. Shimizu was one of the rare people whose opinion about his “art” mattered to him.

“Oh? What did you think?”

“They look great,” Shimizu said with all honesty. “And interesting.”

Suga cocked his eyebrow at Shimizu’s latter tone. “You saw it?”

“Yes, I saw it,” Shimizu nodded. “It’s going to draw in a lot of attention. Was Terushima-san okay with you having it in your exhibit?”

“He was,” Suga nodded with a soft smile. 

Shimizu studied his face for a moment, and Suga tilted his head a little to the side.

“Don’t you believe me?”

“I’m actually not surprised that he agreed.”

No, she wouldn’t be. They had known each other since university after all, and anyone who knew Terushima wouldn’t be.

It was one of those funny twists in the universe why Suga hadn’t met Terushima until six months ago, even though they had a common friend.

“Do you have an idea for the order of the photos?” Shimizu asked and uncovered one of the framed black and white photos.

“No,” Suga took another frame. “It doesn’t really matter what order they are in.”

Shimizu gave Suga a look that told him she disagreed whole-heartedly.

“I know you think it matters.” Suga placed the photo in his hands on the wall. “I’m just saying that I don’t think it matters.”

Shimizu let out a little sigh as Suga took the photo she was holding and put it on another wall.

“Well, it’s your exhibit.”

Suga grinned at Shimizu’s “consent” to put the photos in no particular order and went back to get another photo to hang up.

“Suga,” Shimizu caught his attention.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re happy.” There was a proud little smile in her eyes when Suga looked at her.

“Thank you.”

He turned back to what he was doing and picked up the photo of Terushima he had taken almost two months ago. An instinctive affectionate smile lit his face.

He was truly happy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued: 
> 
> Suga's gallery  
> “There could be a ghost aggressively breakdancing next to you and you’d have no idea.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga's gallery

 

“There could be a ghost aggressively breakdancing next to you and you’d have no idea.”

“Bokuto, shut up. You’re starting to scare me.” Kuroo sounded genuinely alarmed and Kenma patted his shoulder gently to soothe him. “You’ve spent too much time with Akaashi.”

Bokuto looked a little confused at that and tilted his head as he looked at Kuroo. “How could I spend too much time with my boyfriend?”

Suga tried to stifle his laughter as he listened to them a little farther away. None of them had noticed him yet. He took the time to shake off the jeepers-creepers he got from Bokuto’s earlier comment. He didn’t need the mental image of a friendly ghost called Casper performing the sickest windmill right next to him, thank you very much.

And you’re welcome.

“Bro, I’m just saying that you’re more and more like him.”

“Suga!” Hinata exclaimed when he saw Suga, the only one looking around them.

Guess he was spotted, Suga grinned.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted them with a happy smile he felt wholeheartedly. “Thanks for coming.”

“We would have come even if you didn’t want us to,” Bokuto beamed.

“A good turnout you got,” Kuroo commented and Suga looked around.

There were a lot of people milling around in the large space. He honestly wasn’t expecting this many.

“Yeah, it’ll take some time for you to walk through the gallery,” Suga said and turned to look at Kenma. “You can leave whenever you want to.”

“Don’t worry, Suga-san. I’ve got him.” Hinata put his arm around Kenma’s waist.

“I’ll be fine,” Kenma answered Suga’s worried look and pulled out a handheld game console.

Of course he would be fine.

Suga had already shown Kenma his exhibit photos a couple of days ago. He knew that Hinata wanted to come to the exhibit, and Kenma would want to go with him. But the game console was a coping mechanism for Kenma, a way not to interact with people. He knew Kenma would miss the photos staring down at the console and he had suggested that he showed them to Kenma in advance. That way he would know what everyone was talking about, what Hinata was talking about.

He had accepted Suga’s suggestion with a nod and a small smile.

Suga had observed intently Kenma’s face and reactions to the photos when he looked through them. There had been only one photo that had broken the reserved façade. He had looked straight to Kenma’s eyes in an answer to the unspoken question.

_Yes_

“Well, have fun. And enjoy the champagne,” Suga said to the group, reminding himself to keep an ear out for the loud exclaims that he knew were going to come from them at some point.

 

...

 

“Wow,” Daichi stopped short, causing Iwaizumi and Oikawa to walk smack in to his back.

“What’s up?”

“There are a lot more people here than I thought there would be,” Daichi explained, looking around him in excited confusion.

Oikawa looked around the gallery too. The high ceiling made the space look bigger and the white walls, Oikawa was glad to note, weren’t hospital white. The people walking and standing around the place made it seem smaller and warmer than it probably normally was.

There were black and white photos, the size of a 40” flat screen TV’s, Oikawa estimated, hung up on the walls. Everyone seemed pleased at what they were looking at.

Gentle music floated around in the air, echoing in the open spaces and drowning under the mild chatter of people.

Oikawa was intrigued and he had to admit that he was quite eager about seeing Suga’s photos.

“Should we look for Suga-chan?” He turned to ask from Iwaizumi and Daichi.

“I’d start with the champagne.” Iwaizumi noted. “Before it’s all gone.”

“Kiyoko wouldn’t let that happen,” Daichi assured him and started to lead the way towards the serving.

As they waded through the people photogazing (Oikawa didn’t care if that was a word he just made up) and he caught glimpses of the photos. He really couldn’t wait to get closer to see them better.

“Hey, Kiyoko,” Daichi greeted a black haired woman standing by a wide table. “Quite a turnout.”

Oikawa thought that objectively, this woman was absolutely gorgeous. Her black dress was immaculate and it fit the gallery’s atmosphere perfectly. She shone with beauty and grace in her delicate movements. But he wasn’t really into women and the thought process stopped there.

The woman, Kiyoko, nodded at Daichi and handed them all a glass of champagne. Oikawa wondered if it was Suga’s idea or a common courtesy in art galleries and exhibits.

“You remember Hajime, right?” Daichi asked from her and she nodded in answer. “And this is Oikawa Tooru.” He gestured towards him. “Oikawa, Shimizu Kiyoko. We’ve known each other since high school,” Daichi told him.

“Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Oikawa smiled charmingly.

“Is Suga around or is he hiding in your office again?”

“He’s around.” Kiyoko handed two glasses to other people and turned back to them. “At least I think so.”

“He’s probably in the throngs listening to people singing their praises,” Iwaizumi said. “And hating every second of it.”

“Should we walk around? Maybe we’ll find Suga-chan.”

“I don’t know, I kind of like the alcohol at an arm’s reach here,” Iwaizumi mused.

Daichi chuckled. “It won’t be so busy with people later. It’ll be easier to walk then. Plus, Suga’s busy with buyers anyway.”

“Well, I’m going to walk around anyway.” Oikawa decided and started to wade through the throng of people, waiting patiently to see each photo. He was lucky he had an advantage with his height.

He caught a sighting of Suga now and then, but he was always talking with someone and Oikawa didn’t want to intrude. He could congratulate Suga on the success of the exhibit later.

The photos were beautiful, all of them black and white. And in each one, Suga had managed to capture a moment in middle of bigger moment, or a motion in midst of another. There seemed to be movement in the still photos. They were almost mesmerizing.

Why wouldn’t he have this kind of success and this many buyers when the photos were so captivating? The subject matters in the photos were interesting and Oikawa didn’t know if it was the angle or the focus of the photo, or both, that made them almost breathtaking at times.

Especially the one he was looking at right then.

Oh

Wow

Daichi and Iwaizumi needed to see this.

Now

Oikawa started to walk towards the place he last saw them. It must’ve been at least twenty minutes since he left them in the dreamland of alcoholics, and that's where he found them.  

They were talking to each other, standing close enough for their shoulders to touch, smiling softly at each other.

Oikawa looked at the pair for a second before he made his presence known by stepping closer and clearing his throat.

“You’re back already? That was quick,” Iwaizumi said when he noticed Oikawa.

“I only made through about a half of them. You need to come and see something.” He tilted his head towards the photos.

Daichi and Iwaizumi traded a look.

“Now,” he pressed. “Trust me, you want to see it before you see Suga.”

Daichi looked at Iwaizumi with a question.

Oikawa could practically read his thoughts: “Is it normal for him to be this cryptic?”

Iwaizumi just shrugged at Daichi’s expression.

“Just follow me,” Oikawa urged them and started to walk, confident that they’d follow him.

Oikawa lead them straight to the photo, as fast as he could without running and bumping into someone. He kept glancing behind him to make sure that the two didn’t get lost in the sea of people.

And he was definitely not disappointed when he saw their expressions when their eyes landed on the photo.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “That’s a picture of a half-naked man, I get it.” Iwaizumi seemed to be having trouble tearing his eyes away from it. “But I don’t get the significance of dragging us here to see it.”

“That’s Terushima Yuuji,” Oikawa informed them with a smug grin.

Daichi dragged his widened eyes to Oikawa and then back.

“That’s him?”

“Holy shit.”

“Okay, now I believe you’ve never met him,” Oikawa conceded.

He had honestly doubted if Daichi had told him the truth about that.

 

...

 

Daichi didn’t know, or care, how long they stared at the photo of Terushima-kun.

It was so beautiful.

And he was handsome as hell.

Where did Suga find the men he dated? They were all unbelievably good looking.

They must’ve been staring at the photo long enough for it to seem inappropriate.

“Did you know that Suga has taken other photos too?” Kiyoko asked quietly and Daichi turned to look at her. It took some effort to tear his eyes away from Terushima.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to get stuck here,” he apologized, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He was a little embarrassed that he had been found ogling.

“I don’t mind,” Kiyoko said and there was an almost imperceptible glint of amusement in her eyes. “But the subject of the photo is here.”

“Oh, yeah. It’d be weird to meet him while staring the photo, wouldn’t it?”

“Just a little,” she nodded.

“Where’s Suga?” Hajime asked. He had also managed to tear his focus from the gorgeous photo. Daichi looked around himself and noticed that Oikawa was gone.

“Busy with buyers,” Kiyoko answered and with one fluid motion tucked her open hair behind her ear. “He’s doing well.” There was proudness in Kiyoko’s voice as she looked around the space and Daichi followed her gaze. The number of art lovers had dwindled a little and it would be easier to walk around now.

They should do that.

“Do you want to look around?” Daichi asked Hajime and he nodded.

“Enjoy,” Kiyoko said and turned to walk away from them.

Daichi took Hajime’s hand in his and they started to walk from photo to photo.

They were all beautiful, they always were. And Daichi would gladly own every one of them, if he had the space to hang them up.

“I feel like this gallery is more cohesive than the last one,” Hajime said when they stopped to look at photo of two people, hidden behind their umbrellas, reaching to hold hands, clearly leaning towards each other.

Every photo had an action, a motion. They seemed to be moving, or giving the implication that if you looked at them long enough, you could catch the people in them moving.

“I agree.”

Daichi recognized Asahi’s voice and turned towards it.

Nishinoya was standing next to Asahi. Right next to him.  

They really weren’t being subtle.

“How’re you guys?” Hajime asked.

“Good, thank you,” Asahi answered first, taking a little side step further from Nishinoya.

Not subtle at all.

“I just got my driver’s license so I’m really good,” Nishinoya beamed at them.

“Congratulations.” Daichi smiled at him. It had only taken five years and countless tries for Nishinoya to pass the exam. He could be a little reckless. As glad as Daichi was for him, he was a little apprehensive too, thinking about the possible future casualties.

“Have you seen Suga?” Asahi asked and looked around, going out of his way not to look at Nishinoya.

It wasn’t subtle at all. He should probably tell Asahi that he knew. But Asahi probably had his reasons for not telling him. That thought always held Daichi’s tongue. Asahi would tell him if he wanted and he would do his best to act like it was news to him.

“No.”

“He’s been busy.”

Daichi looked around in search of the man of the hour again. He didn’t see him, but he did see another familiar face.

“I’m going to say hi to Hinata.” He jerked with his chin towards a small group congregating near the front doors.

“I’ll come with you.”

Guess Hajime didn’t want to be the third wheel with Asahi and Noya. Daichi knew how awkward it felt.

“You guys coming?” Daichi asked.  

“We just saw him yesterday,” Nishinoya informed with a smile and an eye roll.

Right, they lived in the same building. Why did he keep forgetting that?

“Okay, we’ll catch you later.” Daichi noted and saw Asahi’s eyes widen at the accidental double meaning.

Hajime chuckled next to him.“Are you ever going to tell him that you know?” He asked.

“He’d just freak out if I told him that I knew his secret.”

Daichi looked over his shoulder again at Asahi and Nishinoya. He noted how close they were standing again and how Nishinoya was smiling up at the taller man. There was a slight blush on Asahi's cheeks.

No, he wouldn’t tell.

It was their secret and if they were happy in it, and it wasn’t harming anyone, he could let them be.

 

...

 

 

Suga had been pulled from one way to the other as everyone seemed to have questions and wanted to sing their praises.

“Your photos are wonderful, Sugawara-san,” a fancy looking lady said and looked around her in awe. “Just wonderful.”

He didn’t remember her name, even though she had just introduced herself. Honestly, after the twentieth woman dressed like everyone else, Suga couldn’t remember anyone’s names anymore. It was the same with the men too. They all started to blend into one another when he couldn't have a moment's respite.

“Thank you.” Suga bowed.

“I came to your last exhibit too, and it was phenomenal.”

“Thank you.” He bowed again.

“But I think this is even better. Just...” She sighed in awe.

“Thank you,” Suga said and bowed for the umpteenth time. Not just to this lady, but overall. He had made it a game first, trying to keep score of how many “thank yous” he got to say but he had gotten mixed with his calculations when someone threw in a particularly vulgar compliment about the photo of Terushima.

“Do you already know when your next exhibit is going to be?”

 “No not yet.”

“Oh, well, if it’s as good as this one, it’s going to be beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Suga bowed once again.

This was getting ridiculous. The words “thank” and “you” strung together would lose all meaning to him if he said them one more time. He was sure of it.

He should hand out customer critique cards at his next gallery.

 

...

 

_Bang bang bangity bang I said a bang bang bangity bang_

_Bang bang bangity bang I said a bang ba –_

Kuroo answerd his phone, knowing what he’d hear.

“Where the hell are you?” Bokuto asked immediately.

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “By the toilets.”

“Why? Did you get a quickie or something?”

“Of course not. I went to check my hair.”

“Of course you did.”

Kenma had actually snorted earlier when he had informed their little group that he needed a mirror to check that his hair was sticking up and down and sideways in right angles.

Of course it would be extremely funny to Kenma how he took care of his appearance. How they all did.

Kuroo had spent close to twenty minutes on his hair alone, before they had left for the gallery and who knows how long it had taken Bokuto. The owl always complained that his hair was especially unmanageable.

“Don’t hate me just because I’m better looking than you,” Kuroo said with a smug grin that he knew the man on the other end of the call couldn’t see.

“You wish you looked as beautiful as me. Have you seen my thighs?”

“Please,” Kuroo said flippantly. “Are you coming here or do I have to find you?”

“I’ll come there. Don’t. Move.” Bokuto ordered before he hung up.

Kuroo pocketed his phone and examined the photo closest to him. He had only stopped to look at few of the many photos Suga had taken, but so far, they were all exceptionally captivating.

“Hey asshole,” Bokuto alerted Kuroo to his presence.

“What took you so long?”

“Beauty waits for no one.”

“I know. That’s why I never wait for anyone.” Kuroo smirked. “Where did you leave Akaashi?”

“He said he saw Suga and took off, I don’t know.” Bokuto shrugged like it’s not a big deal.

Kuroo still wondered, after almost three years, how Suga and Akaashi managed to stay friends after they broke up. It hadn’t been nasty, but there had been a palpable tension of awkwardness when they hung around as a group.

It didn’t last long, of course. Suga had been nothing but friendly smiles and encouraging words for Bokuto and Akaashi. And Bokuto had been careful about any kind of pda in the beginning when Suga was close by. But Kuroo couldn’t help but think that Akaashi might be holding some kind of feelings towards Suga. He kept calling him “Koushi” whenever he was drunk.

Thankfully, it didn’t bother Bokuto. Kuroo had once asked about it from him, and because Bokuto was incapable of lying, Kuroo knew he had told the truth when he said he didn’t mind that Akaashi called Suga by his first name.

“Where’s Kenma and Hinata?”

“No idea.” Bokuto shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pants’ pockets nonchalantly. “They’re short so they got lost in the mass of people.”

Kuroo chuckled at the mental image of them getting swallowed by the throng of bodies and ending up crawling on the floor from photo to photo, trying not to get trampled.

Kenma probably wouldn’t care if he didn’t see the photos on the walls. Kuroo knew that he was the only one who had seen them beforehand.

He had asked Kenma to reveal something, a hint at the theme at least, but Kenma had been as tight lipped as Suga.

“Do you want to go look for Suga?” He asked Bokuto.

“I actually want to see the photos.” Bokuto grinned excitedly. “There’s a big mass of people in front of one and I kind of want to see what’s so interesting.”

“Finally, familiar faces.”

“Oikawa! I didn’t know you’d be coming too.”

“You know, I’m really glad that I did.” There was a haughty smirk on Oikawa’s face.

Bokuto approved his comment. “That’s good.”

“Oh, you’ll be really glad that you came too. Just wait till you see it,” Oikawa spoke cryptically.

“See what?” Kuroo asked. He had known Oikawa maybe a month, and hadn’t spent that much time with him. But he had learned that Oikawa didn’t get excited like this easily. It ran deep in him and bubbled to the surface rarely. The only other thing Kuroo knew about Oikawa was that he was definitely gay.

“The photo.” Oikawa’s smile turned impish.

Kuroo looked at Bokuto in case he had any idea what was going on. He met his eyes and the man’s expression was just as confused as his definitely was.

“What photo?” Bokuto asked this time.

“The photo every gay man in Tokyo is going to talk about.”

Yeah, that cleared everything up, thank you Oikawa-san, Kuroo thought sarcastically.

“Well, that’s definitely something I need to see. Where is it?” Bokuto started to walk even though he didn’t have any idea where the photo was.

“Come on, I’ll show you.” Oikawa motioned with his hand for them to follow him.

 

...

 

“Hey, Suga.”

Suga smiled at Daichi and hugged him as soon as he was close enough to reach.

“Hey.” He tightened his hold before he let go. It had been too long since the last time they saw each other and Suga had missed him dearly.

“Thanks for coming.” Suga stepped away from Daichi.

“No need to thank me, of course I’m here.”

Suga smiled and waited for Daichi to say what he was clearly burning to say.

“So,” Daichi started.

Here we go.

“I saw the photo of Terushima-san.” Daichi pointed vaguely to the direction the photo was in.

Suga nodded, still waiting.

“I don’t really know what to say.”

Suga nodded again.

“But I’d like to know more, maybe meet the man so I know what he looks like when he’s wearing clothes. If he’s wearing clothes,” Daichi joked.

“You’ll meet him, don’t worry. And he dresses accordingly to any situation,” Suga assured him.

“It’s a beautiful photo.”

“Thank you.”

“Everything here, really, is just beautiful,” Daichi complimented. “This is probably your best exhibit yet.”

“Don’t tell that to my mom,” Suga warned him. “She couldn’t come and I don’t want her to think that she’s missing on something.”

“You’re going to show her the photos anyway.”

“Yes, but apparently it’s not the same as being in a room surrounded by them and the _ambiance,"_ Suga said. “Her words, not mine,” he added when he noticed Daichi’s amused expression.

“Where’s Iwaizumi-san?”

“Looking around with Oikawa. He actually ran to us when he saw the photo of Terushima-san and dragged us up to it and told us who it was of.”

“So, I have to ask...?” Daichi asked carefully, like he was approaching a bear during hibernation. “You’ve never photographed any of your ex-boyfriends. And I remember why.” Daichi stopped there again, hesitating. “Does that mean that... Are you in love with him?”

Suga bit his lip. He could tell Daichi. He wanted to.

He wasn’t ready to admit it yet though. It sometimes scared him how strongly he felt about Terushima, how much he loved him.

“I really care about him, Daichi.”

“I know.” Daichi smiled softly at him. “And I get why you’re so protective about the relationship. I’ve never seen you like this with your exes.”

“I’m a little scared,” Suga admitted.

Daichi nodded, still wearing a soft smile. “It’s okay to be scared. Does he know what it means? That you’ve put up his photo in your exhibit?”

“I haven’t told him, but he might’ve guessed.”

Suga remembered how Terushima had looked at him when he asked his permission. The kiss that had been unlike any of the previous ones.

“So, you haven’t told him that you...?”

“No,” Suga shook his head. He hadn’t told. But he should.

 

...

 

“Wow.”

“Holy shit.”

“Just... wow.”

“Hold my hand,” Kuroo said and reached towards Oikawa’s hand and he obliged.

“Where does Suga keep meeting these guys?”

“I take it that Teru-chan isn’t the first good-looking guy Suga-chan has dated.” Oikawa sipped the champagne in his hand.

He hadn’t counted how many glasses he had already drank, but he should probably switch to water soon or he’d wobble home like a Bambi trying to learn to walk. He had video evidence of him walking drunk, and he really did look like a Bambi. It was both embarrassing and adorable.

And according to Iwaizumi, funny as hell.

“Try fifth,” Bokuto answered Oikawa’s comment.

“Seriously, where does he keep finding them?” Nishinoya asked again, before he seemed to catch Asahi’s eyes. “Not that I’d go there to find one too.”

Kuroo almost snorted, “I would.”

So would Oikawa.

He, Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi, and Asahi and Nishinoya were standing by the photo of Terushima, pretty much ogling it.

It was a beautiful shot, of a beautiful man. He was visible upwards from his hips, you could just see the waistband of his jeans that were hanging low over his hipbones. The focus of the photo was on his face that is turned away and all you could see was his downturned profile. Of course for Oikawa, and seemingly to everyone else, the main focus was on the shirtless upper body that was turned away to the same direction as his face.

There was no hint what Terushima was doing when Suga took the photo, but Oikawa could guess.

And when you looked at the photo long enough, your eyes were drawn to Terushima’s expression. He looked happy, content, in love and soft and gentle all at the same time.

“Do you think it’s been photoshopped?” Bokuto tilted his head to look at it in a new angle.

“May I help you?”

They all collectively froze, eyes widened, at the familiar voice and they turned slowly to look.

Terushima cocked his eyebrow when the men just stared at him.

Oikawa was a little miffed that the man looked good in his casual wear, hands in his pants’ pockets, like he belonged there as a work of art.

Asahi was the first to recover and promptly took his leave, cheeks burning.

“Is this photoshopped?” Bokuto asked from Terushima, pointing at the photo.

An amused smile grew on Terushima’s face. He looked at the photo and then back to Bokuto. “No.”

“Okay, I’m going to need a live proof to believe that.” Kuroo shook himself from his frozen posture and reached towards the man they were shamelessly leering at to lift his shirt.

Terushima stepped back to avoid Kuroo’s groping hand.

He laughed at Kuroo, “Nice try.”

“How did I know I’d find you all here?” Suga asked and Nishinoya immediately turned to him.

“Are there more shots of when Terushima posed for the photo?” 

“He didn’t pose for the photo,” Suga answered Nishinoya’s question as he wrapped his arms around Terushima from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

Terushima smiled at the contact. Oikawa saw the subtle move he made to lean against Suga’s chest.

“Suga, did you photoshop this photo?” Bokuto asked the question he was fixating on.

Akaashi was the only who had been quiet so far. He looked disinterested in the conversation overall. But he looked like that practically all the time.

“No,” Suga answered, stepping to Terushima’s side, leaving one arm around his waist.

“I really need to see it for real,” Kuroo said gravely.

“He really wasn’t posing?” Nishinoya wanted to make sure.

“It was just that one photo.” Suga studied the photo. “Yuuji looked good and I wanted to capture that moment.”

Oikawa noticed how Terushima looked at Suga when he talked. He would recognize that soft look and the feeling behind it anywhere.

“Okay, I have another question.” Oikawa cut in and everyone turned their heads to look at him. “When did you take it? What was Teru-chan about to do when you wanted to capture the moment?”

“None of your business,” Suga answered little too quickly.

Oikawa grinned.

“So, it was either right before or immediately after sex.” Bokuto stated and everyone nodded in agreement. Well, everyone except Suga, who was stone-faced, and Teruhima who was smirking.

“You guys are drawing attention to yourselves.”

Daichi sounded amused.

The group grew even larger with Daichi and Iwaizumi and they were definitely drawing attention. There were glances thrown towards them from the other people occupying the space.

“They’re not looking at us. They’re looking at the photo.” Akaashi pointed to it. Probably true, but they couldn’t see it through the bodies in front of it.

“Psh, they’re obviously looking at me.” Oikawa flipped his hair. “After all, I would’ve made a lot more beautiful subject. Shirtless or not.”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Oikawa, we’ve talked about this.”

“It’s hard to be humble when you’re the archetype of handsome.”

Kuroo and Bokuto started to laugh _very loudly_ at Oikawa’s comment. Iwaizumi dropped his head in to his hand in exasperation and Daichi lifted his hand in front of his mouth to stifle his laughter. Nishinoya shook with his silent chuckles as he leaned heavily to Daichi.

Oikawa looked at them like they were stupid. Even Suga who had restrained himself just to roll his eyes. Terushima however looked at Oikawa like he was thinking seriously about his comment.

“Do you want to leave them here ogle at you?” Suga turned to ask Terushima before anyone had the chance to calm down.

“Why not?” He shrugged.

“And you lot,” Suga pointed to them all. “Behave.” He looked stern. “I’ll take the photo down if I have to.”

“I’ll keep them from causing any more trouble.” Daichi promised. He was composed once again.  

Kuroo and Bokuto were still laughing. Oikawa wanted to smack them.

Suga looked unsure and noticing his hesitation, Iwaizumi put his hand on Daichi’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry Suga. We’ll babysit them.”

“Okay,” Suga nodded.

Terushima took his hand and started to pull him away from the group.

“I need to see them with my own eyes or I won’t believe those abs are real!” Kuroo shouted after them, still hiccupping with laughter.

 

...

 

_Can we meet tonight?_

 

Your place?

_Let me know when you’re coming_

 

...

 

“It’s so cute when straight guys think I put make up on for them.”

“You’re not wearing makeup, Makki.”

“I know, but that guy there keeps looking at me.”

They turned to look where Hanamaki gestured with his chin.

“I’m pretty sure he’s gay,” Matsukawa said. “He keeps flirting with every male in here.”

“So?”

“So. Why would it matter then if you’re wearing makeup?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

They both said it like they just proved their points.

“How you two manage to communicate with each other at all is beyond me,” Iwaizumi said, clearly done with them.

Oikawa had no idea what they were talking about, and didn’t want to find out. He wasn’t paying attention. “I think I’m going to take off,” he told them and pocketed his cell phone.

The three turned to look at Oikawa with varying expressions of surprise.

“Already?” Matsukawa asked. “But we didn’t get to loudly talk about our sex life yet.”

“That’s why now would be the perfect time for leaving.”

“Okay, so, this one time we were in a bar and we got really horny and went to the bathroom to ru –“ Hanamaki started to talk mile a minute.

Thank god, Iwaizumi interrupted him.

“I’ve already heard this story,” he interjected Hanamaki. “Are you sure?” He pointed the question to Oikawa. 

“Yeah, I’m a little tired,” Oikawa shrugged dismissively.

Iwaizumi studied his face and nodded. Oikawa knew he had bags under his eyes. He didn’t sleep more than four hours that morning. He felt like he’s been up for a lifetime since then.

“Oikawa, since you’re going to strand us here all alone and without supervision –“  Matsukawa clapped his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“What do you mean without supervision?” Oikawa frowned. “Iwa-chan is here.”

“So is Sawamura-san,” Hanamaki said and he had a suggestive look in his eyes to let them know exactly what he meant with that.

“Since you’re going,” Matsukawa began again, his hand still on Oikawa’s shoulder. “I’m going to leave you with this thought: what if, instead of laughing when something’s funny, our ears started to wiggle uncontrollably?”

Oikawa didn’t know what to do or say. The image of Matsukawa’s ears wiggling instead of laughing was hilarious, he had to admit. But there was no way he’d admit it to the man.

He kept his face as normal and vague as possible. So did Iwa-chan. Hanamaki, of course, was smirking like a mad man.

“Yeah, I’m going to go,” Oikawa said as parting words and headed towards the gallery’s front doors.

“Alright, bye-bye.” Hanamaki cooed and waved his hand childishly.

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Matsukawa’s laughter and saw Iwaizumi wiggling Matsukawa’s ears with his hands.

A smile crept on Oikawa’s lips. He wondered if Hanamaki and Matsukawa hadn’t had sex lately with each other. It would explain the onslaught of ridiculousness he had been subjected to.

 

...

 

”Please tell me it’s time to close the doors, Kiyoko,” Suga pleaded, his torso slumped over the table that had been the unofficial serving station fort thirsty artlovers.

Shimizu gently patted Suga’s head. “In a bit,” she told him.

Suga took a deep breath.

The exhibition had been a success and Suga was exhausted from talking to so many people. He wanted to go home. He wanted to eat and fall asleep. He wanted to relax and never do this again.

“You did really well today,” Shimizu said quietly.

“Thank you.” Suga was pleased with himself, although he had grown weary.

“But I think you should have an agent.”

Suga sighed. He had thought that exact thing a few hours earlier. It would take away some of the stress from him and it could increase the number of sold photos.

He should look into it later.

“Can we close the doors now?” He straightened with effort and turned to look at Shimizu.

Shimizu gave him a small smile and a nod. She put her hand on his shoulder as she passed by him to go lock the doors.

Suga was left alone then and he let his eyes roam around the space. He took notice of his friends who were still lingering, among the last stragglers.

He might’ve been exhausted, but it had been a fun evening. His friends had come, and he had sold enough to cover the rent for the next year, at least. He smiled, thoroughly pleased.

His smile turned softer when a warm body pressed on his back and arms wrapped around him. A nose nuzzled his hair behind his ear.

Suga closed his eyes to take in the affection and a chin was propped on his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming,” he wrapped his arms over the ones wrapped around him.

“Of course I came.” Lips pressed against Suga’s temple. “This was fun.”

“Which part? Being ogled by everyone, or witnessing how your photo was ogled by everyone?”

Terushima chuckled and moved to stand in front of Suga.

“Watching you and feeling proud.”

Suga stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Terushima’s shoulders to kiss him softly.

“Thank you for coming,” he said in a whisper. “It means a lot to me.” It really meant the world for Suga that Terushima had come.

Terushima nodded with a happy smile on his lips and kissed Suga, soft and lingering, mindful of the people still inside the gallery.

“Suga, we’re leaving now.”

Suga loosened his hold around Terushima and took a small step away to turn towards Daichi. Terushima kept his hands on Suga’s waist.

“Is Kiyoko kicking you out?”

Daichi chuckled. “Kind of.”

Suga looked towards the front door and saw Shimizu patiently gesturing for the last people to leave.

“But we’re still on for dinner on Sunday, right?” Bokuto’s voice asked.

Suga turned back to look at Daichi and saw his ragtag group of friends standing close by. They must’ve crept up to him while Suga and Terushima were otherwise occupied.

“Terushima-kun, if I buy you a drink, will you show me what’s under your shirt?” Kuroo asked and draped himself on Terushima’s back.

“No,” Terushima said with an amused smile, his hands slipping off of Suga’s waist.

“Two drinks?”

Suga rolled his eyes.

“Forget it, Kuroo.” Bokuto interjected before Suga had the chance. “Terushima’s going to save that body for Suga.”

“Come on, you want to see it too!” Kuroo said back, pointing his finger at Bokuto. “Don’t act like you don’t.”

Kuroo let go off Terushima and leaned conspiratorially towards Suga. “You’ll help me make Terushima-kun show me his beautiful naked body, won’t you?”

Suga tried not to laugh at his desperate plea.

“How much did you drink?” He lightly punched Kuroo on his stomach.

“Just enough to forget how I’m continuously rejected.”

“I thought you’re dating someone, Kuroo-san,” Hinata spoke up.

Hinata had Kenma draped on his back, and Hinata had wrapped his arms behind himself around Kenma’s back. The two were too adorable together.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate male beauty.”

“Okay, can we go now?” Iwaizumi asked impatiently.

Daichi smiled softly at him. “Yeah, let’s go. I don’t think I can listen to this nonsense any more either.”

“What nonsense?” Bokuto looked confused. He truly was the best friend anyone could have. “We were just admiring Terushima’s now-hidden abs. What’s nonsense about that?”

“Kuroo, I can show you mine if you show me yours,” Tanaka offered.

“I’ve already seen yours.”

“Okay, we’re going now.” Daichi took Iwaizumi’s hand.

“Come on, Kou.” Akaashi gestured and they followed Daichi and Iwaizumi out.

Everyone started to file out after that. In a minute, everyone had said their goodbyes and when the front door closed after Kenma and Hinata, still walking like a pair of koalas, Suga sighed in relief.

Terushima was still beside him, smiling proudly.

Suga wanted to go home, but he wanted to go with him.

“Kiyoko?” Suga asked and she came up to them. “Thank you for being the best gallery owner in the world.” He hugged her.

Shimizu held him as tight as he was holding her.

“I’ll come by Sunday to help you take down the photos,” he promised, for the seventh time that day, as he let go off her.

Shimizu smiled her small smile that still managed to light up her face. “I know Suga. This is the seventh time you’re telling me.”

“I know, and I’ll say it the eight time tomorrow and ninth on Sunday morning.”

“I’ll see you on Sunday, then.”

Shimizu nodded to Terushima and turned towards her office.

Terushima started to gently steer Suga towards the front doors, his arm around Suga’s back.

Suga heaved a weary breath when they stepped out. The fresh air felt extremely nice after hours spent inside.

It had gotten dark in a blink of an eye, Suga thought as he looked down the street that was now illuminated by neon signs and streetlamps. It had been light out when Suga had entered the gallery.  The past hours went by in a blur. They truly felt like minutes to him.

He turned to Terushima. “Did I thank you for coming yet?”

Terushima chuckled and lifted his head to look at the sky. Suga studied his profile, down his forehead and along his nose, over his lips and to his jaw. The photo hanging behind him, separated only by a row of windows, did turn out beautiful. But nothing beat the real thing. No matter how beautiful a person could be when they were immortalized on a still photo, it didn’t beat the real thing.

There was more life on everything, more to see and more to love, when they weren’t captured and framed.

Terushima lowered his head back to look at Suga.

“Yes, you did. Numerous times.”

There was a soft smile on his lips and Suga wanted to kiss it. He already knew how that smile felt against his lips and he wanted to experience it again.

“Good,” Suga nodded and they started to walk down the street.

He would gladly walk longer with Terushima on a night like this. The sky was clear of clouds and there was the gentlest wind blowing down the street. Even though he couldn’t see the stars because of the brightness of the city and the smoke that blanketed it, he knew they were there. It was comforting.

But he was getting more and more tired as the adrenaline and excitement of success was waning out of him.

Suga didn’t even know what time it was anymore and had no concept on whether he should already be tired, or was it earlier than usual for him to feel this tired.

He took Terushima’s hand in his.

“Do you want to go home or my place?” Terushima asked gently.

“Your place is closer.”

“Yes, it is.” Terushima kissed Suga’s cheek and held Suga’s hand tighter in his.

 

...

 

“You got here fast.” Kageyama said as a greeting when he opened the door.

“I was nearby.”

“Were you at a party or something?”

Kageyama was looking up and down at him, taking in what he was wearing. The button down and slacks he was wearing were on the fancier side of the clothes he usually wore.

Kageyama however was wearing only cut-off sweatpants and a simple t-shirt.

This was one of the two reasons why Oikawa never went out with him.

“No,” he answered and took off his shoes.

Kageyama headed further in to the apartment, which wasn’t that far in his studio apartment. It was even smaller than Yahaba’s, basically just a large bedroom with an oven and a fridge.

“I have to finish an email to a professor,” Kageyama said, sitting down by the kitchen counter and started typing immediately on his laptop.

“That’s fine,” Oikawa told him and lied down on Kageyama’s bed. “I’ll wait.”

Kageyama glanced up from the laptop at him.

Oikawa flashed his haughty grin and folded his arms under his head.

He kept looking at Kageyama; he liked how the man frowned when he was concentrating on something.

“Don’t think too hard,” he teased the younger man.

Kageyama glanced up at him again and Oikawa liked how the frown was aimed at him now. He got Kageyama’s attention.

“How’s your dissertation going?”

And now he was regretting it. Oikawa pursed his lips at the bite. Kageyama knew he hadn’t even started yet. So of course it wasn’t going at all.

“I didn’t come here just to watch you sit by your laptop,” Oikawa said with hidden frustration in his voice.

“I thought you liked watching me.”

“Normally, yes, when you’re wearing less clothes.” Oikawa smirked and lifted his chin to look down at Kageyama in his lying position. “But I already spent most of my evening looking at a photo of a gorgeous shirtless man and I kind of need to do something about that.”

“Don’t let me keep you from doing something about it, then.” Kageyama kept typing.

“It’s not as fun alone.”

Kageyama looked up from the laptop and Oikawa could see the gears turn in his head. Oikawa smirked and decided to speed up Kageyama’s decision by licking and then biting his lips suggestively.

Yes, he was getting impatient and he’d do what he can to get Kageyama in the bed, as long as he didn’t have to beg. He would rather work for the attention than beg for it.

“Fuck it.” Kageyama slammed his laptop close and stood up.

“Take your clothes off.” Oikawa instructed him and watched with rapt interest Kageyama pull his shirt off and wiggle his sweats off as he walked over to the bed.

Kageyama was only in his boxers and straddling Oikawa in 10 seconds flat. Oikawa run his hands over Kageyama’s hips to his ass.

“Did you bring condoms?” Kageyama asked as he unbuttoned Oikawa’s shirt, his fingers moving quickly down over his chest.

Oikawa huffed and rolled them over, pinning Kageyama against the bed. “Of course.” he bit down the “duh” and kissed and bit on Kageyama’s neck. He knew he was leaving visible marks, but didn’t care.

And Kageyama didn’t seem to mind either, if the moans that came from him were any indication that he was enjoying the feel of teeth, tongue and lips immensely.

Kageyama’s hands were fisting in Oikawa’s hair, the snap of his hips up against Oikawa’s telling that he wanted more.

They were hurrying through everything this time.

Usually Oikawa would take his time with teasing and touching, making Kageyama breathless. But there has been a frustration building inside Oikawa ever since he saw the photo of half-naked Terushima, maybe even before that, and he needed to work it out.

Now

He grinded with force against Kageyama and the younger man’s hips snapped up again immediately in search of another. Kageyama’s hands had moved to work Oikawa’s pants open.

“You’re even more eager than I am.” Oikawa teased him and moved his hand to wrap it around Kageyama’s erection. 

Kageyama’s sucked in a quick breath at the touch. “Take your pants off.” 

Oikawa deliberated on refusing to do that and just keep teasing Kageyama, but his own demanding erection won the very short debate.

He was glad he came over tonight. The way Kageyama was kissing and demanding him was very promising.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued:  
> They eat cake  
>    
> If you want to come scream at me, here's my [ tumblr ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa bonds with people over cookies, tea and cake

 

Why would I want a cake if I can’t eat it?

 

* * *

 

 

Let me paint a picture of how Suga and Terushima could be found spending a rainy day in Suga’s bedroom.

Terushima was lying on his back, one hand behind his head. His knee was bent up so Suga could gently lean his side on it while he was partly straddling Terushima’s other leg that was lying straight on the bed.

Suga kept absentmindedly playing with the hem of Teruhima’s shirt while he was drawing figures on Suga’s knee.

It couldn’t be more serene in the room with the mellow music playing quietly in the background. It would be impossible for anyone to look happier than the two men were.

Terushima might have spent the night, but that was not for anyone to know. And they might have had sex in the morning when they woke up, but that wasn’t for anyone to know either.

“So, how many buyers did the photo you took of me have?”

Suga looked up to Terushima’s eyes in mild surprise and studied him for a second. Why the sudden interest in knowing when he had explicitly said that he didn’t want to know?

“I thought you didn’t want to know?”

Terushima shrugged. “Just curious.”

Suga smiled at the nonchalance Terushima was displaying. He took the hand that was drawing circles on his knee. He brought it up to his lips, closed his eyes and kissed Terushima’s fingertips.

“I didn’t sell it to anyone,” Suga said softly and brought their hands, clasped together, on Terushima’s stomach.

“Really?”

“I know that you said you were okay with having the photo in the exhibit. But, I never had any intentions of hanging it up to sell it.”

Suga would never sell that photo, to anyone. No matter what he was offered for it. Immortality? No photo. 100 wishes? No photo.  World peace? Uhm... It was a hard call but, no photo. He had made the decision even before he had asked permission to have it in the gallery. It was his and only his.

Suga raised his free arm and placed it on top of Terushima’s bent knee to rest his cheek on it. He smiled softly at Terushima and his thumb that was drawing circles on the back of Suga’s hand that he was holding.

“I hope you’re not disappointed that no one has a photo of you hanging in their living room?” Suga kept speaking softly.

“Not disappointed, no.” Terushima shook his head as he talked. “Actually, a little relieved,” he added after he stopped to think about it.

Terushima sat up and Suga settled to sit cross-legged between his legs. Terushima kept up the physical contact by putting his hands on Suga’s knees.

“But I wouldn’t object if you wanted to hang it in your living room.” He smiled the smile that made Suga say yes, when he had asked Suga out the first time.

It was sweet and fun and a promise of a good time.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What?” Terushima’s smile turned teasing. “Is it just for you to see?” He leaned closer and his hands gently slid up Suga’s thighs to his hips.

It was a familiar move, done many times during their relationship. It still managed to flip Suga’s insides and make shivers run up his spine.

“Yes,” Suga answered seriously, but with a smile on his lips.

“Want me to take my shirt off?”

Suga quickly looked down to Terushima’s chest and then up to his eyes. Terushima smiled wider, he noticed Suga’s wandering eyes.

“No need. You’re fine.”

“Alright, but let me know if you change your mind.”

“Okay,” Suga nodded and leaned back with a content sigh to lie on the bed. He folded his hands on his stomach and looked up to the ceiling.

Terushima’s hands had slid back to Suga’s knees. It was like his hands made a home of Suga’s knees, all the way back on their second date, and always returned to rest there.

Suga brought his eyes back to him. “Want me to take my shirt off?”

“Yes,” Terushima answered seriously, smiling a little.

It made Suga laugh.

Terushima moved to sit between Suga’s crossed legs, straddle his hips, and leaned over to kiss him, gentle hands on Suga’s cheeks, while Suga kept laughing.

“No, don’t stop laughing,” Terushima laughed as Suga started to kiss him back. “I want to kiss your laugh.”

“What a weirdo,” Suga said, wrapping his hands around Terushima and ran his finger down his spine.

“Hmm, at least we match,” Terushima mused and their kisses turned affectionate instead of desiring.

They weren’t in any hurry to get anywhere.

Suga loved these days.

He loved to wake up next to Terushima and he loved that they could spend their whole day in bed, doing absolutely nothing.

 

...

 

His cupboard wasn’t empty, but there was something integral and much needed missing. Kuroo closed it with a sigh and dialed a number on his phone. He opened his fridge while he waited.

“Bo, do you guys have cookies?” He asked as a greeting when Bokuto answered.

“Why are you asking about cookies?”

“Because I want to throw something off the roof. Why the hell do you think?”

“Really? Seems like a waste.”

“I want to eat them, of course. Why are you taking me so seriously? Don’t tell me Akaashi’s drunk again.” Kuroo asked and closed the fridge. There was nothing he desired in there either.

“I don’t know if his drunk, but he’s definitely naked.”

“Then why did you answer your phone?”

“Because you never call and I thought you had something serious to say or talk about.”

“Well, I am always serious about cookies.”

“Go ask if Suga has any.”

“I don’t want to bother Oikawa.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Then make him like you. Set up camp in front of his bedroom door.”

Well, that was as brilliant as it was a stupid idea.

“I really can’t talk to you when you’re distracted by naked Akaashi.”

“You should see what he’s doing right now.”

“Bye!” Kuroo hung up.

He was craving cookies. And knowing Suga, and Suga knowing him, there were always cookies in his kitchen.

It was possible that Oikawa wasn’t home.

Kuroo deliberated for a second more before he stood up.

So what if Oikawa was there? Suga has said that he could come and go as he pleased as long as the door was open.

He decided to forgo shoes and patted down the stairs in his socks.

Kenma hated it when he did that. Kuroo smirked.

Maybe that was the reason why Oikawa didn’t like him, his laziness to put on shoes to walk down one flight of stairs.

Kuroo heard the TV when he opened Suga’s front door.

“Hey,” he called and Oikawa’s head popped up behind the back of the couch.

“Hey,” Oikawa said back and his head disappeared again.

“Do you have any cookies?” Kuroo made a beeline to the kitchen and to the cupboard that was basically a treasure chest filled with sweets and snacks. Suga was such a good provider.

On first glance, Kuroo saw that there were no cookies in the cupboard. That meant that he’d have to go up to his apartment to get his shoes and an umbrella to go to the store in rain. The idea didn’t excite him.

A sound of something rattling drew Kuroo’s attention towards the living room.

Oikawa was holding up a packet of cookies and shaking it a little.

“Can I please, please, pretty please with dozen cherries on top have some?” He begged with puppy eyes.

“Sure,” Oikawa said. “But you have to come get them because I’m not throwing them to you.”

Kuroo made his way to Oikawa and took the packet he was offering.

“I would have caught them,” Kuroo said easily and plopped down on the other couch.

“I’m not taking any risks. What if, in your cookie withdrawn state, you dropped them? They would be in crumbs.”

“Hey, crumbs are cookies too,” Kuroo defended and stuffed a cookie in his mouth.

Oikawa looked at him and he looked back, mirroring the seriousness in Oikawa’s eyes.

Kuroo broke first and Oikawa joined him in laughter.

“Are you always this serious about cookies?” Oikawa asked as they settled down.

“Yep,” Kuroo smirked and ate another cookie. “Is Suga home?” He asked then. It was quiet in the apartment, apart from the TV.

“I think he’s with Terushima.”

“Out?”

“No, in Suga’s room.”  

Kuroo sat up straighter. “Terushima-kun is here?”

“Yeah.” Oikawa looked amused by his excitement.

It has been no secret to anyone in the building that he’s tried to catch Terushima shirtless ever since the gallery. So far, he’s been unsuccessful.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to Oikawa and darted down the hallway towards Suga’s room, the cookies momentarily forgotten on the couch.

Kuroo stopped by Suga’s door to make sure there were no sex sounds. As much as he liked to tease Suga about sex, he would never actually barge in intentionally to catch them in the act.

He opened the door without knocking and mentally sighed in relief. No one was naked. But someone should be at least a little bit. His excitement plummeted.  

Sure, Terushima was obviously fit, and the photo Suga had put up of him pretty much proved it without a doubt. But he still wanted to see it live. Maybe just a little bit to annoy Suga.

The couple was lying on the bed, Suga’s stomach as a pillow under Terushima’s head. They were looking at each other, but turned their heads towards him.

Terushima looked amused. “May we help you?”

Kuroo sighed mentally again when he counted four hands in sight and not in anyone’s pants.

“Kuroo, you have to stop barging in whenever you think you might catch Yuuji shirtless,” Suga said, tired that this kept happening.

Yeah, it wasn’t the first time he had barged in Suga’s room.

“Well, I’ll stop when I see Terushima-kun shirtless.” Kuroo crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Suga rolled his eyes.

“Okay,” Terushima said and sat up.

Kuroo got excited again.

“But only this one time.”

“You don’t have to do it,” Suga told him and his hand reached to touch Terushima’s back, trying to get him to lie back down or to keep in physical contact, Kuroo wasn’t sure. But it was an intimate gesture and Kuroo almost felt bad for interrupting their private moment. Almost.

He was about to see Terushima’s abs for real and nothing was going to stop him now.

He may or may not have a thing for shredded abs. It didn’t matter.

Suga sat up too and leaned back against his hands. His expression hinted at disapproval as he looked at Kuroo.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Terushima grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Otherwise he’ll just keep trying till eternity.”

“Terushima-kun is right, Suga. I’ll just keep trying and bursting in through doors at inappropriate times until I see your man’s sculpted form.”

Suga fell back to lie on his back with a small sigh.

“You get one look, okay? Just a peek.” Terushima told him, his tone serious.

“What? Are you shy all of a sudden?” Kuroo teased.

“I just don’t want to become your fodder material.” Terushima smirked and pulled his shirt up with one hand, just enough for Kuroo to count all the muscles he could see.

Kuroo counted to five in his head before Terushima let go of the shirt and it dropped down to hide his abs again.

“You should never wear a shirt,” Kuroo told him, appreciation of what he just saw in his voice.

Terushima smirked wider and Suga threw his arms up in exasperated motion and let them fall to hide his face.

Kuroo found it adorable how flustered Suga sometimes got.

Terushima looked over his shoulder at Suga and Kuroo noticed the soft look in his eyes.

“Can you leave us alone now?” Terushima asked when he turned back to look at Kuroo.

He pushed the thought of that soft look to the back of his mind.

“Are you going to have sex if I go?”

“Are you going to stay if I say yes?”

“Have fun, kids!” Kuroo turned to go. He got what he came for. It was time to go and leave the couple alone. “Remember to use a condom!” He called right before he closed the door after him.

“Did you finally get what you’ve been thirsting after for weeks?” Oikawa asked when he returned back to the living room.

“Yep, mission accomplished.” Kuroo smirked at him and lied down on the free couch.

“Congratulations.”

“And it’s only been 11 days, not weeks,” he corrected Oikawa seriously.

Oikawa didn’t respond and Kuroo ate two cookies at once. He had no idea what Oikawa was watching, but it seemed interesting.

“Did you know that they’re in love?” He asked quietly, stuffing another cookie into his mouth. He had a real hankering for their sweet deliciousness.

Oikawa was silent and Kuroo had the time to wonder if Oikawa even heard him.

“What makes you ask that?” Oikawa’s voice was even and as serious as Kuroo’s.

“Just noticed the way Teru-kun was looking at Suga.”

“Yeah, Suga looks at him the same way,” Oikawa admitted.

“Yeah.”

They fall quiet then, the sound of TV and rain pattering on the windows filling the living room. They passed the cookies between them. Kuroo could feel a tense current that he knew he wasn’t just making up.

“You used to date Daichi, right?” Oikawa asked out of the blue.

“Sawamura Daichi?” Kuroo made sure.

Oikawa looked at him and nodded.

Kuroo huffed. “Eons ago.”

Oikawa gestured to the cookies and Kuroo gave the packet to him.

“But you already knew that.” 

“I did,” Oikawa admitted. “Is that how you met Suga?”

“Yes and no,” Kuroo said and stopped to eat a cookie. “I met Daichi in college and while we dated, I met Suga a couple of times too. But we didn’t become friends until I moved into this building about four years ago.”

“Hm...”

“Why’d you ask about this?”

“I was just curious.” Oikawa shrugged like he didn’t think it was a big deal. And it wasn’t.

Kuroo observed Oikawa for a moment, studied his profile while he watched the TV. It was weird that Oikawa was still here, when he had meant to stay only for a couple of days. Either he had impossible requirements that none of the apartments he had seen could meet, or he really liked living with Suga. And he had settled in quickly in this apartment and in this building, into the group of friends. He even called it his home. Kuroo knew that Suga wouldn’t mind if Oikawa stayed here. He wondered if the man knew that.

“You could probably move here.” He introduced the new topic from the left field, but he didn’t care.

“What?” Oikawa turned his head to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo wasn’t sure if the man had heard him, or didn’t believe that he had heard right, so Kuroo repeated himself. “You could move here.”

“I haven’t actually even thought about it.” Oikawa turned back to the TV.

Kuroo wasn’t sure but he was still pretty sure that Oikawa just lied.

“I know Suga wouldn’t mind if you moved in.”

“Hm...”

“And neither would anyone else. We like you, we’d be sad to see you go so soon.” Kuroo spoke the truth. He really did feel that way. He had come to call Oikawa his friend and it would be nice if Oikawa thought of him as a friend too. Even if there was tension - a tension that he could already feel lessening, dissipating.

Who knew all it took was to tell him to stay.

“I’ll have to think about it,” Oikawa said and offered the last cookie to Kuroo.

Kuroo took it with a smile.

 

...

 

Oikawa’s group of friends had been steadily growing ever since he took shelter at Suga’s place, so to speak. Not that he didn’t already have friends, but the number of the people he called friends had expanded. If he wasn’t studying, he was hanging with Suga’s friends and neighbors. Or with Kageyama.

That was the reason he hadn’t seen Iwaizumi for weeks. He had been looking forward to seeing his best friend all afternoon.  

But, nowadays when they hung out, Iwaizumi usually came with a package deal.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Thank you, Daichi.” Oikawa smiled charmingly.

Not that Oikawa minded Daichi’s presence. He was actually a nice buffer most of the time.

Like earlier, when Iwaizumi had asked where he had disappeared after Suga’s gallery. Daichi had pacified both sides of the argument when Oikawa’s vague answers had angered and exasperated Iwaizumi.

He might’ve spent the night and following day with Kageyama and Suga had let slip that Oikawa hadn’t come home until the Sunday morning.

Oikawa knew that Suga didn’t mean anything with the slip. He had just mentioned it.

And Iwaizumi had gotten worried to the point that it didn’t blow out until they saw each other, now, three weeks later.

“Sorry about the fighting,” Oikawa apologized half-heartedly as Daichi set a cup on the table in front of him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Daichi waved the apology away.

He was a good man.

It had pained Oikawa in the beginning, until he had come to accept Daichi’s role and know him better.

“But I have to ask. Would it be so bad if Hajime knew you were dating? I mean, instead of being vague and making him worry about you,” Daichi asked and sat down too.

Oikawa turned his serious gaze to Daichi.

“Suga-chan?”

Daichi nodded. “Suga.”

“And you haven’t told Iwa-chan?”

“I’m a big believer in people talking when they’re ready to.”

He was a really good man.

“And Suga only told me by accident. He just asked me if I knew who you were dating because he thought that Hajime knew.”

Oikawa couldn’t hold that against Suga. He had told Daichi about the man Suga was seeing after all.

“I’m going to blame Suga-chan a little, if that’s okay.” Oikawa’s tone didn’t suggest that he was asking Daichi’s permission at all.

“I think he’s already waiting for you to. He said as much when he realized we didn’t know about the guy you’re dating.”

“We’re not exactly dating, per say,” Oikawa admitted, looking down to his cup.

“Whatever it is you’re doing.” Daichi amended. “And I’m not going to tell Hajime. Don’t worry.”

Oikawa wasn’t worried. He knew Daichi well enough to know that he would take this to grave.

“By the way, did you meet Terushima yet?”

Daichi brightened at Oikawa’s question.

“I did. Suga told me everything.”

“Everything?” Oikawa’s eyebrows rose with the question. No, he didn’t believe that Suga told _everything_.

“Everything he was comfortable talking about. I don’t know a thing about the sex they have, so don’t even think about asking if that is something that you’re into.”

Oikawa laughed.

“It’s not and I already know more than I needed to. They spent fair amount of time at home.”

Daichi smiled softly when Oikawa called the apartment his home. Everyone did.

Especially Suga. His smile at the mention of home was always sweet and full of dimples and it brightened his eyes. It was beautiful and Oikawa had no trouble imagining what had drawn Terushima to Suga. Or anyone of the guys Suga had dated.

Speaking of Suga...

“Dai-chan, can I ask you something about Suga-chan?”

“Sure,” Daichi nodded. “What is it?”

Oikawa looked down to his cup. “Is Suga-chan famous?”

“WHAT?” Daichi exclaimed loudly enough that Iwaizumi looked at them in surprise, cellphone glued to his ear. He had answered it a while back and knowing it was Iwaizumi’s mother, Oikawa knew he wouldn’t hang up for another while. The woman was a talker.

“Is Suga a famous photographer?” Oikawa clarified his question. “I mean, he lives with the money he makes from selling his photos, right?”

“Yes,” Daichi nodded. “But he isn’t famous.”

“Well, then... how?”

Daichi took a deep breath, thinking about his answer.

“Well...” He prolonged the word. “He takes really good photos, right?”

Oikawa nodded his agreement.

“And people like those photos. I mean, you saw it at the gallery. Everyone was basically fawning over him. But he doesn’t have that much of a name, like some famous photographers do.”

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Their tea cups were empty now and they could hear Iwaizumi’s muffled words.

Oikawa waited for Daichi to continue. Although he already answered Oikawa’s question.

“You know, I never thought about the reasons why Suga has made it so well with his photos,” Daichi admitted in a contemplative tone. “I mean, I like his photos and I just assumed that everyone else would like them too. And it seems like they do, because he sells a lot. Even old photos he’s taken years ago.”

Oikawa hummed.

“Does he sell every photo he takes or puts up in his gallery?”

“Are you thinking about the photo of Terushima?” Daichi asked.

Oikawa nodded.

“No, he doesn’t sell everything, and he doesn’t exhibit everything. Let me show you something.” Daichi stood up and disappeared into the bedroom.

In a matter of seconds Daichi was back, holding a photo in his hand.

“Here.” He held it towards Oikawa and Oikawa took it.

He held in a gasp of what he saw.

He had never seen his best friend look so happy. The way he was looking at Daichi was something utterly special. Oikawa felt like he could touch the captured moment with his hands. The soft gaze the men seemed to share was tangible in every millimeter of the photo. Oikawa didn’t know anyone could capture a feeling in a black and white photo like this. He’d seen the photos taken of moments in Suga’s exhibit, but they didn’t shimmer with feelings like this one. This photo had even more soul in it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

“I didn’t know Suga had taken a picture of us then, not until he gave us this photo for our one year anniversary present,” Daichi explained with a soft voice.

“When was this taken?” Oikawa asked, forcing his eyes away from the photo.

“Almost two years ago.” Daichi slid the photo from Oikawa’s hand into his own to see it better. “I don’t know why he took a photo of us then. Maybe he saw a moment worth capturing. But whenever I look at it, I feel like there was something special he saw and he wanted to preserve it.”

“Are all the photos Suga-chan takes special to him?”

“I think so,” Daichi answered and put down the photo. “But he never sells the ones that feature his friends or family, or those that have a bigger meaning to him. Like this one.” Daichi tapped at the photo that was lying on the table between them.

“He even takes beautiful photos when the subject of the photo is brutish looking,” Oikawa said, his voice lilting to his usual hint of arrogance when Iwaizumi returned from the bedroom.

“I assume you’re talking about Hajime?” Daichi asked and chuckled.

“What are you talking about me?” Iwaizumi asked as he sat down next to Daichi.

Oikawa chuckled and waved his hand in a dismissive move.

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“We were actually talking about Suga’s photos,” Daichi told him.

Iwaizumi’s eyes moved to the photo on the table and up to Oikawa’s.

Oikawa smiled warmly to him, reassuring that he was okay.

He truly was happy for his best friend.

 

...

 

Oikawa came home in the morning.

He went to see Kageyama after he left Iwaizumi and Daichi and he had spent the night with him again.

He hadn’t told Suga where or who with he spent the nights he was gone. But somehow the man had figured it out. He hadn’t told Iwaizumi either. He was hoping that Iwaizumi wouldn’t figure it out too.  

It wasn’t because he was embarrassed or ashamed. It just was no one’s business if he was having casual sex with someone.

The break up with Iwaizumi definitely did a number on him. He wasn’t sure if he could start a relationship with anyone again, let alone fall in love.

Oikawa took off his shoes when he closed the front door, listening to any noise indicating if Suga was home and what he was doing. He was taking off his coat when he stepped into the living area, and saw the man. 

“Oikawa-san, can I ask you something?”

Suga was sitting by the kitchen island and for some reason Oikawa had a feeling that Suga has been waiting for him to come home.

“Sure,” he answered and walked to stand on the other side of the kitchen island, dropping his jacket on one of the stools.

“How do you feel about having a roommate?”

Oikawa frowned in confusion. Was Suga thinking about taking in someone else too? Or was he asking if it’s okay for Terushima to move in?

Or was Suga trying to tell him that he should find a new place?

There were numerous motivations behind Suga’s question and it was quicker to ask the man about it.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if I was your roommate.”

“Suga-chan, are you asking me to be your roommate?”

Oikawa didn’t dare to hope that Suga was asking that. Yet he still wanted to hear it so badly. He was tired of looking for a perfect apartment, especially since he was already practically living in one. He had lied to Kuroo when he said he hadn’t thought about it. He thought about it almost constantly.

“Yes,” Suga smiled.

_Yes_

“I’m asking you to move in here, officially. You’ve already stayed 6 weeks. Your graduation is getting closer and the apartment hunt is eating your time from studying. And I don’t want to presume anything, but it seems to me that you’ve enjoyed your stay here. You call this place your home. And you can still look for an apartment if you want to.”

“Yes.”

“You can take time to think about it. You don’t have to decide now.”

“No, I mean, yes. I want to stay here, move in officially.”

Oikawa felt like he wanted to dance around the apartment. He felt like floating and jumping from happiness. He wanted to kiss Suga. He felt all the positive feelings at the same time and didn’t know what do with his hands.

Suga’s face lit up with his smile.

“Great,” he beamed. “You realize that this means you’ll have to pay rent too?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Suga nodded and pulled out a contract from his lap. “I just need your signature on this for the landlady.” Suga slid a pen to Oikawa.

Oikawa realized, as he was signing his name, that he hadn’t felt this happy for a while now.

He had a home.

He put down the pen and looked at his name next to Suga’s.

They were roommates now. Officially.

“Welcome to the building Oikawa-san.” Suga smiled at him. “Now, we’re going to celebrate.”

“Why?”

It didn’t matter why, not really, when he was this happy. He didn’t even feel any annoyance with Suga that he had accidentally spilled the beans to Daichi about him and Kageyama.

“Because I made a cake.” Suga stood up to put the contract away.

“You made a cake? Alone?” He teased.

Suga laughed as he went to the refrigerator and took a cake out of it.

The cake was covered with some white cream Oikawa couldn’t recognize, but he was sure it wasn’t whipped cream, and decorated with green and turquoise candy.

“Yes, alone. And I promise it’s edible.” Suga moved to the living room and set the cake on the coffee table.

“We’re eating there?”

“Yes.” Suga sat down on one of the pillows on the floor and held a fork out for Oikawa.

He sat down on the other side of the coffee table and took the offered utensil.

“Suga-chan, are you always this impulsive?” Oikawa asked and took a bite of the delicious looking cake. The sugary taste practically melted on his tongue.

“You have no idea.” Suga smiled widely and took a bite too.

 

...

 

“Now that you’re officially moving in, can I ask you about something that’s been bothering me a little?” Suga asked. Oikawa looked up to him and studied his expression that was still open and kind.

“Depends on what it is that’s been bothering you.”

Suga took a bite of cake and swallowed it before he spoke again. “When Iwaizumi and Daichi asked me if you could stay with me, they mentioned that you couldn’t stay with them because of “history”.” Suga used the air quotes when he spoke. “I was just wondering what the history was.”

“You don’t know?” Oikawa asked with incredulous voice and expression, his eyebrows raised high. How could Suga not know?

Suga shook his head and kept eating the cake.

“Iwa-chan and I used to date,” Oikawa said, carefully watching Suga’s expression. His face opened with honest surprise.

“Oh?”

“How come you didn’t know? It’s not exactly a secret.”

Suga shrugged. “It never came up, I guess.”

“But still...” Oikawa shook his head in disbelief. “We’ve met before, back when Iwa-chan and Daichi started to date. How could you not know?”

“I don’t know.” Suga laughed, clearly as dumbfounded by the knowledge that he wouldn’t know something that definitely was known to almost everyone.

Oikawa laughed with him. “How is it possible?” He asked from the ceiling.

“I don’t know.” Suga kept laughing. “Maybe Daichi and Iwaizumi thought that I already knew, or they thought they had already told me but forgot about it. I don’t know.”

“Jeez...” Oikawa took a deep breath to calm down from the amusement. “Okay, now I’m intrigued.” He put the fork down and crossed his arms and leaned them on the coffee table. “What else don’t you know about me?”

Suga mimicked his position and smiled conspiratorially. “Shall we find out?”

“I’ll answer any question you want to ask as long as I get to ask you too.”

“Deal.” Suga nodded affirmatively. “How long were you and Iwaizumi together?”

“Um...” Oikawa thought back. “About 6 years.”

Suga leaned back from the table and breathed out in amazement. “Wow.”

Oikawa shrugged. It had been his most meaningful relationship to date, actually his only meaningful relationship, but he decided to fake the nonchalance, whether Suga would believe it or not.

“Why’d you break up?”

Oikawa raised his eyebrows from mild surprise. He hadn’t thought that Suga would be this forward.

Suga noticed it. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. Forget I asked,” he hurried to say and stuffed a large piece of cake in his mouth.

“No, it’s fine,” Oikawa assured him. “It actually has to do with my knee.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes then. “You have heard about that right?”

“No.” Suga shook his head, smiling like he found his ignorance funny and sad at the same time.

“Suga...” Oikawa chuckled. “How?! How do you not know anything?”

“I don’t know.” Suga laughed and wailed, tipping his head back to gaze at the ceiling. Oikawa’s eyes focused on the bob of Suga’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

Oikawa slid his eyes back to Suga’s when the man looked at him again. “So, what’s wrong with your knee?”

“Isn’t it my turn to ask by now?” Oikawa smiled with his teasing tone.

“Come on, answer mine first. Then you can ask five questions from me.”

Oikawa sighed. He decided to give the bare minimum of information about his knee. Suga didn’t need to know the full extent of his injury and how badly he had handled it.

“I used to play volleyball,” Oikawa started, but stopped to make sure. “You at least knew that, right?”

“I did,” Suga answered evenly. “Did you hurt your knee because of it?”

“Yeah, kind of, I guess. I was probably training too hard or pushing myself too much and my knee couldn’t take it. I used to wear a brace on it, but obviously it didn’t help, since I blew it out.”

“How?”

“Nuh-uh. Now it’s definitely my turn to ask.”

“Just answer this and we can move on,” Suga urged. “You seem to walk just fine nowadays.”

Oikawa sighed. “Yes, I’m able to walk and run normally. But that’s because I did physiotherapy for almost two years. I had to have surgery on it and I was forbidden from jumping unless I want to make it hurt again.”

“So...?” Suga asked Oikawa to continue.

“So, that ended my budding volleyball career. Can’t jump, can’t play. It was a choice between walking with a cane and having an aching knee for the rest of my life, or giving up volleyball and living a healthy life.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t want to take the latter option.”

“Suga...” Oikawa whined. “You’re cheating at this.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

He looked away from Suga. “No, I didn’t want to quit volleyball. And I didn’t handle it well when I was forced to. So, things happened, I stopped playing, I broke up with Iwa-chan and took a year off from school.” He fought to get the words out of his mouth.

He turned to look at Suga and saw such deep understanding and sympathy in his eyes that he wanted to lean into the man and bask in his warmth and soak in his comfort.

“That sucks, having to give up something you love before you were ready to say goodbye to it.”

Oikawa wasn’t sure whether Suga meant volleyball or Iwaizumi, but he didn’t want to get into any more specifics. Suga didn’t need to know that he had only given up on volleyball before he was ready to. Not when he was looking at Oikawa like that.

“Okay, this is depressing.” Oikawa straightened his back. “It’s my turn to ask.”

Suga smiled, “Go for it.”

“How old were you when you had sex for the first time?”

Oikawa really wanted to veer away from the depressing subject matter they had landed in and decided to go with teasing Suga a bit. Plus, he was sure that this was possibly the only way he could ask this from Suga and get an answer. He had agreed to answer any question just like Oikawa.

“Wow, we’re really diving into this, aren’t we?” Suga asked and leaned back in surprise.

“Come on, how old?”

Suga dropped his eyes to the half-eaten cake sitting on the table between them.

“I was 22,” he answered to the cake and took a bite with his fork of it.

“Are you kidding?” Oikawa asked with poorly hidden incredulity in his voice.

Suga looked up to him defiantly. “No. Is there something wrong with it?”

“No, nothing’s wrong with it,” Oikawa said and a soft smile spread on his lips. “I was just surprised.”

Suga’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

“I guess I just wasn’t expecting your answer,” Oikawa said and took a bite of the cake too. At this rate they would eat the whole thing in one sitting.

Suga’s eyes returned to their default set and his face relaxed. “I presume you were younger since you and Iwaizumi were together since you were kids.”

“We started dating during our second year of high school,” Oikawa corrected him. “And I was  18, just started at the university.”

Suga nodded along with Oikawa’s words.

“So, who was it with?” Oikawa propped his chin on his hand.

Suga dropped his eyes again. “Akaashi.”

Oikawa was thoroughly taken aback. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“What?” Suga took a defending tone.

“Nothing.” Oikawa shook his head. He didn’t know what to think. If he even needed to think further into this. He schooled the surprise away from his face.

“Okay,” Oikawa placed his hands on the table palms down and reaching towards Suga. “I have one more question and then we can move on from this.”

“Fine.” Suga crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What is it?”

“Now, I know you don’t really like to talk about it, but...” Oikawa stopped to build up the anticipation. Suga bit his lip as he waited.

“This is something that’s been bothering me.”

Suga nodded, prompting for Oikawa to continue.

“Why did you and Akaashi break up?”

“Apparently we were too beautiful together and Daichi thought we had to be stopped.” Suga’s smile and voice hinted at a joke and Oikawa huffed with laugh.

“But the real reason was that Akaashi told me he was in love with someone else.” Suga turned plaintive.

“Do you think it was with Bokuto?” Oikawa dared to ask. Suga was looking a little uncomfortable but he wasn’t dismissing the direction of their conversation and Oikawa thought it’d be okay to ask.

“Yes.” Suga looked straight into Oikawa’s eyes. “But that realization didn’t come until Bokuto asked me if he could ask Akaashi out and Akaashi asking would it be weird for me if he started dating Bokuto.”

“Hm...” Oikawa thought of it.

“Okay, my turn.” Suga leaned on the coffee table again and Oikawa nodded.

“What are your parents like?”

“We don’t talk,” Oikawa answered straight away. “We haven’t since I came out to them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine.” Oikawa flipped his hand in a dismissive motion. “Their loss, right?” He grinned widely.

“Definitely,” Suga nodded with a smile. “Do you have any other family?”

“Brother and sister.”

“Do you keep in touch with them?”

“Yes,” Oikawa smiled a little. “They’re a bit older than me so they really looked after me since I moved to Tokyo.”

“That’s good.” Suga smiled honestly, looking a little relieved, the tightness that had appeared in his eyes when Oikawa told about his parents, now gone.

“What about your family?”

“My dad died when I was 15. But I still have my mom.”

“Are you close?”

“Embarrassingly so.”

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s childish pout.

“You never mention her.”

“Well, we’re not joined at the hip.”

Oikawa chuckled again.

“But she was really supportive when I told her I wanted to focus on photography instead of finding a job after I graduated from university.”

“What did you study?”

“Sociology,” Suga answered. “That’s actually how I met Akaashi.”

Oikawa studied the faraway look in Suga’s eyes as he leaned his chin on his hand.

“What did you want to do after graduation? Why sociology?”

“Actually, I didn’t have any plans past graduation, which drove my professors and the guidance counselor nuts. And I had already done pretty well with photos when I graduated so I thought that I’d continue with that.”

“And you pay for your living with the money you make from the photos?”

“Yes.”

“Either you sell a lot or they’re pricey as hell,” Oikawa deadpanned.

Suga chuckled. “I accept what the buyer is ready to pay or they think the photo is worth. I don’t put up a price next to my photos.”

“Really?”

“Mm,” Suga nodded. “Some people are really generous and it makes up the difference from the ones who aren’t.”

Oikawa found that both humbling and admirable. And to think that people saw so much worth in Suga’s photos that they were ready to pay heaps of money for them.

“What about you? How do you pay for your life? You don’t work.”

“Inheritance.”

“From?”

“My grandfather. I was 15 when I got it but I wasn’t allowed access to it until I was 18 and back then it became a blessing.”

“It’s funny how universe works like that sometimes,” Suga mused and Oikawa had to agree with him.

“Now back to happier and less serious subjects,” Oikawa declared with zeal.

“You’re not going to ask me about sex again, are you?” Suga looked wary.

Oikawa thought it better to let that subject be for now. He didn’t want Suga to pull the plug on their bonding hour. “Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Rubber Penis,” came Suga’s instant answer and Oikawa let out a burst of laughter.

“Sorry, I meant River Phoenix.”

Oikawa kept laughing. “Did you just say rubber penis?” He asked and threw his head back, his laughter ringing inside the living room.

“I meant River Phoenix.”

“That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard for a while.” Oikawa wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and smiled with glee. He was glad to see that Suga wasn’t annoyed with Oikawa’s laughing, but was smiling as well. “You know he’s dead, right?”

“Doesn’t mean that he wasn’t beautiful inside and out.”

Oikawa didn’t know really know anything about River Phoenix, but he decided to believe Suga.

“Who’s your celebrity crush?” Suga asked then.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa said honestly but Suga narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I have one." 

“Are you just embarrassed to say it out loud?”

“No,” Oikawa shook his head. He really didn’t have one. “It’s your turn to ask.”

“Hmm...” Suga thought for a moment. “Okay,” Suga said and took an attentive pose. Oikawa leaned his crossed arms on the coffee table.

“Who shot first, Han Solo or Greedo?”

 

...

 

The cake Suga had made had been devoured in three hours and the living room was bathing in afternoon sun. They were lazing on the living room floor, half sitting up and leaning to the furniture. Oikawa absently wondered how come none of their (yes, _their)_ neighbors hadn’t waltzed in unannounced yet.

“Oikawa-san,” Suga said and Oikawa turned his head to look at him. “The guy that you’re seeing...”

Oikawa cleared the surprise from his face. Of course Suga would realize that was the reason behind the nights he had spent away from the apartment. And Daichi had confirmed as much as well.

“I want you to know that it’s okay for you to bring him to the apartment.”

Oikawa knew this.

“I mean, I bring Yuuji here all the time, so it’s only fair.”

“It’s not that serious between me and him,” Oikawa said and turned his head away again. “Just casual.”

“Still, it’s okay for you to bring him around.” Suga touched Oikawa’s arm. “You don’t have to hide him away.”

Oikawa looked at the gentle hand on his arm and then up to Suga’s face.

Suga looked at him sincerely and Oikawa believed him. He still didn’t think that he’d bring Kageyama to the apartment, though. It was better that their casual sex –relationship only existed inside Kageyama’s apartment.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told Suga.

Suga nodded with a smile and drew his hand from Oikawa’s arm. The fleeting move of Suga’s fingers caused a shiver travel through Oikawa and down the other arm all the way to his fingertips.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I'm a bit of a Star Wars nerd and that'll keep coming up in the future chapters too.  
> And don't get mad at me about the River Phoenix - Rubber Penis thing. He actually called himself that when he got really famous, as a joke. 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> "Suga-chan... Can I have a hug?" + it's someone's birthday "I will pee on the things you eat"
> 
>  
> 
> [ tumblr ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com/)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a little detour

How long can this love hold its breath?

 

* * *

 

 

“Can I ask something?”

Oikawa stopped kissing Kageyama’s neck.

“Now?”

“Yeah. How come we’re always here?”

Oikawa rose to lean on his hands to look at Kageyama.

“In what sense do you mean “here”?”

“In my apartment.” Kageyama looked straight into Oikawa’s eyes, waiting for an answer.

Oikawa didn’t have one to give.

“You have a new apartment now, right?”

“Sort of.”

“Why are we never there?”

The question was innocent and curious, but Oikawa wasn’t above teasing, just to deflect and avoid answering it.

A wicked grin spread on his face. “You just want to see where I live.”

“Well, yeah,” Kageyama shrugged.

Oikawa returned to kissing Kageyama’s neck and down his chest.

He had thought about bringing Kageyama to the apartment. He had also thought himself out of doing it.

It would raise questions and implications of what he and Kageyama were to each other. Oikawa didn’t think of them as boyfriends. They didn’t even spend any time together outside of Kageyama’s apartment. It was much simpler to just have sex every now and then. And when it was with Kageyama, there was no need for games. It was what it was and it was enough.

At least to Oikawa.

Kageyama asking why they only stayed at his apartment had potentially opened a door to a conversation that Oikawa didn’t want to have. But maybe Kageyama did?

“Maybe someday,” Oikawa said and licked Kageyama’s nipple, eliciting a mix of a moan and a whimper from the man.

Kageyama was so responsive to everything he did. Oikawa thoroughly enjoyed it.

It wouldn’t be that bad to bring Kageyama over to his apartment, would it? Oikawa knew that Suga wouldn’t mind. He had said as much a week ago.

Oikawa thought back to the way Suga had looked genuine and just so “Suga”. The flashback of the shivers Suga’s hand had given him, when he had removed it from Oikawa’s arm, came and he shuddered a little again.

There was another reason too, why Oikawa didn’t rush to the chance of bringing Kageyama anywhere near his apartment.

He didn’t want Suga and Kageyama to meet.

Kageyama was now practically writhing under Oikawa’s touches and kisses, whimpering for more. Oikawa decided to keep teasing.

He didn’t want Kageyama to meet the sweet man who was his roommate and get jealous. It would just overcomplicate things.

He didn’t want Suga to meet the man he was having casual sex with. Even though Suga already kind of knew about it, he didn’t want Suga to think of him with someone.

No, that came out wrong.

Oikawa curled his fingers and Kageyama shouted in the sudden pleasure.

He didn’t want Suga to think of him having sex with someone else.

“Fuck me already!” Kageyama demanded, breathless, snapping Oikawa from his thoughts.

How was it so easy for Oikawa to think about Suga when he was in a bed with another man? His face had come to his mind out of nowhere.

“Please, I need more.”

Oikawa looked up to Kageyama and studied his pleading expression. Blue eyes were looking at him, under a fringe of black hair, not hazel ones, in midst of light grey hair. There was no beauty mark under the left eye.

It wasn’t Suga.

Oikawa slid his fingers from Kageyama and reached for a condom.

And why would it be Suga? Why should it?

 

...

 

An orgasm and a post-orgasm cuddle and then home.

Yeah, that had become Oikawa’s unofficial routine these past weeks.

He pondered how that had happened when he walked home. It had begun with so little. They had begun to see each other about once every two weeks, and once a week. Now it seemed that Oikawa needed to see Kageyama every second day. He wasn’t sure why.

Okay, he didn’t want to think too hard on why, because he had inkling and he wouldn’t like whatever conclusion he’d come to. He didn’t want to realize he was right. Not on this.

He didn’t want to realize that he might be developing affectionate feelings. He didn’t need those. They meant trouble.

Oikawa saw Kuroo coming down the stairs as he entered the building.

“Kuroo,” he nodded to the man.

“You might not want to go home.” Kuroo warned with a smirk. That stopped Oikawa, one foot on the bottom stair.

“Why?”

“The door’s locked.” Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“They’re in Suga’s room anyway.” Oikawa waved his hand dismissively. “I’m just going to crash in my room.”

Kuroo frowned. The sudden change in his expression unmissable “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Alright,” Kuroo accepted, but kept eyeing him suspiciously.

It was true, he was tired. And it was because he spent most of his nights either studying or with Kageyama. He needed a break. Iwaizumi was really worrying about it.

“I’ll see you later,” Oikawa said as a goodbye and continued up the stairs.

He felt Kuroo’s eyes on him until he turned to another set of stairs and two seconds later he heard the building’s door opening and closing.

Oikawa searched for his keys from his bag, looking at the door across from theirs. Kenma and Hinata’s door.

There was a sign on it reading, “Beware Ewok crossing”, with a little Ewok on it. A housewarming gift from Kuroo, Suga had told Oikawa when he asked about it.

He should ask Kuroo where he had found the sign. Oikawa loved it. He wanted one, maybe with a text that said “This isn’t the apartment you’re looking for”.

He made a mental note of it when he found his keys and opened the door.

He had honestly hoped that Suga and Terushima would be in Suga’s room and seeing them in the living room instead was a bit of a letdown.

The two men were in various states of undress, lying on the floor and laughing and giggling uncontrollably. Oikawa couldn’t even venture a guess of what was going on.

He closed the front door, eyeing them.

“Um, were you two about to have sex?” He asked, alerting the two of his presence. He tried to find a polite way to ask them to move into Suga’s room.

Suga and Terushima turned their heads to look at Oikawa, their bodies still shaking a little with their giggles.

“What’s going on?”

The men kept laughing on the floor and Oikawa didn’t understand what was so funny. And neither of them could explain. Suga tried to, but his giggles made it impossible.

Oikawa looked between the two for a second or two, trying for the final time understand what was going on, but giving up.

He should leave them be. They looked happy. And if you were going to have sex with somebody, why not have it with someone who could make you laugh.

Oikawa was happy for them. And jealous.

He wished he had that.  

Not with Kageyama, maybe. But in general, he wanted someone he could know thoroughly and not feel the need to dismiss some aspect of that person, an annoying habit or an unattractive personality trait. He wanted someone he could be himself with, not hide away anything. Someone who would accept him just as he is, someone he could invent alien languages with and laugh.

He wished for it, even though that would bring in the feared feelings.

Terushima looked like he couldn’t breathe anymore. Suga was kicking the floor along with his giggles.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to whatever it is that you’re doing.”

Suga waved to Oikawa with a smile too beautiful for anyone to possess. A funny shudder went through Oikawa at the sight of the smile. He remembered the thought he had had of Suga earlier that day when he had been with Kageyama.

Oikawa shook his head, ridding the image of Suga smiling from his mind, as he started to walk towards his room. But he couldn’t block out the sounds and he was biting his lip so he wouldn’t laugh at the sounds Terushima was making. He had never heard a seal laugh, but he was sure that’s what Terushima sounded like.

Yeah, it was time to let them be.

Oikawa went to his room, and closed his door to shut out the sounds of laughing. A small happy smile that had grown on his lips when he had observed Suga with Terushima was still there.

And he was extremely relived that he didn’t hear anything but muffled laughter coming from the living room when he strained his ears.

He was relieved that he didn’t need to dig through his boxes for his headphones to block out Suga and Terushima having sex in the living room.

 

...

 

Oikawa was a dead man walking the next day, he was so tired. He had stayed up late studying, ignoring Iwaizumi’s texts to take a break. Suga and Terushima had been in the apartment and he didn’t want to intrude on them. He didn’t want to see Suga with Terushima and be reminded of how easy it had been for Oikawa to think about Suga when he himself was about to have sex. So he had stayed in his room, fallen asleep by his desk and woken up there three hours later to his alarm.

He tried to stifle a particularly wide yawn into his sleeve when he opened the front door.  Normally Oikawa would’ve been delighted to see Kenma and Hinata sitting on their couch, but today he was too tired for socializing.

Hinata was sitting on the back of the couch, facing the TV, behind Kenma, who was sitting between Hinata’s legs. The two looked so comfortable like that, Kenma focused on the handheld console he was playing while Hinata was braiding a part of his boyfriend’s hair.

Suga was nowhere in sight, but Oikawa knew he was home. Kenma and Hinata never spent time together like this in the apartment when Suga wasn’t there. And they wouldn’t look so comfortable doing couple-y things if anyone else besides Suga was here.

“Oikawa-san,” Hinata smiled at him.

Kenma looked up from his console and nodded at him.

“Hey guys,” he greeted back when he passed by them. “Where’s Suga-chan?”

“He got a call,” Hinata answered. “I think he’s in his room.”

“Okay, thanks,” Oikawa said and dragged his feet to his room.

He dropped his bag on the floor next to his bed and fell on the bed face first. It had been a long Friday and he was bone-tired and yet there was so much to do. He heaved a sigh against his pillow. He wasn’t sure what to start with. There still were some boxes in his room that he and Suga had brought in after his move into the apartment had become “official”. He could unpack those.  Or he could start on his dissertation, he should figure out what he wanted to do with it. There was also an essay to write, a professor to email. And he should call back to his sister.

A soft knock came from the door and Oikawa sat up on the bed.

“Come in.”

Suga opened the door and stepped halfway in, a hand on the doorhandle. All thoughts about Suga that he had had just two night ago when he had been with Kageyama were dispelled at the sight of his kind smile.

“Hey,” Suga spoke in a soft voice. He studied Oikawa for a moment before he spoke again. “Long day?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Oikawa admitted.

“We’re going to watch Indiana Jones. Do you want to join us?”

The gentle way Suga spoke eased some of Oikawa’s tense tiredness. He wanted a hug from Suga. He didn’t know where the thought came from and he didn’t care. He wanted the man’s warmth and comfort.

“No, I can’t. I have an essay to write and I don’t want to spend the whole weekend on it,” Oikawa lied, although he meant the words for himself too.

“Okay,” Suga nodded and started to close the door.

“Suga-chan...” Oikawa stood up and the man turned to look at him.

Oikawa thought over his request one, two, three times, before he voiced it.

“Can I have a hug?” He asked and he winced a little at how vulnerable he sounded.

But Suga didn’t seem to care about that. The corners of his eyes crinkled a little with his smile and he took three steps into the room and hugged Oikawa without any hesitation.

The hug was tight and warm and Oikawa pressed his face into Suga’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against it.

“The offer stands whenever you feel like joining us,” Suga said and held Oikawa even tighter. It seemed that he wasn’t going to let go until Oikawa did.

He really needed this.

“Thanks,” he mumbled again and counted three deep breaths before he let go off Suga.

Suga smiled at him encouragingly and Oikawa felt a little better.

“We’ll try to keep it down. Don’t overwork yourself,” Suga said and walked out of the room, taking the same three steps he had taken to stand next to Oikawa.

Oikawa fell back to sit on his bed.

He felt a little better.

 

...

 

Three hours later Oikawa emerged from his bedroom, hair a little rumbled, and dressed in his pajama pants and a loose fitting long-sleeved t-shirt. Suga suspected that he hadn’t been studying.

“How’s studying going?”

“My nap was excellent, thank you for asking.” Oikawa grinned and sat down next to him on the couch.

“Is this already the second one?” He asked and hugged a pillow to his chest, crossing his legs on the couch.

“Yep,” Hinata answered from his spot behind Kenma.

They had started the evening with Hinata sitting on the back of the couch and Kenma between his legs. By the end of the first movie, they had moved and now Hinata was sitting on the couch, his toes just reaching the coffee table, and Kenma sideways, his legs thrown over Hinata’s.

“The third one is the best,” Nishinoya commented and stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He was filling up the rest of the couch Hinata and Kenma were sitting on.

“And the fourth is the worst,” Tanaka added. He was sitting on the armchair Oikawa had brought when he moved in.

It had become Kuroo’s favorite spot instantly. He had declared it during Kenma’s birthday party.

Oh, that night had been messier than usual.

If it had been Bokuto’s or Kuroo’s birthday party, Suga would’ve understood. Or even Nishinoya’s and his party only a week before Kenma’s had been particularly rowdy.

As Suga thought back, Oikawa leaned his shoulder against Suga’s and Suga let him. The weight of Oikawa leaning against him was different and the angle a little off since he was taller, but Suga didn’t mind.

 

...

 

_Two weeks earlier_

 

“Suga, do you have a pie pan?” Terushima asked.

They were in Suga’s kitchen, about to make an apple pie for Kenma. They had been “about to make an apple pie” for some time now, they kept pausing what they were doing to kiss. The kitchen was small; they were constantly touching each other, inadvertently and on purpose.

“Of course. Do you think this my first time baking a pie?” Suga asked and pointed towards a cupboard.

Terushima chuckled as an answer and took a pie pan from the cupboard Suga had pointed to.

“Now, do you realize I’m entrusting you with my super-secret-extra-delicious-watering-your-mouth –apple pie recipe?”

“Yes. Do you realize it was your idea because for some reason you wanted to bake in my apartment?”

Terushima smiled and set the pan next to Suga. “Yes.” He kissed Suga. “And I take full responsibility for killing you if you reveal the recipe to anyone.” He smiled with his joke.

“Great, thank you.”

“And that way no one else will get to have you.” He kissed Suga again, longer and sweeter. “Or taste you.” He licked into Suga’s mouth.

Suga laughed. Seriously, this was going nowhere. He needed to do something.

“Okay, what can I do to help?” Suga stepped away from him.

Terushima turned away for a second and put apples next to the pie pan, on the cutting board. “You can cut the apples.” He smiled and moved around Suga to a bowl.

“You’re giving me the easiest job?” Suga asked, turning to take a knife from a drawer. “This is child’s play.”

“Tell me that when you’ve managed to cut them without cutting your fingers in the process.”

“This is not my first time making an apple pie.”

“I’m going to take that with a grain of salt because I haven’t seen you bake anything before and I know that you’re not a professional like me,” Terushima said and dumbed a liberal amount of flour in the bowl, half of it landing on the counter.

Suga let out a sputtered in laughter, the flour that pillowed in the air slowly descending around them.

“Are you sure you’re a professional?” He tried not to laugh at Terushima’s mortified expression of what he just did. “Or is that how all the professionals make an apple pie? Dumbing half the bag of flour on the counter? Why, I didn’t know I’ve been doing it wrong my whole life. I always thought you had to pour in the right amount straight into the bowl, not swipe it in from the counter.”

“Will you shut up?” Terushima tried to stifle his chuckles too. “I got distracted, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure.” Suga waved away Terushima’s explanation. “I definitely can’t let you anywhere near the knives now. What if you get distracted and cut off your finger? I don’t think Kenma would like his pie with an extra flavor of a missing digit,” he continued jovially, Terushima struggling to keep in his chuckling.

He retaliated Suga’s teasing by throwing a handful of flour at him. Suga’s shirt was now dusted with flour. Terushima pressed his lip together tight, stifling his laughter.

“Why thank you.” Suga looked down at himself. Terushima burst in laughter.

“You’re distracting me,” Terushima accused with an amused tone. He really didn’t seem like he minded it. “Seriously. Someone should outlaw those pants you’re wearing.”

“Do you want me to take them off?” Suga put down the knife in precaution.

“Yes.” Terushima was serious and slipped his index finger under the waistband of Suga’s jeans, smearing the flour on his hand even more on Suga’. “Why can’t we be without pants every day?”

Suga laughed.

“Because the society frowns on people who walk around the city without their pants.” He wrapped his arms around Terushima’s waist and pressed him against the counter.

Terushima slid his hands around Suga’s back. “Then it’s high time that we evolve as a society beyond these superficial rules that dictate we must wear pants all the time and hinder our true selves.”

Terushima kissed Suga, his hands going excruciatingly slowly down on Suga’s back to his ass, his mouth simultaneously moving from Suga’s mouth to his jaw and to his ear. 

“I think you should start the ball rolling by taking your pants off,” he whispered in Suga’s ear.

Suga felt shivers go down his spine, Terushima’s hands and mouth flipping his insides upside down.

“As much as I’d like to humor you and take them off, I feel a little dirty about baking a pie for Kenma dressed only in my boxers.”

Terushima had a thoughtful expression and he squeezed Suga’s ass. “You’re right,” he smiled.

Suga bit his lip. Their baking sessions was dangerously heading towards pants-less activities if they kept up with this.

“It does feel a little wrong to make anything for Kenma without pants,” Terushima agreed and gave Suga a kiss.

Oikawa came home then, and to their “rescue” so they didn’t somehow end up without their pants in the kitchen. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Oikawa asked when he noticed them. He looked amused, his lips in a smirk and one eyebrow cocked.

“No,” Suga denied easily.

“There are handprints on your ass,” Oikawa informed as he passed the kitchen and promptly left them alone, going to his own room.

Suga stepped and turned away from Terushima when Oikawa’s door closed. There was no point in continuing what they were in the middle of when Oikawa was home, and Suga grabbed the knife again to finish cutting the apples.

Terushima followed his lead and followed Suga were their baking had been left unfinished. At least they could finish the pie, even if they couldn’t finish anything else.

Terushima swiped his hand over Suga’s ass, dusting off the flour there.

Suga looked over his shoulder at him and was pleased to see a soft smile of his lips. He was glad that Terushima didn’t look to disappointed that they had been interrupted just now.

“I think you got it all now.” Suga referred to the flour that had been smeared on the back of his jeans.

“Yeah, but I kind of like your ass.” Terushima kept dusting the nonexistent flour of Suga’s ass.

Suga laughed.

“Don’t laugh. It’s true.” Terushima made a show of looking at Suga’s ass again and Suga smacked his arm.

“I don’t think the little amount of flour on my ass matters when it’s everywhere.”

“That’s true,” Terushima agreed and looked around them in the kitchen.

There was flour everywhere, on every surface, on the cupboards, on their clothes, covering parts of the floor. That was going to be a pain to clean up.

“I’m sorry that we couldn’t finish what we started,” Suga said sincerely.

Terushima looked up to his eyes from his ass that he was still swiping.

“Don’t be,” he smiled wider, his eyes crinkling. “Now there’s something to look forward to,” he added with a wicked smile and kissed Suga’s cheek, hands settling on his waist for a second, before he pulled away and moved to the bowl.

...

They managed to finish the pie without further incidents of getting distracted and they sat down to drink tea while they waited for the pie to bake in the oven. They were sitting close enough for Suga to dangle one of his legs over Terushima’s.

Terushima’s phone beeped with a message and he read it with a small frown on his brow.

“Is something wrong?” Suga asked and gently brushed flour off of Terushima’s cheek with his fingertips.

“Hm?” Terushima looked up from the phone. He seemed to remember where he was with a delay. “No,” he flashed an assuring smile.

He pocketed the phone without answering the message.

Suga didn’t believe him. Terushima rarely frowned and only when something truly bothered or worried him.

But he didn’t pry further into it.

He trusted Terushima and that he would tell if it was something he could share.

...

“Do you still have all your fingers?” Suga asked.

The pie was done and ready for the party later that night, waiting to be eaten by Kenma.

Terushima was getting ready to leave.

“Suga, the horse is dead,” he said with a jaded tone, but with an affectionate smile. “You beat it to death with a spatula. It was slow and painful. You can move on now.”

Suga chuckled. “Beaten to death with a spatula? That does sound slow and painful.”

Terushima chuckled too and leaned closer to Suga, pulling him to meet in a kiss.

“You better come back with all your fingers.” Suga reminded Terushima when the man liberated his lips in favor of kissing along his neck.

Terushima chuckled and leaned back a little to look at Suga. He brushed Suga’s hair from his forehead. “With all my fingers,” he promised softly and gave a last little kiss on Suga’s lips.

“Tell Kenma happy birthday for me.”

“I will,” Suga nodded. He put his hands on Terushima’s cheeks and kissed him once more.

Terushima’s hand was already on the door handle, the other lingering on Suga’s waist, a torn look in his eyes.

Suga didn’t want him to go.

“Bye,” he withheld the sigh and Terushima flashed a little smile.

And with that he left.

Suga slumped on the nearest couch, struggling with his wildly beating heart that was threatening to burst through his chest to be held in Terushima’s loving hands.

Suga wanted to tell him so bad, but something always kept his tongue.

Right now would’ve been the perfect time to tell him, if Terushima didn’t need to go, or if he had already told him before, way back when he realized he was in love.

Suga closed his eyes and pressed his hand against his chest, trying to calm his heart down.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I love you,” he whispered to the empty living room, thinking of Terushima.

He listened to the empty and quiet living room, the hums inside and the sounds of traffic from outside. The concept of time passing stopped to exist in that moment, in that living room, as Suga sank to his thoughts, his heartbeat evening out and slowing down to a steady rhythm.

“Are you alright?”

Suga jumped a little when he heard Oikawa’s voice and he registered the worry in it. He hadn’t heard Oikawa come from his room.

“Just thinking,” Suga answered and he could once again feel the time pass.

“Thinking about what?” Oikawa asked and he came into Suga’s field of vision. Suga looked at him as he sat down on the coffee table.

“Ducks.”

A bemused smile spread on Oikawa’s lips and Suga looked away. Oikawa was too handsome with that smile. With any smile, really.

“Ducks?”

“Yes, ducks,” Suga said, studying the ceiling.

“Alright," Oikawa accepted his answer after a minute and stood up. The whole time Suga could feel Oikawa study him.

 “Are you leaving?” Suga prodded Oikawa’s leg with his toe when he walked past him.

“Yeah, I have a thing.”

Suga could guess what, or who, this “thing” was, but Oikawa probably had omitted that information on purpose and Suga didn’t want to pry into it. He had already screwed up on that front when he had asked Daichi about it, when Daichi didn’t even know about it.

“Are you coming to the party later?”

“Yeah, of course.” Oikawa grinned. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Suga smiled in response. The man had seemed happier ever since he had officially moved in, a little less tense. It was nice, it was pleasant and it gave Suga a cozy feel when he thought about Oikawa as his roommate.

“Oikawa, are you happy?” Suga asked, sitting up to see him.

Oikawa straightened up from tying his shoes and looked back with a smile. “I am.”

“Good,” Suga nodded and waved to him when he left.

It was good that Oikawa was happy, very good.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised a birthday for this chapter, but I decided to take a little detour before that. The reasons for that decision though, remain unknown to this day. 
> 
> Sorry for the heaviness of other pairings but OiSuga, but we'll get there, have no fear. Everything has a purpose for the future chapters. 
> 
> to be continued:  
> the birthday party  
> (feel free to guess who gets older)
> 
>  
> 
> [ I'm never here, why do I keep going through the trouble off typing this out ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com/)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's party!

 

_Still two weeks earlier_

 

“Suga, do you think I should start wearing this hat on a regular basis?” Tanaka asked.

He had a bright orange party hat on his head and he tilted it a little to the side, styling it, when Suga looked up to it.

“Definitely,” Suga nodded, his eyes steady on Tanaka’s.

Tanaka grinned with a pleased expression and turned to blow more streamers over the coffee table.

There were already streamers on every surface in Suga’s apartment, giving it a funhouse –vibe with all the different vibrant colors. They weren’t only covering the tables and shelves, but also hanging from the ceiling lamps.

It was colorful and over the top, especially since it was for Kenma.

“Suga, I’m here and because you love me, I’m bringing alcohol,” Nishinoya shouted when he came in.

“Excellent,” Akaashi stated calmly and went to help Nishinoya.

Suga rolled his eyes.

“You can set them on the counter,” he told them, putting different snacks in bowls.

“Suga, can I hook up my ultimate-mega-awesome-super-party-mix?” Bokuto asked.

“You can hook it up, but you can’t put it on yet.”

“Why?!” Bokuto sounded truly grieved by this.

“Because Kenma can’t know we’re throwing him a party until we surprise him,” Akaashi told him, opening a wine bottle.

Asahi hurried to take it away from him.

“Why?” Akaashi’s voice was more quiet than Bokuto’s but not less grieved.

“No alcohol until everyone is here,” Asahi told him and put the bottle back on the counter.

“Babe, come help me.” Bokuto beckoned Akaashi over.

Suga noticed the look Akaashi threw towards the bottle, but went to Bokuto, wrapping his arm around the grey-haired man’s waist.

“By the way,” Nishinoya turned towards Suga. “When is Kenma coming?”

Suga tore his eyes from Akaashi and Bokuto.

“Hinata said he’d text when they were heading here.”

“Hey!”

Everyone turned towards Bokuto, who was holding his butt. Akaashi was looking mildly amused. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

“I thought I heard an owl hoot,” Kuroo said as he sauntered in, carrying a big box wrapped in red gift paper in his arms. The tall man disappeared behind it as he held it in his hands. Suga wondered how it had fit in through the door. Kuroo dropped it on the floor by the couch and slapped Bokuto on the back.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto shouted, getting excited. “What’s in the box?”

Suga hoped it wasn’t anything fragile. Kuroo had handled it truly carelessly.

“It’s Kenma’s present,” Kuroo smirked.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Tanaka examined it with pursed lips. The box reached Tanaka’s chest when he stood next to it. Nishinoya could easily fit inside it if he crouched a little. Suga secretly wanted to stuff Nishinoya in it just to see it.

“You’ll see,” Kuroo kept smirking.

“It’s just an empty box with a birthday card in it, isn’t it?” Akaashi asked.

Kuroo turned to look at him. “There’s no card.”

“Can we put Nishinoya in it?” Tanaka asked, looking excitedly at Kuroo and the box and at Nishinoya.

“And undo the trouble I went to when I wrapped it?” Kuroo looked affronted.

Tanaka’s face fell.

“We can do it after Kenma’s opened it,” Kuroo smirked.

Tanaka crowed excitedly, throwing his hands in the air. Nishinoya looked just as happy about the idea.

“Suga,” Asahi asked next to him.

They had stayed in the kitchen setting up the edibles, when everyone else had congregated to the living room to ooh and aah at the big gift.

“Where’s Oikawa?”

Suga didn’t know but he could guess.

“I don’t know,” Suga answered truthfully. He didn’t know and he didn’t want to venture into guessing with Asahi. Oikawa had his secrets and he was entitled to keep them as long as he wanted to. Even if Suga was fairly sure of where the man was.

“Suga!” Kuroo’s shout drew his attention. “Where did this chair come from?”

“It’s Oikawa’s.”

The armchair Kuroo was pointing to was soft blue, and comfortable as hell. Sitting in it was like sinking to an embrace from a cloud. Suga had curled up in it once and fallen asleep. He secretly loved it and wanted to stay at home all hours just so he didn’t have to get up from it.

Kuroo sat in it with flourish and threw his legs on the coffee table, streamers flying off with the sudden gust of wind. He was tall enough to reach there, so was Oikawa. Suga fell a little short though. He could reach the table with his tiptoes.

“Oh, that’s the stuff.” Kuroo closed his eyes in bliss. “Do you think Oikawa would mind if I stole it?”

“Yes.”

“Let me try too.” Bokuto nudged Kuroo to get up, but the man didn’t budge.

“Fuck off. I’m in heaven.”

“No, let me.” Bokuto tried to pull Kuroo off the chair by his hands.

When that didn’t work, he tried by pulling his legs. He managed to get Kuroo’s ass to slide of the armchair until Kuroo grabbed the armrests.

Bokuto then moved behind Kuroo to push him off, only to be swatted on his head by Kuroo.

“Wait your turn.”

“Please, I know you. Once you make your nest there, nothing will move you out of it.” Bokuto crossed his arms.

“Then I suggest you get comfortable somewhere else,” Kuroo said and closed his eyes, exaggerating his wiggling as he sat even more comfortably.

“Suga...” Bokuto pouted.

“I’m not your father. Deal with your squabbles on your own.”

“But Suga...” Bokuto wailed.

“Just sit on Kuroo.” Tanaka suggested. “You know that Akaashi won’t mind.”

“I might a little,” Akaashi said.

“Aww, babe.” Bokuto smiled and went to give a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

Akaashi’s eyes softened at the affection. 

 

...

 

“Hinata just texted me. They’re almost here,” Kuroo shouted, jumping up from the armchair. And then he remembered that he didn’t want to get up and sat back down.

“I’m going to scare him so bad, he’ll piss his pants,” Lev boasted with a happy glint in his eyes.

“Do that and you’ll crap yours,” Kuroo said menacingly.

Lev promptly stepped behind Yaku to hide from Kuroo. Like that helped make him invisible at all.

Tanaka snorted and went to hide behind the big box in middle of the living room. Anyone coming in through the front door would notice the party hat popping into view behind it.

Kuroo had pondered on hiding the box somewhere but he and Bokuto had come to the conclusion that it was best hidden in plain sight.

Right, a box the size of a Snorlax wrapped in bright red paper was definitely hidden in plain sight in Suga’s living room.

Nishinoya was peeking by the door through a little crack.

Asahi handed out party hats to those who weren’t wearing them yet.

Oikawa killed the music and Suga shut off the lights.

“They’re coming,” Nishinoya whispered, closing the door quietly and hid behind the armchair that Kuroo was sitting in.

Everyone waited in bated breath.

 

...

 

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as they jumped from behind couches and counter and the big ass gift. Except Kuroo.

There was no reaction on Kenma’s face. Either he was expecting it, or he had truly achieved a higher sense of existence where nothing could elicit a reaction out of him.

Suga envied him a little.

He knew that if he was ever surprised like that, he would definitely scream twice as loud and cower behind the nearest object or faint on the spot like a myotonic goat.

“Huh, you’re not surprised at all,” Bokuto observed. “Did Hinata tell you?”

“Do I smell apple pie?” Kenma asked instead of answering, and started to walk towards the kitchen.

Suga had warmed the pie he and Terushima had made in the oven again, and there was a subtle scent of apples floating in the air.

“Yuuji made it for you,” Suga said and set the pie on the kitchen island. “As a birthday present.”

“Tell him thank you.” Kenma sat in front of the pie.

Hinata sat next to him and put a party hat on Kenma’s head, sporting one himself already. The pink clashed with his orange hair, whereas the red suited Kenma almost perfectly.

“I’m sure you can tell him yourself the next time you see him,” Suga said.

“I’m pretty sure that you had a hand in making that pie too, Suga.” Oikawa spoke up, leaning to the kitchen island with his arms. “Otherwise the flour handprints on your ass were just absurd.”

Suga smacked Oikawa on his arm.

“I didn’t need to know that.” Kenma eyed Oikawa.

“He really didn’t need to know that.” Suga agreed and made room for Asahi to light the candles “2” and “4” on the pie.

Oikawa just smiled his smug smile at Suga.

“Okay, blow the candles and then you can eat it.” Yaku encouraged Kenma with a nudge.

Everyone had gathered around Kenma and the kitchen island to watch.

Well, almost everyone.

“Will someone film it so I can watch it later?” Kuroo called from the arm chair.

Kenma looked over his shoulder at him.

“I love you Kenma. Happy birthday and all, but I’m currently in heaven and I literally cannot descend,” he pressed the last words and closed his eyes again.

Kenma turned back to the pie and blew the candles out.

Happy birthday was shouted in chorus by everyone and Suga snapped pictures.

Yaku handed a fork to Kenma and Asahi took the candles out.

The music was turned back on and everyone returned to what they were doing before Kenma and Hinata arrived.

Hinata stayed at Kenma’s side and wrapped a streamer loosely around his neck.

Suga took a picture as the two looked at each other with a smile, Kenma’s soft and Hinata’s wide.

“You know, it’s been 17 years and I still don’t know who let the dogs out,” Akaashi mused.

Suga looked to the man and saw a glass of wine in his hand, a little distraught Asahi looking at him with worry.

Yep, this was pretty much what he had been expecting from the party.

 

...

 

“Are you going to eat the whole thing alone?” Oikawa eyed Kenma and the pie. “Is it that good?”

“Have you ever tried Terushima-san’s apple pie?” Hinata asked.

They were all looking at Kenma eat the pie, alone. Suga wondered how everyone watching him didn’t seem to bother Kenma now that he was in Nirvana.

“No, why?”

“It’s the cat’s pajamas!” Hinata praised his employer’s apple pie. There were scattered splutters of laughter.

“It’s so good! Whenever there’s some left over at the coffee shop, Terushima-san lets me take it home to Kenma.” 

There was almost a blissed calm in Kenma’s eyes.

They were all still looking at Kenma eat the pie, envying him.

“I want some!” Lev grabbed a fork and reached towards the pie.

“Don’t touch my pie,” Kenma hugged the pie closer to himself, shielding it from him. 

Lev looked at Kenma’s frankly terrifying expression of possessiveness and dropped his fork.

“Don’t worry, Lev. There’s cake for us.” Suga patted the tall man’s shoulder. He had to reach up a little to do that.

“Does that mean that I have to blow the candles again?” Kenma looked pained and already overworked by that possibility.

“I’ll help,” Hinata promised.

There was a soft smile on Kenma’s lips when he looked at Hinata. He returned to eating his pie with that little smile, slipping back to his blissed existence. 

Hinata looked happy next to him. His smile was sweet and his eyes bright. Suga realized how rare it must’ve been for Kenma to look so excited about something.

Suga had thought that Kenma must’ve been a little more open with Hinata, when they were alone, and maybe he was. But the blissed out state, the smile and everything Kenma looked like right now, must’ve been rare for Hinata too and he was enjoying every second of seeing his boyfriend like this.

 

...

 

Somehow Kenma had managed to eat the whole pie. Oikawa had no idea where he had stuffed it, but he looked utterly relaxed as he sat on the couch.

Kuroo’s gift was still waiting to be opened, but it had been pushed to the side to make room in the living room.

It was a little restless in the apartment with so many people, everyone scattered around here and there.

Kenma had decided the night’s movie to be Jaws. He and Hinata where sitting on the couch, tucked so close next to each other Oikawa was sure they were of one body.

Tanaka and Nishinoya were playing something with cards by the dinner table. Daichi and Asahi were sitting with them, but immersed in their own conversation.

Lev was already asleep, his long limbs spread over the floor, one of the couch cushions under his head. Yaku was lying with him, curled next to him, his head on Lev’s stomach.

Bokuto was sitting on the floor in front of a couch, Akaashi between his legs drinking from a wine glass. Even when the man was drunk and weird, he was classy.

Kuroo was sitting in Oikawa’s armchair, and he hadn’t seen Kuroo stand up once. Didn’t he need to go to the bathroom?

“I need to use the bathroom.” Kuroo said out loud.

“Okay,” Suga said. He was lying on a couch, playing with his camera. He had taken close to 200 hundred photos already, according to Oikawa’s calculations.

“No one’s stopping you.” Suga looked up to Kuroo.

“But I don’t want to move.”

“Well, you’re not peeing there either,” Oikawa warned him.

“But if I move someone else will sit here.” Kuroo looked at Bokuto when he said it.

“Kuroo, either you hold it in, or you get off your butt and go to the bathroom,” Suga said.

Kuroo grumbled and squirmed in the armchair. “Fine,” he conceded and got up. “But no one is allowed to sit in my chair while I’m gone.”

“It’s my chair,” Oikawa corrected.

“Are you sure? I fit in it so well, I was sure it was made for me.” Kuroo shifted his weight from one foot to the other in mismatched rhythm to the movie soundtrack.

Suga giggled. “Just go to the bathroom already. I know the Jaws theme is good, but you’re definitely not dancing to it.”

Kuroo shot a dirty look towards Suga, but went anyway.

As soon as Kuroo was out of sight, Oikawa sat in his armchair.

“Kuroo’s going to beat you,” Kenma warned him.

“He can try,” Oikawa grinned and grabbed the popcorn bowl from the coffee table.

“Suga, do you have any popsicles?” Hinata asked.

“I think so. You can check.”

Hinata got up from the couch and Kenma followed him to the freezer, holding his hand.

The apple pie must’ve filled Kenma with warm feelings and soft thoughts. Oikawa had never witnessed Kenma act so clingy around Hinata and it was kind of adorable.

“Oikawa! What the hell?” Kuroo shouted when he came back from the bathroom. “You’re sitting in my chair.”

Oikawa looked at the tall man as he strode to stand next to him with crossed arms in front of his chest. Oikawa grinned at the sight.

“It was free.” He shrugged with a smug smile, not giving two shits.

“Yeah, but it was mine.”

“Actually, it’s mine.” Oikawa threw popcorn at Kuroo.

“But it’s the love of my life!” Kuroo wailed.

“Oh, shut up.” Oikawa threw another popcorn.

“Does anyone else want a popsicle?” Hinata asked, interjecting the oncoming squabble.

“Me!” Nishinoya shouted, standing up on the chair he was sitting on.

Kenma threw a popsicle to him.

Oikawa watched Nishinoya unwrap it and put the wrapper on Asahi’s head like a crown. He beamed at Asahi, who smiled sheepishly.

It was cute.

Until Nishinoya ate the popsicle in two bites.

Oikawa feared the man.

Tanaka shivered at the sight as well. “Dude, you have to stop doing that. It’s creeping us out.”

“But it tastes better this way,” Nishinoya defended himself.

“Get off the love of my life,” Kuroo commanded Oikawa, getting everyone's attention again.

“No,” Oikawa said simply, the overdone grin still in place on his lips, feeling particularly confident, even when Kuroo took the bowl of popcorn from him and started to throw them one at a time at him.

“Kuroo, I’ll make you eat every single popcorn you throw.” Suga sounded irritated.

“Don’t worry, Suga. I’ll clean up.”

Daichi snorted. “Since when?”

“Butt off Daichi. You’re not my boyfriend anymore.” 

“Thank god,” Daichi stated.

Almost everyone had the audacity to laugh.

“This is the love of my life I’m defending here,” Kuroo said back. He had run out of popcorn and was reaching towards a bowl of chips now.

Suga got up lighting fast and took the bowl before Kuroo could reach it.

“No,” he looked sternly at Kuroo.

“But Suga...” Kuroo pouted.

“No. You’re a grown man. Now sit your butt down there and leave the food alone.” Suga pointed towards a couch.

Kuroo went and sat down, eyeing Oikawa on the armchair.

“And earlier he said that he _wasn’t_ our dad,” Bokuto stage whispered to everyone and to no one in particular.

Oikawa knew there was a smug grin on his face. He didn’t even bother to try and hide it. Suga threw him a disapproving look too and put the bowl of chips back down on the coffee table.

“I hope you realize you’ll be cleaning up too?” Suga asked and settled back down.

“Of course Suga-chan,” he smiled at the man.

“Hey Kenma, do you mind if I play?” Kuroo seemed to be over the loss of the love of his life. He lifted Kenma’s game console in his hand higher for Kenma to see it.

“I will pee on the things you eat.” Kenma threatened in a quiet voice and a dead serious look in his eyes from the kitchen.

Kuroo dropped the console immediately back on the couch where it bounced a little from the drop.

Kenma turned back to Hinata by the kitchen counter.

Oikawa wondered if he was enjoying his birthday party. He hadn’t struck him as a person who liked to be the center of attention.

“Has anyone realized that if you watch Jaws backwards, it’s about a shark that throws up so many people that they have to open a beach?” Akaashi spoke up suddenly.

“Dude, that’s deep,” Tanaka admitted from the kitchen table. At which point had he climbed to stand on it exactly?

“That’s disgusting.” Kenma said and Hinata pressed his face in his boyfriend’s neck to hide his laughter. Oikawa noticed the soft smile that spread on Kenma’s lips when he looked down and to the side at Hinata.

Yeah, he was enjoying the party, Oikawa decided.

Asahi was still wearing the popsicle wrapper on his head.

 

...

 

“Is anyone else totally drunk?” Tanaka asked.

Bokuto lifted Akaashi’s hand up.

“I think everyone is at least a little,” Daichi said, leaning heavily to the table.

The volume of music had been raised once the movie was over and everyone was in a happily inebriated state.

Well, almost everyone. Oikawa was sure that Suga was still mostly sober. He knew they needed at least one person to make sure no one was making stupid life-ending decision. Like Nishinoya had tried a week ago by tying rockets to his rollerblades. 

He hadn’t seen Suga drink nothing but a soda, an energy drink and a lot of water. It only cemented the thought in Oikawa’s head that Suga didn’t drink often, if at all.

But he wasn’t the only one. Kenma, who had mysteriously disappeared, hadn’t had anything alcoholic in his hand either.

“I’m also a little bored.” Nishinoya was lying on the coffee table when Suga’s phone started to ring.

Oikawa was sure the caller was Terushima from the soft way Suga answered it and went outside the apartment to talk.

Oikawa followed him go with his eyes.

“Want to have some fun?” Kuroo asked from Nishinoya when the apartment door closed after Suga. He reached for a streamer hanging from the living room ceiling lamp and pulled it down.

Oikawa watched what he did, noticing the smirk on his lips as he balled the streamer in his hands.

He threw it at Daichi, who had his back turned to Kuroo.

It bounced of his head like a tennis ball that was doing a really bad job being a tennis ball. Daichi turned slowly to look behind him.

Everyone hastily pointed at someone to accuse.

“Kuroo, I know it was you.” Daichi raised his eyebrow at the smirking man and grouched to pick the balled up streamer.

Kuroo scoffed, mock-offended. “I would never!” He pressed his hand on his chest.

Daichi threw the streamer back to Kuroo.

Or tried to.

He had terrible aim, Oikawa was extremely glad to notice.

The balled up streamer did a little arc on the air and it landed _very_ far from Kuroo and onto Yaku.

Everyone following the exchange howled in laughter, stirring Yaku and Lev from their dreamlands.

“Daichi, what the hell?” Tanaka held his stomach as he laughed. “I thought you were good at this sort of thing.”

“I am!” Daichi protested. 

“Not when you’re drunk,” Asahi pointed out to him, smiling wide.

“You know what?” Daichi picked up a cookie from the kitchen counter. “I’ll prove it.”

Daichi threw the cookie and it went sideways, hitting Nishinoya in the chest. If he had meant to hit Nishinoya, he had an excellent aim. However, Oikawa doubted that.

“Where you really trying to prove to us...” Kuroo was laughing. “Prove that you’re a good... A good thrower or a bad one?”

“I’ll try again.” Daichi picked up another cookie.

“Um, Daichi, maybe you –“ Asahi started, but Daichi wasn’t listening and threw again. This time it knocked a party hat from Bokuto’s head.

“Hey!”

“ – I don’t think you should throw anymore, Daichi.” Asahi said again. “Suga will get mad.”

“Oh, right –“ Daichi seemed to remember when something hit squarely to his chest, spreading over Tanaka too, who had been standing very close to Daichi. His eyes went wide.

It was probably not even worth to mention, but within seconds, the apartment was the battlefield of a food fight.

And there were no sides! No one was safe, people!

Food was flying everywhere, landing on everything and everyone. Even Yaku and Lev moved to hide from the onslaught of food, throwing food back.

Kuroo and Oikawa were battling for the dominance of the refrigerator. They were now and then, when they were at arm’s length from each other, pouring various liquids on each other.

Bokuto turned the coffee table on its side and hid behind it. Akaashi was using the couch pillows as his shield.

It was chaos, Asahi the only one trying to end the war with reasoning words. The most compelling one being that Suga would get mad at everyone when he came back in.

And the man came in at the perfect moment, in Oikawa’s opinion.

Something hit Suga in the head when he came in. There was no telling what it was anymore at this point, because people were throwing things that had already been thrown once, or twice.

Suga froze, his hand on the door handle, halfway in the apartment.

Everyone else froze too, waiting for his reaction. Daichi actually looked scared and Asahi was practically shaking. Bokuto had serious trouble holding his laughter, his hand in front of his mouth.

It was safe to say, that Suga surprised everyone, and simultaneously surprised no one, by picking up the closest thing he could find and throwing it at Daichi.

The food fight was on again like it had never paused.

 

...

 

Everyone was covered in food and drinks, so was the floor, the walls, the furniture. It really did look a war zone, if real bombs had been made of bananas, rice, whipped cream and crumbs.

They had exhausted themselves with laughter and running and throwing.

“I think it’s time to call it a night,” Suga sighed. He was lying on the floor, his feet under a couch.

“I think you’re right,” Daichi agreed.

“Hey, where’d Kenma and Hinata go?” Bokuto was looking around him in search of them.

Kuroo sat up and looked around him too. “I don’t know, they disappeared a while ago.”

“He didn’t even open the big box yet.” Tanaka pointed towards it. “I didn’t get to see if Nishinoya would fit in it.”

“Some other time then.” Asahi patted his back.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if I don’t know.” Tanaka sounded troubled.

Everyone started to stir back into life, having caught their breaths. 

“We’re gonna go now.” Yaku stood up, trying to brush off the remains of food off his clothes, grimacing at the stickiness.

“Together?” Kuroo smirked, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

“Shut up Kuroo,” Yaku said back to him. “This was a great party, Suga.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourselves. And I expect you to come and help with the cleaning tomorrow.”

“Of course, Suga,” Yaku promised and sounded like he meant it. He offered his hand to Lev and helped the man up too.

“Bye everyone.”

“Practice safe sex!” Kuroo called after them when the front door closed.

“Wait, are they together?” Oikawa asked from him.

Kuroo shrugged. “Who knows?”

He didn’t look troubled that he didn’t know, and neither did anyone else.

“Suga, you don’t want all of us to come and help tomorrow right?” Bokuto asked carefully. “You won’t need all of us.”

“If you threw something, you’re cleaning tomorrow.” Suga fixed Bokuto with a stern glare.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be here,” Akaashi promised. He was very pointedly avoiding looking down at his own clothes.

Oikawa understood well why. He didn’t want to know himself how dirty his clothes were. He was sure his hair was a mess too.

“Since you’ll have all your neighbors to help you, you won’t need me,” Oikawa said casually.

Suga huffed in amusement. “Nice try.”

Oikawa grumbled quietly and got up.

“Well, I better get some sleep then,” he said and stumbled towards his bedroom.

“Good night Oikawa-san!” Everyone called after him. Or at least his tired brain interpreted the chorus to come from everyone.

 

...

 

Oikawa and Suga spent most of Saturday cleaning up after the epic food fight with their neighbors.

Bokuto had first coined the term “epic” when he recounted the previous night as they cleaned and it had soon caught on with everyone.

And it had been epic.

Oikawa didn’t remember when he had last laughed so much.

And everyone had come the next morning to help with the cleaning, except Daichi. He lived far far away and no one bothered to go and get him or bother or bully him to come.

Even Kenma and Hinata had turned up to help when they heard what they had “missed” last night. Of course Kenma was doing the bare minimum while Hinata tried to help everyone. But neither looked disappointed that they had left early. Oikawa couldn’t blame them for any reason.

“Did you have fun Oikawa-san?” Suga asked when they were alone in the kitchen scrubbing the kitchen cupboards. He was kneeling on the counter to reach the top of the cupboards better, while Oikawa was using a kitchen chair.

“I did.”

“Yeah? How are you feeling?” Suga had a worried look in his eyes when he studied Oikawa’s face. It was sweet how he cared.

“A little hungover, but I’m okay,” Oikawa reassured him. “At least I’m not as miserable as Kuroo.”

They both looked over their shoulders at the man in question.

Kuroo was groaning on all fours, scrubbing the floor. He had chosen the task himself so he wouldn’t have to stand and the bucket would be close.

“I almost feel bad for making him help,” Suga said. “But he was the one who started this whole mess so he definitely doesn’t get exempted,” he grinned.

Oikawa smiled at Suga’s mercilessness.

“Suga-chan, how come Terushima didn’t come to the party? He knows Kenma, doesn’t he?” Oikawa asked when they turned back to the cupboards.

Suga’s smile turned softer at the mention of Terushima.

“He had to work late and then something came up with his friend, so he couldn’t make it.”

Suga didn’t look worried. And why should he? Just because Oikawa thought the excuse sounded flimsy didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. Terushima wouldn’t lie to Suga and Suga didn’t have any reason to doubt him.

“Never again,” Kuroo complained when he walked to the kitchen. It was definitely because of his hangover, not the cleaning. 

“We should have food fights more often,” Bokuto mused out loud with a wide smile on his face.

“Yeah, cause you’re all adults,” Kenma stated.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter only happened because I felt like I wanted to write a birthday party :)  
> And I died of laughter about 11 times when I wrote it. So, either I find myself the funniest person alive, or I was very tired.  
> Let me know.  
> (Because I might have a very wrong and disproportionate idea of my own sense of humor and I'd like to be aware of that) 
> 
> to be continued:  
> *goes to check what I've already written for the next chapter*  
> *thinks the following line is funny and puts it here for no other reason what so ever* 
> 
> "Alright, ladies and gentlemen. It's time for murder."  
> (But it doesn't really have anything to do with the chapter's content. Take what you want from it)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even I don't know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses for this chapter.  
> Anyway, here it is. It is what it is.

 

You’re currently witnessing a fine piece of procrastination

 

* * *

 

Oikawa was bored.

He was lying on his bed looking up at nothing, and if he didn’t think it was disgusting, he would be spitting at the ceiling.

His school books lay next to him, forgotten for now. He should study.

Or he could stare at the ceiling.

The last option was the most inviting to Oikawa at the moment.

Even Kageyama was too busy to text with him. And Iwaizumi would just bark at him to forget about school for a minute and rest.

But what about Suga-chan?

Maybe he could go bother him?

He made his decision and rolled out of his bed. He stretched his arms high over his head as he made his way towards living room. He could see Suga’s tuft of hair over the back of the couch and a movie playing on the TV.

“I like this movie,” Oikawa said as he made his way closer to Suga.

“Me too.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”  

“No.”

Oikawa sat down on the same couch with Suga, in the other end.

“Thank you, Suga-chan,” he smiled and settled more comfortably. He turned his back partially to the armrest and lifted his feet into Suga’s lap. He did it more to annoy Suga than to get comfortable, but it was nice to get two birds with one stone. Besides, he was sure that Suga would just push the feet off.

Oikawa caught the annoyed glare Suga shot at him and he smirked in response. But he didn’t push Oikawa’s feet off.

It surprised Oikawa, and a tiny bit of him was relived. That tiny part of him really wanted physical contact now. It was nice that Suga allowed it.

His smirk turned to a small contented smile before he turned his head back to the movie, as the opening scene played.

“I thought you’d be studying,” Suga spoke softly, settling to an even more slumped position under Oikawa’s legs.

“I was bored and I couldn’t motivate myself to look at another chart of sport injuries.”

“And usually you can?” There was no doubt in Suga’s voice, it was pure curiosity.

“If I have to,” Oikawa admitted.

“You know, you never told me why you’re studying sport science. What is it that you want to do with that degree?”

“The field interested me, but I didn’t really get into it until my senior year at college.” Oikawa kept looking at Suga while he talked, trying to catch any subtle change in his face. “But since I can’t play anything anymore, it’s lost its initial glimmer. I’m not really sure what I want to do when I get my master’s degree. If I even get it. I still haven’t started my dissertation.”

“What did you _want_ to do with it? You must’ve chosen it for a reason,” Suga spoke to the TV screen.

“Well, I wanted to play until I was forced to retire at the age of 90,” Oikawa stated as casually as he could. “And then I would get something to do in the background of a volleyball team, or any sports team really.”

“Can’t you still get something to do in the background?” Suga asked innocently.

Oikawa studied Suga’s open expression. Of course he didn’t know, Oikawa hadn’t told him before.

“It’d be too painful to watch others play when I was forced out of playing,” Oikawa said in a bitter tone.

Suga turned to look at him. There was no pity in his face.

“Then look into individual sports,” he said matter-of-factly. “You know the dangers of pushing yourself too hard. Use that to your advantage. Be in the background of molding and training a young athlete in an individual sport.”

Oikawa was stunned, because he hadn’t thought about it. He had always focused on team sports because he liked the dynamics in a team. And maybe this way he could still indirectly be a part of a team.

“Coaching is teamwork too,” Suga added softly and turned back to the movie.

Yeah, coaching could be teamwork too. It was definitely something to think about.

But not now.

Not now when Suga’s fingers had started to draw irregular small lines and swirls and circles with his fingers on Oikawa’s legs.

It felt nice. It was calming.

Oikawa focused back on the movie.

It was one of his favorites and Suga laughed in all the right places. He wasn’t bored anymore.

“When I was a kid, my dream job was a pillow fort architect,” Suga said.

It brought a smile on Oikawa’s lips. He could think about his career options later.

 

...

 

Oikawa and Suga were still lazing on the couch after the movie had ended some time ago. They were still in the same positions they had started the movie in, when their front door opened.

“Who wants to hear a joke?” Kuroo asked when he stepped into their apartment.

“Not me.” Bokuto, who followed Kuroo in, said in a bored voice. Akaashi trailed in after him.

The usual gang was here again and Oikawa straightened up, pulling his legs from Suga’s lap.

“Yeah you do.” Kuroo grinned happily and sat on the free couch, throwing his legs up on the coffee table. “A man went into a store. Shovel.”

Suga let out a burst of laughter, surprising Oikawa. He didn’t get what was so funny. Suga however was trying to suppress his giggling with his hand in front of his mouth.  

Kuroo pointed to Bokuto. “I told you.”

“That doesn’t count. It wasn’t even a joke.” Bokuto protested.

“To be fair, it’s fairly easy to make Suga laugh,” Akaashi placated. There was a small almost-not-there-smile on his lips as he watched Suga.

“He’s heard it before. You knew it would make Suga laugh.” Bokuto accused Kuroo.

“Still, we made a bet and you lost.” Kuroo gestured to Bokuto with his hand, palm open.

Bokuto grumbled, looking a little dejected, and pulled a wallet from his backpocket.

“I really hate you sometimes,” Bokuto said as he pulled out a bill and threw it at Kuroo. It fell short on the distance and landed on the floor. “You can come pick it up.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a sore loser.” Kuroo reached over the coffee table for the money. “Just make better bets in the future.” He offered the advice with a smug grin and sat back down.

Suga calmed down with a deep sigh.

“You over it now?” Akaashi asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Suga nodded, his eyes closed.

“I don’t get what was so funny about the joke,” Oikawa said.

“It isn’t funny,” Bokuto brooded and sat down on the armchair. Akaashi went to him after a beat and sat sideways in his lap, wrapping his arms around Bokuto’s shoulders. He was whispering something in Bokuto’s ear while Bokuto picked on a loose thread on a hole in his jeans.

“Kuroo...” Suga said, mildly berating him.

“I know.” He sighed. “Do you want your money back, Bo?”

“No, it’s fine,” Bokuto said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah...”

Akaashi gave a kiss on Bokuto’s cheek, making him smile a little again.

“Anyone up to Cluedo?” Kuroo asked then, getting up to fetch it from the shelf before anyone had had the chance to answer.

“Why not?” Oikawa shrugged. “At least there are no shovels.”

Suga laughed out again and covered his face with his hands to stifle it.

“Why Oikawa?” Bokuto asked with despair. “Why?”

Kuroo laughed at Suga and offered his hand for a high-five to Oikawa.

Oikawa high-fived Kuroo and grinned softly at the man next to him who was trying to control his breathing, his face still hidden in his hands. He had no real answer for Bokuto. He just wanted to see if it was possible to make Suga laugh at the mention of the word.

“Suga, what is so funny about it?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” Suga spoke into his hands. “But it’s really making me want to punch Kuroo.”

Kuroo chuckled. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen. It’s time for murder,” he announced and started to set up the game.

“Is this another game where you always win?” Oikawa asked from him.

“No,” Kuroo shook his head. “This is the one where Bokuto always wins.”

Oikawa looked to Bokuto. Akaashi was still murmuring something to him and there was a small smile playing on his lips. He seemed to be over his little bout of depression.

“I hope you don’t mind, Bokuto, but this time I’m going to win,” Oikawa boasted.

“He only wins because Akaashi helps him.” Suga’s words were muffled by his hands.

Oikawa turned back to look at him and smiled. “Are you ever going to come out from there?” He nudged Suga’s arm.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m embarrassed. And rethinking life decisions.”

Oikawa smiled wider. “Suga-chan, you’re adorable.”

Suga didn’t say anything for a while.

“Don’t look at me.”

There were scattered laughs and chuckles in the room.

Bokuto nudged Akaashi off his lap and he kneeled down on the floor by the coffee table.

“It’s okay, Suga.” He patted Suga’s knee. “You can laugh at the joke.”

“It’s a stupid joke,” Suga kept speaking into his hands.

“I told you.” Bokuto pointed to Kuroo with triumph.

Kuroo chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you told me. Here, you can roll first, Bo.” He offered the dice to Bokuto.

“Where is Terushima when we need him? He could get Suga out of that in a matter of seconds and few words.” Akaashi said.

Oikawa studied Suga for a moment. “Do you want us to call Terushima?” He asked.

“No,” Suga shook his head and took a deep breath before he dropped his hands. “I’m fine.”

Oikawa moved to sit down on the floor, pleased that Suga was over his embarrassment now.  

“I’m seeing him tomorrow anyway.”

Oikawa wondered if Kageyama was busy tomorrow.

 

...

 

Suga was counting back months, weeks and days. Oikawa had only lived a couple of weeks with him, but it felt longer, in a god way. He had fit in, not just in the apartment, but in the building too, so well that any outsider would think he had lived there longer, been friends with the residents for years.

And not much had changed with Oikawa moving in. Mainly, just the fact that Suga now spend more time at Terushima’s apartment. He didn’t mind it though, not at all.

Suga was looking forward to seeing him again. It was semi-busy when he walked into Terushima’s coffee shop and he was serving a customer by the counter. Suga decided to wait.

He was looking around inside the space, and his eyes were drawn to the chandelier looking lamp that was hanging in middle of the room, high enough that you had to look up to see it. He had seen it before, of course, many times. But something about it drew him in that day.

Suga walked under it and looked up. It was mesmerizing and he thought of the photo he had seen of the Eiffel tower taken from under it.

Suga produced his camera from his bag and took a photo.

“Hi.”

Arms wrapped around Suga’s waist from the side as the greeting was whispered in his ear.

Suga smiled at the recognition of those arms and got a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey.”

“Good one?” Terushima motioned with his chin towards the camera Suga had lowered.

“I think so.”

“Can I see?”

Suga raised his camera and showed the photo he took to Terushima. He looked at it over Suga’s shoulder.

“It is a good one.”

Suga looked at Terushima. He was smiling softly, his eyes bright.

Suga turned the camera towards him and snapped a photo blindly. He had no idea if he even got Terushima in the frame, but it didn’t matter.

Somehow, every moment, every subject Suga had wanted to capture, had been imprinted on his memory. He knew, that if he took a photo of Terushima looking like this, he could remember it forever. In six months he comes to regret it.

Terushima didn’t even flinch, and smiled brighter. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, where are we going?” Suga turned to look away as he put his camera back in his bag.

Terushima slowly withdrew his hands from around Suga’s waist and it caused shivers.

“My place.” He started to walk towards the exit, Suga right beside him. “You’re wearing those jeans again.”

Suga smirked. It might’ve been intentional.

“And I thought we’d watch a movie,” Terushima added, waving goodbye to his employees and Suga knew from his voice that this was what he had had in mind when they agreed to meet.

“Sounds good,” Suga agreed as they stepped out to the street.

“But you’re not allowed to wear those jeans.” Terushima smirked and swiftly moved his hand over Suga’s ass.

“What is this hate you seem to have towards pants?”

“Not just any pants,” Terushima said seriously. “But the ones you’re wearing. It’ll distract me from the movie if I know you’re wearing them. I don’t even need to see them, it’s enough that I know you’re wearing them. I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Suga bit his lip at the thought Terushima’s words were painting.

“Then let’s not watch a movie. Let’s do what you’re thinking of doing right now.”

Terushima chuckled. “Oh, we will,” he smiled wickedly at Suga. “Later.”

“Is that a promise?”

Terushima didn’t say anything, but the wicked smile held on his lips and the licked his lips. It was a good answer.

Suga was glad they weren’t far from Terushima’s apartment. He wanted to kiss him now and on this very instant.

He needed a distraction.

“So, was it weird that I just walked into your coffee shop and took a photo of your lamp?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, but I like it.”

Suga chuckled.

“I’m serious Suga.”

Suga looked at Terushima and his smile had turned gentler, but he looked serious too.

“If I didn’t know you, and saw you walk in and take a photo like that, I’d want to know you.” He really did mean it. It was in his voice, in his expression.

A soft smile spread on Suga’s lips and he slipped his hand into Terushima’s. He saw Terushima’s face soften at the contact.

He never wanted to let go.

 

...

 

At the same time, Oikawa was enjoying a movie in the living room with Kuroo.

Kuroo had chosen.

He had chosen Paul.

Oikawa kind of loved the man. He had been apprehensive about Kuroo in the beginning, if he was being honest, even though the man was fun. It had taken some time for him to come like Kuroo and he knew that Kuroo knew that. He was glad that slight tension was gone now.

“Is it ever just the two of us watching a movie?” Kuroo observed, more than asked. He was sitting in Oikawa’s armchair. Oikawa knew the man wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon, maybe tomorrow at the soonest.

“No, I guess not,” Oikawa answered. Suga was always there too, if not in the living room, then somewhere else in the apartment.

“The love of my life!” Bokuto exclaimed when he entered, interrupting the quiet calm in the living room and ran straight to Kuroo.

Oikawa knew that Akaashi wouldn’t be following in. Bokuto was a little more reserved when he was around. It was a little thing, a subtle change that you really had to search for to find out. He still asked.

“No Akaashi?”

“He’s studying,” Bokuto answered, trying to settle down comfortably on Kuroo’s lap, while he was trying to push Bokuto off.

“I told you, I’m not in love with you anymore.” Kuroo struggled with pushing Bokuto off of his lap. “I have a new love and you’re interrupting our time together.”

Kuroo meant the chair, Oikawa was sure of it. Of course he meant the chair. Everyone loved the chair. 

“But Kuroo...” Bokuto mock-wailed.

“What’s with the commotion in here?” Tanaka asked when he entered.

Oikawa sighed. So much for the peace and quiet with Kuroo.

“Kuroo’s breaking my heart all over again.”

“Are we talking about Tsukishima?” Tanaka lied down on the free couch and stacked his hands behind his head. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“He’s talking about the chair.” Oikawa informed him. “Aren’t you cold?”

Tanaka looked down at his naked torso and then up to Oikawa on the other couch. “Does this bother you?”

“Yes,” Kuroo, Bokuto and Oikawa said at the same time.

“You just hate male beauty.” Tanaka waved his hand and focused on the movie.

“The quiet was nice as long as it lasted, wasn’t it Oikawa?” Kuroo asked, following in the footsteps of Oikawa’s earlier thoughts.

“I’m going to start locking the door when we’re alone together too,” Oikawa mused.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto wiggled his eyebrows and got up from Kuroo’s lap. “Gossip.”

“It was really nice and quiet and calm in here until you two barged in.” Oikawa defended his words.

“It’s Wednesday. There’s going to be even more, just wait.”

Oikawa tipped his head back over the back of the couch and sighed. Why? And how had he managed to not notice this in the time that he had already lived here? Had he been out every Wednesday?

Bokuto plopped down to sit on the same couch with Oikawa.

And as if on cue, Kenma walked in.

He took note of what they were watching and sat down on one of the large pillows on the floor. He pulled out his handheld game console.

Oikawa sometimes wondered what drew the man in to social gatherings when he was one of the least social people Oikawa had ever met.

“No Hinata?” Tanaka asked.

“Working.”

Oikawa liked how Kenma talked in short sentences. He was concise and straight to the point. There was no bullshit with him.

...

Oikawa had gotten used to their neighbors just walking in by now. But some of them still surprised him with it.

The front door opened again and Yaku came in. 

“Where’s Suga?” Yaku asked immediately, looking around the living room and kitchen area with his eyes.

“Is anyone ever here to see me?” Oikawa asked, throwing his arms wide in question.

“Who are you again?” Kuroo furrowed his brow like he was seriously asking it.

Oikawa threw his empty water bottle at the man and Kuroo dodged it expertly. He wasn’t the aim of a throw for the first time.

“Mean,” he pouted at Kuroo.

“Seriously, where’s Suga?” Yaku asked again.

“He’s out with Terushima.”

Kuroo breathed out in laughter. “They’re definitely not out.”

“What do you mean?” Yaku looked confused.

“If they’re together, and they’re not here, they’re at Terushima’s apartment,” Kuroo explained.

Kuroo was right. The two had a serious problem with their inability to keep their hands off of each other.

At least they were happy, Oikawa thought as his phone dinged with a message.

 

_Are you busy tomorrow?_

 

No, Oikawa wasn’t busy tomorrow, but he decided not to answer right away.  

“Why are you looking for Suga?” He asked Yaku, putting his phone away.

“Because I saw you lot sitting here and I was worried that you had been left without supervision. “

Kuroo scooped the bottle Oikawa had thrown earlier and hurled it at Yaku who dodged it easily. It wasn’t that surprising to Oikawa since he knew that Yaku was still playing in his libero position in the same team with Kuroo. 

“Um, so, another question,” Yaku said and Oikawa looked up to the man and saw him looking at Tanaka. “Why is Tanaka shirtless?”

“We have no idea,” they said simultaneously again.

Yaku lifted his eyebrow.

“Does it really bother you that much?” Tanaka looked at them all.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Why?”

“Relationship, relationship,” Kuroo pointed at himself and Bokuto. “Single as far as I know but Tanaka doesn’t seem like your type.” Kuroo pointed to Oikawa.

“He isn’t.”

“Relationship and I have no idea what’s going on there.” Kuroo finished by pointing to Kenma and Yaku.

“Well, I’ll remember that the next time I come over.” Tanaka smiled and got up.

“You’re leaving?” Yaku asked with worry in his voice. 

Oikawa wasn’t worried. He recognized Tanaka’s expression – he definitely wasn’t upset.

“Yeah,” Tanaka answered Yaku’s question, stretched and stepped over Oikawa’s and Bokuto’s legs that were propped on the coffee table. “I needed to get out of my apartment for a little while.”

Did Tanaka know about Asahi and Nishinoya too?

“Did Nishinoya have someone over?”

“Yep.” Tanaka smirked. “See you later.” He waved to them with a smile and left.

The apartment fell into silence once Tanaka was gone and they focused back to the movie. Oikawa wondered if anyone else in the building knew about Nishinoya and Asahi. The two weren’t subtle and it was possible that everyone had noticed it.

“Oikawa-san, you’re not actually single are you?” Kenma asked suddenly. 

Everyone turned to look at Kenma and then at Oikawa.

Oikawa looked at Kenma who was looking at him. How did he know?

Oikawa’s phone dinged again and he pulled it out.

 

_I really want to see you_

 

Oikawa sighed.

He shouldn’t but he kind of wanted to see Kageyama too. He might as well.

“Are you seeing someone?” Kuroo asked, leaning forward in the chair.

Oikawa glanced at him and answered the message.

 

_I can come after school_

 

He pocketed his phone again and looked up to the waiting faces. “No.” he smiled easily.

Kenma was the first to look away. “You’re lying,” he said to his game.

“I’m not lying. I’m not dating anyone.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Kuroo narrowed his eyes.

“Does Suga know that you’re seeing someone?” Yaku asked. There was that worry again.

Oikawa sighed. Guess he was doing this.

“Yes, Suga-chan knows.”

“Then why haven’t we met this guy? I’m sure Suga would be okay with you bringing him here,” Kuroo spoke casually.

Oikawa knew that Suga would be okay with it. He practically encouraged Oikawa to bring him over. He just didn’t want his dating world to meet his home. He didn’t want to entertain Kageyama’s possible “relationship-y” thoughts and ideas.

It was clear Kageyama wanted to see Oikawa outside his apartment too. It was clear that he wanted more from their “situation”. But Oikawa wasn’t ready for that, no matter how often he saw the man.  

“You don’t have to hide the guy from us. In case you haven’t noticed,” Bokuto made a large circle in the air with his hand, “we’re very okay with you being gay.”

Oikawa looked at him with widened eyes.

Of course he knew they were okay with it. They basically flaunted their own gayness every minute of every day. And he hadn’t been exactly hiding it either. At least Kuroo would know that he used to date Iwaizumi.

“Are you surprised that we know you’re gay?” Kuroo asked, judging Oikawa’s surprise wrong.

“It was kind of obvious with the way you keep staring at Suga’s ass,” Bokuto added.

Oikawa scoffed. “I don’t stare at Suga’s ass.”

“Yeah, you kind of do,” Kuroo nodded with his words.

“All the time,” Kenma added.

“It’s adorable,” Bokuto cooed.

Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest and slump a little lower on the couch. He hadn’t been staring at Suga’s ass.

And they knew it. They just wanted to tease him.

“Don’t worry, Oikawa.” Yaku patted his shoulder companionably. “We do it all the time too.”

Kuroo and Bokuto nodded.

Oikawa scowled. He hadn’t been staring at Suga’s ass.

Even though, he kind of had.

 

...

 

Suga came home late that night. He would’ve spent it with Terushima, if it wasn’t for Terushima’s friend who needed him urgently for help.

Suga was recounting the evening and the start of the night in his head as he climbed up the building’s stairs.

He and Terushima had indeed watched a movie and eaten bucket loads of popcorn. They might have decided to watch it in Terushima’s bed, for convenience, and it had truly been a good decision. Terushima’s kisses had tasted like salt and butter.

Suga bit his lip, remembering how they had laughed.

He had loved every second he had spent with Yuuji that evening and he was disappointed that he had left.

“I don’t want you to go,” Terushima had said and pulled Suga’s back against his chest, his arms wrapping around Suga’s stomach and nose burying into Suga’s hair.

“Bobata seems to be in a great need of a friend and he’s waiting in your living room.”

“And I’m seriously considering being a bad friend because I really want you to stay,” Terushima spoke against Suga’s neck.

“Then you wouldn’t be you,” Suga had stated and stepped away from Terushima to pull his sweater on. “I don’t mind that I have to go.”

“But I kind of do.” Terushima sounded a little sad, his hands reaching for Suga again. “We’re not going to see each other for a couple of days again and I really wanted you to stay the night.”

“I really wanted to stay too.” Suga stroked Terushima’s cheek and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. “But whatever problem Bobata is having sounded personal and I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable talking about it to you.”

Terushima had sighed, the breath tickling on Suga’s skin.

“Be a good friend.” He had kissed Terushima again. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he had promised and stepped away again to leave.

“Not yet.” Terushima had grabbed Suga by his waist and pulled him back against him for a kiss.

Suga smiled at the memory, he could still feel a ghost of that kiss on his lips when he opened and closed the front door quietly, not to wake up Oikawa.

It wasn’t necessary though. Oikawa was still up. He was sitting by the kitchen island with his laptop.

“Why are you still up?” Suga glanced at the clock. It was way past midnight.

Oikawa looked up to Suga and pushed his glassed higher on his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Everyone was here today.” Oikawa leaned over the kitchen island and rested his head next to the laptop. “I’m exhausted and restless at the same time.”

Suga smiled softly. He knew what that was like and ever since he had started dating Terushima, he had spent most of his Wednesdays with him.

It was odd how almost everyone in the building had their Wednesday nights off from work and hobbies and decided to congregate in their living room.

Suga gently petted Oikawa’s head.  ”Do you want a hug?”  

Oikawa lifted his head up to look at him. “Yes.”

Suga smiled and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around Oikawa. He could just fit his chin over Oikawa’s shoulder.

Oikawa wasn’t holding onto him as tightly as he had the first time, but it still felt the same – it was warm and it was comforting for Suga too.

“Try to get some sleep,” he said quietly.

“Thank you Suga-chan.” Oikawa let go off him.

“You’ll get used to it,” Suga promised with a smile and a nod.

“I don’t know if I’m comforted by that.”

“I know what you mean,” Suga agreed evenly. “You can lock the door whenever you feel like it. It’s fine.”

“No,” Oikawa shook his head. “It’s fine that it’s open.”

“But I want you to feel comfortable in your own home,” Suga pressed. “You can lock it whenever you feel like it. I promise it’s fine.”

“Alright,” Oikawa nodded, his eyes flitting back to the laptop.

Suga knew what that meant. “Don’t study too hard.” He patted Oikawa’s shoulder. “Goodnight Oikawa.”

“Goodnight Suga-chan.”

Suga flashed a little encouraging smile at Oikawa before he left him alone in the kitchen.

In his room, Suga took off his jacket and shirts, before pulling on one of the shirts Terushima had left. It still smelled of him. He knew that was as good as it was going to get for the night. And for the next couple of days.

It wasn’t the first time they wouldn’t see each other for days. But something about it bothered Suga this time. He just couldn’t quite figure out why, couldn’t pinpoint the cause of the kneading feeling in his gut.

He would need a distraction. Maybe Oikawa could help with that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been the pain of my existence ever since I wrote it and reread it and edited it. It's just... I just... Blaaah... I just couldn't look at it anymore.  
> And it mainly exists because I wanted to push off writing something that I have to write but really don't want to... 
> 
> Oh, and the shovel-joke. It's not meant to be got. It's from my personal experience. The first time I heard it, it really made me laugh. And I HAVE NO IDEA WHY. I literally have no idea why I found it so funny.  
> *looks at the camera with big wide eyes* I'm so weird.  
> Anyhoo, to be continued:  
> Hanamaki and Matsukawa make an appearance and Suga confides in Asahi


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set up chapter for the next chapters

 

“The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected.”

 

* * *

 

“Morning Suga,” Hinata said with a wide smile when he came into the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Morning Hinata. No thank you.” Suga sat by the kitchen island and watched Hinata put the coffee maker on. "Do you want me to check up on Kenma later today?"

"Could you?" Hinata turned to ask.

"Of course," Suga promised. "I'll make sure he eats too."

"Thank you Suga."

"Don't mention it." Suga waved his hand dismissively. Making sure that Kenma slept and ate would ease his worry, too. He leaned his face in his hands, blocking out the light in the kitchen. It was too hard on his sleepy eyes.

“You’re up early again,” Hinata observed.

“It’s a habit by now. Yuuji always wakes up early and I like to wake up when he does.”

“Is Terushima-san here?”

“No, he’s been at that conference thing.” Suga lifted his head and cradled his chin on his hands.

“Oh, yeah,” Hinata seemed to remember. “Was it weird with him being away?”

“A little. It’s been a long while since the last time we didn’t see each other for days.”

“I know what you mean,” Hinata nodded and poured coffee for himself. “I don’t think I’ve gone longer than one day without seeing Kenma ever since we moved in together.”

Suga smiled at the thought of the two of them spending every day together. “You look happy, Hinata.”

Hinata beamed. “I am,” he said, leaning to the island.

“Good,” Suga nodded. He heard a familiar creak coming from the hallway before he could add anything else. He looked towards the hallway, waiting. In a matter of seconds, Oikawa shuffled in.

“Please tell me you made coffee,” Oikawa yawned.

“Hinata just made some,” Suga answered.

"Morning Oikawa-san." Hinata smiled at the man.

"Hey, Hinata," Oikawa greeted back and yawned again. He sat next to Suga and leaned his head on his shoulder.

Suga looked down in mild surprise of the physical contact and noticed that Oikawa’s eyes were closed.

“Did we wake you up?” He asked, worried that he and Hinata had been speaking too loudly.

“No. I have an early meeting with a professor, I had to wake up early.” Oikawa answered. “Suga-chan, can you pour me a cup?”

“Not when you’re leaning into me like that.”

Oikawa let out a grumbled whine. Suga bit back the laugh he felt bubbling in him.

“Hinata?” Suga asked and he poured coffee into another cup, adding milk and sugar, and set it down in front of Oikawa. Suga smiled at the knowledge that Hinata knew how Oikawa drank his coffee.

Oikawa didn't make a move towards the cup, however, and Suga watched the steam rise and disappear in the quiet of the kitchen. Even Hinata didn't try to make conversation.

“Do you have plans tonight Suga-chan?” Oikawa asked, dispelling the silent calm surrounding them.

“Yes, Yuuji comes back today.”

“Does that mean that the apartment’s going to be empty tonight again?”

Suga thought for a moment before he answered. “Yes.”

“Alright,” Oikawa nodded against Suga’s shoulder and straightened to sit up to drink his coffee.

Suga looked at him and noted how tired he looked. He must’ve stayed up late again, making up for the time he had lost on distracting Suga from missing Terushima. Suga knew he should make it up to Oikawa.

“I have to go so I won’t be late,” Hinata spoke up, drawing Suga’s attention. He hadn't noticed how quickly Hinata had been drinking his coffee.

“Have a nice day at work,” he wished.

“Thanks,” Hinata smiled brightly and put his cup into the sink. “Text me when you see Kenma.”

“I will.” Suga waved and turned back to look at Oikawa when the front door closed.

“Why does he look so chipper and happy so early in the morning?” Oikawa asked, looking down to his coffee.

“He’s used to waking up early, I guess.” Suga shrugged. It would make sense, after waking up early for three years by now. “Do you have any plans for tonight?”

“Not really. Just studying, writing, the usual.”

“Remember to take breaks too,” Suga reminded him. “Or you’ll fry your brain.”

“I will.”

"Promise?"

"I promise," Oikawa smiled sleepily.

Suga studied his face and decided to believe him. “I’m going to make breakfast,” he said, patting Oikawa's shoulder, encouraging him to meet the early morning with his head held up high. “Do you want some?”

“Sure.” Oikawa nodded and finished his coffee. Suga took his cup to pour more for him.

“How did you know I wanted more coffee?” Oikawa asked.

“You always drink two cups in the morning,” Suga answered simply. He had noticed it during the first weeks Oikawa had stayed in the apartment and the fact that he had kept drinking two cups every morning since, had cemented the knowledge of it.

“I do,” Oikawa said slowly, studying Suga.

“Why do you look so alarmed that I noticed it?”

“I guess... I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Suga smiled. “Give me more credit Oikawa. We live together, I’m not blind.”

Oikawa didn’t say anything to that, but a slow grin appeared on his face and Suga wondered what had he just inadvertently implied. He sweetened the coffee like he knew Oikawa liked to drink it and handed the cup back to Oikawa.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Suga smiled back. “So, what do you feel like eating?”

“Anything’s fine with me.”

“Okay.” Suga turned towards the fridge.

“But I’ll help you make it.”

Suga looked at Oikawa. Even though he didn’t need the help, he welcomed it. And he wasn’t about to start arguing about it, insisting that Oikawa didn’t need to help when the man looked so resolved about it.

“Okay,” Suga nodded.

That’s how they ended up making breakfast together the first time, falling into it easily, just like they had the first time they had cooked dinner together.

Suga found it fun, cozy, comfortable and every other adjective one would use to describe a morning like that.

 

...

 

The next morning, Suga woke up in Terushima’s bed, the last morning spent cooking with Oikawa not forgotten, but pushed to the side for time being. He would come to treasure that memory in the years to come.

Suga opened his eyes just a crack. There was a small illumination next to him.

He squinted against it in the early morning darkness and saw Terushima frowning at his phone again. It wasn’t an angry frown, but confused and desperate. Like he was trying to figure something out, like something was tearing him in two.

He had looked like that last night too, when his phone had beeped with a message. And something had been wrong. It wasn’t just that they had missed each other the last couple of days. Terushima’s kisses and touches had been needier and more hurried and they had been so consumed in each other and in everything they were feeling and trying to feel, that there hadn’t been any laughter.

“Something’s wrong,” Suga stated it as a fact. He knew it was true, but Terushima wouldn’t tell what the “it” was.

Terushima turned his head towards him and the frown disappeared immediately when his eyes landed on Suga. It was replaced by a tender smile.

Suga was still tired, his eyes slowly blinking as he tried to focus them on Terushima.

“You’re adorable when you’ve just woken up,” he spoke quietly, his fingers brushing Suga’s hair off his forehead. He leaned in and gave a small kiss on Suga’s lips.

“And you keep frowning at your phone. Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?” Suga frowned trying to focus his eyes to stay open.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Terushima assured with a smile. “Well, lots of things in the world are wrong. But everything with me is fine.”

Suga wanted to believe him.

Terushima turned to his side to put the phone on the bedside table. Suga moved to press his chest against Terushima’s back and wrapped his arm around his waist. He kissed Terushima’s neck and then pressed his forehead against his head.

Terushima held onto the arm around his waist. He let out a deep contented sigh.

“You’d tell me if something is wrong, wouldn’t you?” Suga asked in a hushed voice.

“Of course.”

The answer didn’t come right away, but Suga’s slight worry about it was quelled when Terushima slid his fingers between Suga’s and curled them together.

“When do you have to get up?” Suga asked.

“When you get up.”

Suga smiled and closed his eyes, taking in Terushima’s scent in a deep breath. 

 

…

 

Oikawa was studying the contents of their almost empty fridge.

Since the couple of days when Suga hadn’t seen Terushima, about a week ago, Suga had been gone most nights. Oikawa presumed that they were making up for the lost time.

It was sweet.

It made Oikawa want to reach out to Kageyama.

He was deliberating on that when his phone rang.

He smiled when he read the caller’s name on the blinking screen of his phone.

“Iwa-chan! Haven’t heard of you for a while,” he chirped.

“And it’s your fault.” Iwaizumi’s voice was gruff, but Oikawa could hear him smiling. Classic Iwa-chan.

“How is it my fault that I’ve been busy with school?”

“And with your neighbors.” Iwaizumi sighed. “I was a little afraid that that would happen when you moved in with Suga.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

Oikawa wondered what Iwaizumi had meant. Why would it be worrisome for him to make new friends? Good friends? Shouldn’t Iwaizumi encourage it? But before Oikawa could ask him about the sudden dismissal of their conversation topic, Iwaizumi spoke again.

“Do you think you’ll be busy tomorrow?”

Yes, he was busy tomorrow. But could he tell it to Iwaizumi without him demanding to know with what? He didn’t like lying to Iwaizumi. He might omit some aspects of his personal life, but he’d never lie.

“Depends on what you want.”

“Just hanging out.” Oikawa could imagine Iwaizumi shrugging with his words. “Take out and a movie. We haven’t done that for a while and it’d be nice to see you.”

It would be nice to see Iwaizumi. Really nice.

But he had already made plans. Maybe he could push them back? Or hang out with Iwaizumi after he had seen Kageyama.

“Oikawa?”

He realized that he hadn’t said anything for a while.

“Sorry. I was just trying to remember what I have tomorrow.”

“We can set up another day too.”

Iwaizumi’s voice was kind and Oikawa’s heart stuttered. He hadn’t heard that voice in years.

“No, no. Tomorrow’s fine,” he hurried to answer and closed his eyes in regret a second later.

Why did he say that?

“Great.” Iwaizumi sounded pleased. “Do you mind if Daichi’s there too?”

Oikawa turned his head from his phone and sighed in relief. Daichi would be a welcome distraction and a buffer. Oikawa had come to a decision about telling Iwaizumi about Kageyama. So, why not do it tomorrow? It was a good day as any.

“Of course not,” he turned back to his phone.

“You could ask Suga to come too.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask, but he might be busy.”  

Iwaizumi chuckled at the change in Oikawa’s voice. Suga was going to be with Terushima, Oikawa just knew it.

“What time can I come and grace you and Daichi with my ever-lovely presence?”

“Is seven o’clock ok?”

Oikawa went through his schedule again. Yes, that would work perfectly.

“It is. Do you need me to bring something?”

“No need. I’ll see you tomorrow Oikawa.”

“Yep. Bye Iwa-chan.” Oikawa hung up, leaning back on his desk chair.

He stared up at the ceiling. He could manage to see Kageyama between school and Iwaizumi. Or he could blow Kageyama off.  Or go see Kageyama after he left Iwa-chan and Daichi’s. He sighed and straightened his back to type a message.

 

...

 

Iwaizumi put his phone down on the table and hung his head back.

“Is he coming?” Daichi turned his head to look at him over his shoulder. 

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi rubbed his eyes.

“He’s going to be angry at me.” Daichi turned his head back to the book he was reading.

“I’m not going to tell him that you told me.”

“He’s going to guess.”

Iwaizumi stood up from his work table and walked over to Daichi.

“Well, I’m a little mad at him too,” he said and sat down, lifting Daichi’s legs into his lap.

“It was his secret though.”

“And it was an accident that I found out.” Iwaizumi put his hand under Daichi’s chin and lifted it to look him in the eye. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Daichi held the eye contact, searching for assurance.

“You didn’t even tell me, not really.” Iwaizumi moved his hand to the back of Daichi’s head and curled his fingers in his hair. “I overheard you.”

Daichi’s eyes pressed closed. “He’s going to be angry at Suga too.”

Iwaizumi chuckled.

“Haven’t we already established that it’s impossible for anyone to get mad at Suga? The man is too genuine to get angry with,” Iwaizumi said, curling and unfurling his fingers in Daichi’s hair. “Besides, _Suga_ can handle himself.”

Daichi huffed in amusement.

“And if Oikawa gets angry with you, I’ll defend you.” He smiled reassuringly and kissed Daichi on the lips. “I promise.”

“So what you are saying is that I can’t defend myself? I’m not exactly a defenseless baby bird here and even if I was, I think I could take on Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi chuckled. “I’m sure you could.” He smiled with overflowing affection for his boyfriend. Of course he wasn’t a defenseless anything, not with those thighs.

Daichi answered his smile with a similar one. Iwaizumi moved his hand on Daichi’s thigh up and down in a soothing motion.

“I’m just going to give him a kick on the ass for not telling me earlier and we’ll eat and watch a movie.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here then.”

Iwaizumi was having none of that talk. He wanted Daichi to be there.

“No, you definitely should. I’m not going to let my ex-boyfriend drive away my current one. That’s not happening.”

Iwaizumi brought Daichi’s lips against his with his hand at the back of his head.

“I want you to be here.”

He pressed their foreheads together and sighed in the feel of his boyfriend in his arms.

 

...

 

Oikawa had spent another night alone in the apartment.

He didn’t mind. It was quiet and tranquil and it made focusing on his school work easier. But it was too quiet at times too.

He was drinking his second cup of coffee that morning; the first one had been enjoyed with Kuroo who had forgotten to buy more to his own apartment.

Clinking keys outside the front door drew Oikawa’s attention. Was that the sound that had pulled Suga and Terushima apart from each other whenever he came home?

It was a clear tell that someone was coming and Oikawa wondered if Suga was doing it on purpose now when the door opened.

“Well, well,” Oikawa said when Suga closed the front door.

Suga turned to look at him in surprise. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see Oikawa.

“Did we spend the night with our boyfriend again?” Oikawa smirked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Suga sighed with a smile, his eyes softening.

God, the man was so in love. It was plain to see and Oikawa wondered who long it would take for Suga and Terushima to move in together. A month? Two? Maybe six?

“I swear Suga-chan. You’re more at his place than you are at home.”

Oikawa noticed the funny tilt in Suga’s walk as he came to stand across of him by the kitchen island. His smirk widened.

“You’re limping.”

“It’s not what you think,” Suga said with a calm voice as he took his jacket off. Oikawa recognized the shirt Suga was wearing as one of Terushima’s. It must’ve been convenient to just wear each other’s shirts when they were similar size. Oikawa absently wondered how Suga would look in one of his shirts.

“I think it is.”

“I fell from a bed.”

“Sure, I always use that excuse too.” Oikawa kept smirking. 

Suga rolled his eyes. “I really did fall out of bed and it wasn’t during sex.”

“Okay, I pretend to believe you.” Oikawa schooled his smirk into an expression of serious attentiveness.

Suga let out a burst of laughter at the sight.

“Don’t you have some place to be?” He asked then, leaning his arms against the kitchen island.

Oikawa looked at the clock on the microwave that was always 8 minutes ahead of time.

It was mysterious.

He had corrected that clocked three times after he had moved in and somehow it always ended up 8 minutes fast.

Suga had denied changing the time when Oikawa had blamed him, saying that it had always done that. He had delved into a story of how he had corrected the time every day when he first bought the microwave, and how on every morning the time was wrong again and how he had just given up after the 12th shaman had left the apartment screaming about cursed teddy bears and flying unicorns.

Oikawa suspected the truth of that story.

He blamed aliens.  

Suga had listened attentively to Oikawa’s theory and smiled at his verdict on the curious case of their seemingly possessed microwave clock.

Oikawa liked how sweet Suga looked with that smile.

“Not for another 10 minutes. I’m all free to tease you. So, tell me. What position were you in when you fell off the bed?” Oikawa leaned forward on the kitchen island.

“You spend too much time with Kuroo,” Suga deadpanned.

“Impossible,” Oikawa denied the statement easily, flipping his hair off his eyes. “Come on, tell me. I bet you’re dying to talk about Terushima with someone.”

He was offering to listen with utmost seriousness. He could be that friend to Suga. Everyone else seemed more likely to tease Suga than actually listen to him.

Suga regarded him for a while. Oikawa could see the thoughts running in Suga’s eyes. Oikawa was pleased that he was considering it.

“You’re just offering so you can tease me about it later.”

“I really wouldn’t,” Oikawa pressed. “I’m serious. I’d just listen and I’d offer advice or opinion if you asked for them.”

Suga was still wavering.

“Whatever you told me would stay between us.”

Oikawa saw Suga’s eyes move to the clock and back to him. “Maybe some other time.”

“Okay, well, you know where to find me.” Oikawa got up to put his coffee cup into the sink. He could wash it later.

“Thanks for the offer.”

Oikawa turned to look at Suga as he put his coat on. The thank-you was plain to see on Suga’s expression.

“You’d do the same for me,” Oikawa shrugged.

“I would.”

Oikawa nodded. Suga had said as much once. Oikawa remembered how Suga had offered to be a sounding board, an ear, or whatever if Oikawa ever wanted to talk about the guy he was seeing. Yeah, he hadn’t even told Suga Kageyama’s name.

Maybe he should open up about Kageyama first. Maybe that way Suga would open up about Terushima.

“Well, I better go. I probably won’t come home tonight.” He had plans with Kageyama and with Iwa-chan and Daichi.

“Have fun,” Suga wished sincerely when Oikawa opened the front door.

“Bye,” Oikawa smiled and closed the door after him.

 

...

 

Oikawa’s last class for the day had just ended and his professor had looked relived that Oikawa had finally come up with an idea for his dissertation.

He was feeling good about himself. He was hoping that that feeling would carry on through the day, especially since he was going to tell Iwaizumi about Kageyama tonight.

As he turned around the corner to go down the stairs, his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure.

Kageyama

Oikawa turned away from the stairs and went to the man, who was standing a little way away.

Oikawa took notice of his body language – shoulder leaning to a wall, arms crossed in front of his chest, expression hard and closed off. He looked pissed off and Oikawa smirked. He had been there for a while already.

Kageyama eyes trained on Oikawa when he neared.

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa asked. He was hopeful, but he checked it away from his voice. He hoped that Kageyama was there to see him, waiting for him.

“I had a meeting with a professor.” Kageyama answered easily. Oikawa didn’t fully believe him. He could see the thin layer in Kageyama’s eyes hiding something.

So, Oikawa waited. He counted two breaths while he studied Kageyama’s stunning blue eyes.

“And I knew your class was ending soon,” Kageyama added.

Oikawa bit back a pleased smile.

“So, you waited to see me?”

Kageyama shrugged, his arms still crossed.

“Come with me.” Oikawa took Kageyama’s arm and pulled him around the corner to a more hidden spot.

He pinned Kageyama against the wall, hands on his hips, and pressed his lips against Kageyama’s.

Kageyama sighed into the kiss, his hands fluttering around Oikawa’s shoulders and neck.

Oikawa prodded Kageyama’s lips gently with his tongue for an entrance.

“My, my, what do we have here?”

Oikawa’s eyes flew open. He recognized that voice, the teasing lilt. He leaned away from Kageyama, his lips pressed tight together, and turned to the voice. Kageyama’s hands slid off from Oikawa. He could see from his side-eye Kageyama look at the newcomers with a scowl.

“It looks like we’ve interrupted a precious moment.” Hanamaki had his arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked between Oikawa and Kageyama.

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa asked with annoyance.

“Maybe we should let them get back to what they were doing?” Matsukawa suggested, looking to Hanamaki.

Hanamaki turned to look at Matsukawa. “Do you really want them to go to jail for indecent exposure?”

“Do you really think they’d go that far?”

“Depends.” Hanamaki turned back to Oikawa and Kageyama. “Are you two dating?”

“I should go,” Kageyama said with a sullen voice and stepped around Oikawa.

Oikawa watched him go with regret, but didn’t make a move to stop him.

“I don’t think we should’ve asked that just now,” Matsukawa thought out loud, little too late.  

“No, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? He looked a little upset.” Matsukawa furrowed his brow in worry.

“He always looks like that.” Oikawa waved his hand. “Besides, we’re not really dating.”

“Right, cause I always kiss my friends like that too.” Hanamaki said with sarcasm.

Oikawa didn’t appreciate it.

“Does he know that you’re not really dating?” Matsukawa asked. His brow was still furrowed as he studied Oikawa.

“Why are you here?” Oikawa demanded to know again.

“What? We’re not allowed come and see our friend?”

“You could’ve let me know.”

Hanamaki smirked. “But then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes and started to go down the stairs. Hanamaki and Matsukawa caught up to him quickly.

“Does Iwaizumi know that you’re locking lips with someone?” Matsukawa asked.

Oikawa looked to the side at him, to read his expression. It wasn’t worried anymore.

“No, not yet,” Oikawa said it in a low tone. “And you’re not going to tell him,” he added in case they didn’t get it from his tone.

“Of course not,” Hanamaki said. “But you should.”

They stepped outside the building.

Oikawa sighed. He knew that, he had decided to do that. “I know.”

“Are you going to?” Matsukawa asked.

“Well, I was going to, but since you’re pestering me about it, I think I’ll push it off for another week or two.”

Hanamaki scoffed. “There was no pestering.”

“You know that Iwaizumi is going to be happy for you,” Matsukawa said.

Oikawa did know that. It didn’t mean that it made telling him any easier, though. At least not in Oikawa’s mind.

“Do you want go for coffee?” Oikawa offered. He knew a great place pretty close to the university. And since he obviously wasn’t going to spend his afternoon with Kageyama, he might as well treat his friends.

"If you’re paying,” Hanamaki grinned.

 

...

 

Oikawa took them to Terushima’s coffee shop. He had been there many times, ever since it first opened two years ago, and he liked the place. It was warm and inviting, the coffee was good and so was everything else.

It was pure coincidence that Suga happened to be dating the coffee shop’s owner and it wasn’t going to stop Oikawa from going there. Besides, Terushima wasn’t always there.

But he was today.

Oikawa watched with mild interest how Terushima served the customers while they waited in the line. He was thinking of greeting the man even though he wasn’t working the cash register. Hanamaki and Matsukawa spoke around him, but he wasn’t paying attention.

Because Oikawa realized that Terushima wasn’t just talking to the customer, but flirting with him.

Oikawa took in the guy he was flirting with and he wondered if Terushima flirted like that with all of the customers, or only with this guy. He wondered if Suga knew.

“Oikawa.”

“Earth to Oikawa.”

Oikawa blinked his eyes from Terushima and the guy.

“Where’d you go to?” Hanamaki asked.

“Nowhere.”

“So, you weren’t just staring that guy?” Matsukawa gestured with his chin towards Terushima.

Oikawa tilted his head with annoyance when he looked at Matsukawa.

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Fine,” Hanamaki nodded. “Just intently watching.”

“He’s Suga-chan’s boyfriend.”

That got their attention and they turned to look at Terushima with new interest.

“Are you sure about that?” Hanamaki’s voice was doubtful. Oikawa could understand it. He must’ve noticed the flirting too.

“Yeah,” Oikawa nodded.

“He’s obviously flirting with that guy.”

They turned back to look at Oikawa with hundred questions in their eyes.

He shook his head and looked away from Terushima. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Suga and Terushima are so in love it’s gross.”

Matsukawa chuckled.

“By the way, how’s living with Suga?” Hanamaki changed the subject.

This must have been the twentieth time they asked that question since September. 

“It’s alright.”

“What’s he like?”

Another twentieth question.

“Suga?”

“Yeah. Or is there another roommate as well?”

Sometimes it did feel like that, with all their neighbors coming and going like they lived there.

“He seems adorable,” Matsukawa mused.

“He is adorable,” Oikawa agreed, but... “He’s also basically the devil.”

Hanamaki chuckled. “The devil? How so?”

“I don’t know, he just is. You’d have to know him better to get it.”

Matsukawa raised his eyebrows in question. “Tell me Oikawa, are you alone in that opinion?”

“No. Everyone in the building thinks that. And it’s pretty much word for word how Daichi first described Suga to me.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa laughed and Oikawa stepped forward in the line to order for them.

Oikawa sneaked a glance at Terushima. The guy he had been flirting with was gone. Terushima met his eyes and smiled and nodded in greeting.

Oikawa nodded back and payed for their coffees. He was glad that there was nothing to worry about for Suga.  

“Have you guys found an apartment yet?” Oikawa asked when he sat down.

“We have,” Hanamaki answered and took a sip of his coffee.

“That’s great.” Oikawa was pleased for his friends. “Where are you moving?”

“It’s a secret,” Hanamaki answered again.

“Then how can I come and pass on my judgement on your choice of a suitable apartment?”

“You can’t.” Matsukawa smiled.

“We’ll invite you over once we’ve gotten settled. Provided that we’re invited to see your new apartment too.”

“Sure, whatever.” Oikawa waved his hand. He hadn’t meant to keep his friends away. He had just gotten busy and wrapped up in everything happening in the building. “When are you moving?”

“In a little over a week.”

“Do you need help with it?”

“And spoil the surprise and secret? No way,” Hanamaki said.

“We got it anyway. You’re not our only friend,” Matsukawa assured Oikawa.

“If you say so,” Oikawa said and finished his coffee. He wanted more and he pondered on whether to get another cup when he felt his phone buzz in a short burst in his pocket with an incoming message.

“Let me know if you do need help.” Oikawa smiled at his friends and pulled his phone out to read the message. It was from Suga.

 

_Can I eat your onigiri that’s just sitting all alone in the fridge?_

 

Oikawa smiled and answered.

 

_Yes_

 

“Why are you smiling?” Hanamaki asked. “Was that from the guy you were making out with?”

“No,” Oikawa answered and read another message from Suga.

 

_I’ll go grocery shopping today. Is there anything you want me to get?_

 

Oikawa thought for a second before he answered.

 

_No_

 

“Then who are you texting with a smile like that?”

Oikawa looked up from his phone to two pairs of eyes studying him with interest.

“What smile?”

His phone buzzed with a third message.

 

_With a word count like this, we could write a book_

 

Oikawa’s smile widened with amusement.

“That smile.” Hanamaki pointed towards him.

Oikawa swallowed down his smile with effort and pocketed his phone. “How’s work?” He changed the subject and he was grateful that Hanamaki and Matsukawa let him. 

 

...

 

Oikawa ended up spending the afternoon with Hanamaki and Matsukawa until they had to go pack once again. Apparently they didn’t want to see Oikawa as much as they just needed a breather from the packing.

He knew he was early when he rang Iwaizumi and Daichi’s doorbell, but he didn’t want to bother with going home and leaving straight away again. This was more sensible.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed, overdoing the chipper in his voice when the door opened.

“Almost,” Daichi chuckled and let Oikawa in.

“Is Iwa-chan home?” Oikawa took off his coat and hung it by the door and followed Daichi to the living room.

“Yeah,” Daichi answered and sat down on the couch. He had been playing Super Smash Bros. “He’s on the phone with his mom.”

Oikawa grimaced. “When did she call?”

Daichi glanced at the clock on the wall. “About 20 minutes ago. I’m sure he’ll be done soon.”

“Can I tag in?”

“Sure.” Daichi threw the other controller to the armchair for Oikawa. “How’s school?”

“Kind of busy.”

“And the dissertation?”

Oikawa sighed. Everyone always wanted to know about that. “Well, I finally have an idea for it and I discussed it with my professor.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, when it actually felt like a huge rock had been lifted from his shoulders. Thank you Suga-chan!

“All I got to do is write it.”

“Isn’t that the hardest part, though?” Daichi asked, beating Oikawa left and right on the game.

“I don’t know. I haven’t – damn it.” Oikawa stopped in middle of his sentence when Daichi won. “I haven’t started yet.”

Oikawa saw from his side-eye Daichi glance at him.

They started another fight on the screen.

“I know most of the guys who live in your building pretty well. I don’t think they’d mind it if you told them to beat it so you can concentrate. Or, I don’t know, if you locked the door.”

Oikawa knew he could do that. Suga had said it too.

But they weren’t the reason why he hadn’t started writing yet. No, it was the fact that the start was the hardest part. He was sure, that once he did start, everything else would come on its own, just flow out of him. That’s how it was with every essay he had written.

“It’s not them.” Oikawa shook his head. “Come on!”

Daichi won again. He was smirking.

“How are you so good at this game? Do you do anything else than play it all day long?”

Daichi chuckled. “I’m not even that good.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows. “Could have fooled me.”

Daichi chuckled again. “Don’t feel bad. I usually beat Hajime too.”

“No, you don’t,” Iwaizumi said as he conveniently came from the bedroom right then.

“I do.”

“You really don’t.”

“I really do.”

“Please spare me from your foreplay,” Oikawa interrupted them.

They both turned to look at him, their cheeks reddening.

Oikawa’s eyes widened a little at the realization. He had been kidding, but oh my god, was this really some kind of foreplay for them.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “I’m going to order some food. Is the usual okay?”

Oikawa nodded. Daichi voiced his assent.

“Want to have another rematch?” Oikawa asked Daichi. He could’ve teased him a little, but he kind of wanted to be nice today.

“Think you’ll beat me this time?”

“Definitely.” Oikawa put his game-face on and leaned forward in the armchair.

Daichi chuckled at his seriousness as they selected the battlefield. Iwaizumi’s voice lofted from the kitchen as he ordered.

“Oh, by the way,” Daichi said as Oikawa was finally, _finally,_ going to win. “Hajime knows.”

Oikawa froze. Daichi won again.

“Knows what?” Oikawa wanted to make sure, although he had pretty good idea what Iwaizumi knew. And Daichi had just said that then on purpose.

“About the guy you’re seeing. Dating. Whatever it is that you’re doing,” Daichi said casually, but there was a tense look in his eyes.

“If you want to appear the bigger person, tell him before he brings it up,” Daichi advised and stood up. “Want to play Mario Kart?”

Oikawa finally regained his senses. “How did he find out? Did you tell him?”

“Is that a no for Mario Kart?” Daichi asked. He was stalling.

“Food’s ordered,” Iwaizumi said as he came back to the living room.

“Iwaizumi, I have something to tell you.” Oikawa spoke suddenly. 

“You called me Iwaizumi.”

“I know.” Oikawa sat up straighter on the armchair. “Sit down.”

He saw Iwaizumi look to Daichi, who was selecting a new game, and back to Oikawa.

“Okay.” Iwaizumi sat down on the couch. “What’s up?”

Oikawa didn’t like the look on Iwaizumi’s face. Like he knew exactly what Oikawa was going to say.

Here goes nothing, then.

“I’ve been seeing this guy.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi nodded. There was an invitation to continue on his voice, but also an acknowledgment that this would be enough information if Oikawa didn’t want to elaborate.

So, Oikawa chose door number three.

“You already know,” he accused.

“Yeah, kind of,” Iwaizumi continued in the same tone, holding the eye contact.

“Did Daichi tell you?” Oikawa pointed towards the man.

Iwaizumi thought for a beat and then picked up the third controller. “If you pick the Rainbow Road again, I’m eating your food,” he said to Daichi who was sitting next to him now.

Daichi chuckled. “I’d like to see you try.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. They were purposefully dodging his question. It was as a clear admission.

“Daichi told you,” he stated the fact.

Iwaizumi turned his head to look at him. “Do you want to be Peach?”

Oikawa whined, but picked up his controller.

So, Iwaizumi knew. It didn’t matter. It was actually good.

But did it change what he had with Kageyama? Would it change it?

Daichi won again.

“So, since we know about the guy, can you tell us something about him?” Iwaizumi asked.

“No. You’ve lost all personal-information-sharing privileges with me.”

“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi asked. “Aren’t you dying to tell us?” There was a hint of incredulity in his voice.

Oikawa smirked. They were dying _to know._ But he wasn’t dying to tell. He had decided to tell Iwaizumi about Kageyama, that the man existed, but he had also decided to keep the information as vague as possible.

“Not really. There isn’t much to tell anyway.”

Oikawa could feel Iwaizumi’s eyes looking at him, studying him.

“I want another race,” Oikawa announced. “I’m going to beat you this time.”

And he did finally win. The seventh race they played. He had an uneasy feeling that they let him win.

“By the way, did you ask Suga to come?” Iwaizumi asked.

“No,” Oikawa answered and met Iwaizumi’s eyes. “If you wanted Suga to come, I figured _you,”_ Oikawa fixed his eyes on Daichi, “would ask him to come. Since he’s your best friend.”

“I did ask. He said he was busy.”

“Terushima-san?” Iwaizumi asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t go into particulars, just said that he was busy.” Daichi shrugged, nonplussed by Suga’s lack of explanation.

Oikawa sometimes wondered how laidback Daichi could be about Suga. Didn’t he ever worry about him? How could he blindly trust that Suga would tell whenever there was something that required telling without prompting him to?

“Well, Suga was with him last night,” Oikawa thought to say.

“Do you see them together at all at the apartment?”

“A little bit. It’s disgusting how happy and in love they are.” Oikawa crinkled his nose.

Iwaizumi chuckled.

“Suga does seem really happy with him,” Daichi agreed. “He’s always smiling when he’s talking about Terushima-san.”

“They do laugh a lot.” Oikawa thought back to the times he had observed the two together. “And it’s sweet how they just get each other.”

“Hmm...” Daichi smiled, pleased by this bit of information.

Oikawa knew that Daichi had met Terushima only once, and that was about a month ago.

He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like, to see your best friend happy, but not know anything about the reason what made him happy. To just stand on the sidelines and see a sliver of a relationship that clearly meant the world to your best friend.

But Daichi didn’t seem to mind. There was a deeper understanding and trust between Suga and Daichi and no one could touch it, not come even close. They were there for each other and they could talk about anything without shame or fear. And they were there for each other even if they weren’t needed, patiently waiting and standing by as steady as a rock for the day they were needed.

Oikawa envied it a little.

Sure, he and Iwaizumi were best friends too, but their history together as a couple sometimes hindered it a little. Oikawa couldn’t be as open with Iwaizumi as Daichi and Suga were with each other.

But he still wouldn’t change a single aspect of his friendship with Iwaizumi. What they had worked for them and it was more than enough. It was all Oikawa ever wanted to ask for and he got it.

“They also have a lot of sex,” Oikawa said it out of left field, but he really needed to vent to someone about it. “Like, a lot a lot.”

Daichi sputtered his drink.

 

...

 

“Hey Suga,” Asahi said when he opened the door.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” Asahi let Suga in and closed the door after him. “You’re limping.”

“I’m fine. I just fell from a bed.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I was getting up in middle of a night and my feet got caught in the sheets,” Suga explained, thinking back how he had hit the floor hip first.

“Does it hurt much? I can give you something for that.”

“No, it doesn’t hurt, really. I’m fine. I’m just careful about it when I walk and that’s why it looks like I’m limping.”

“Are you sure?” Asahi asked again, looking a little worried, his hands hovering towards Suga, like he wanted to make sure that Suga didn’t suddenly trip or collapse.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Suga meant it. He took one of Asahi’s hands into his and squeezed it gently. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“If you’re sure,” Asahi said, but he didn’t look sure at all.

“I’m sure,” Suga smiled and let go off the hand. He really wasn’t hurting and he really was fine. “But I wouldn’t say no to a cup of tea.”

Asahi nodded and they made their way to his kitchen.

“Are you busy tonight?” Suga asked as he sat down by the table, eyeing the flowers growing by the window. He was pretty sure they were called gardenias.

“Not really?”

Suga noticed how Asahi’s voice got a little higher in the end. “You have plans then?”

“Um...” Asahi raised his hand to the back of his neck. He was uncomfortable and Suga could guess why.

“It’s fine if you have. You don’t have to tell me what plans,” he assured. “I just thought I’d ask.”

Asahi nodded and turned to make tea for them. “You don’t have any plans then?” He asked, his back turned to Suga.

“No. Daichi called and asked if I wanted to come and hang, though.”

“Are you going?” Asahi glanced over his shoulder.

“No. They’d just worry about my “limping” too.”

“You’re probably right.” Asahi turned back to look at what he was doing. “I’m assuming there’s no Terushima-san tonight either?”

“No, he has plans with his friend.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him these past days.”

“Is there something wrong with me spending time with my boyfriend?”

“No.” Asahi was quick to answer. “It was just an observation.”

Suga looked down at his hands that he had clasped on the table. He had been spending a lot of time with Terushima, it was true. But lately...

“Something keeps bothering him.” Suga hadn’t meant to bring it up, it had just slipped.

“Do you know what it is?”

“No. He won’t tell me.”

“Are you worried about it?” Asahi put down a cup of tea in front of Suga and sat down across from him.

“I try not to be.” Suga kept looking down at his hands, wrapping them around the cup. “But I am a little.”

“Do you have any ideas what it might be?”

“No.” Suga shook his head and sipped the tea.

“He’s still one employee down, isn’t he? Maybe it’s that,” Asahi suggested.

“Yeah, maybe,” Suga agreed, but he was most certainly sure that it wasn’t that. “I just wish he’d confide in me about it, whatever it is.”

“Give it time. I’m sure he will.”

“I hope you’re right.” Suga smiled a little.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all the readers who have stuck around this long with so little OiSuga in an OiSuga centric fic. You're all amazing!  
> *sighs in wonderment and utter gratitude of all the lovely comments and kudos*
> 
> The most disgusting words in the universe: to be continued


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There is no perfect ending to a relationship. No magic formula. Just a silent scream as they rip your fucking heart out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry
> 
> I made this a separate little chapter in case anyone wants to skip it. It gets sad.  
> So, if you want to spare yourselves from hurt and angst, please do so. Whatever happens here, is going to be mentioned in the next chapter, so you'll know what has happened. 
> 
> I am so, so sorry

 

“There is no perfect ending to a relationship. No magic formula. Just a silent scream as they rip your fucking heart out.” – Michael Faudet

 

* * *

 

Suga took a photo of a leaf falling to the ground. He took another photo when a gust of wind blew stray leaves on the ground in swirls. Everything was illuminated by the soft light of the setting sun.

It was a nice November day. It wasn’t cold with the sun shining, but it wasn’t exactly warm either. And the colors surrounding Suga at the park were stunning. He loved this time of the year.

“Hey.”

Suga turned around at the sound of Terushima’s voice.

“Hey,” he smiled at him.

“Good one?” Terushima referred to the photo Suga had just taken.

“I’m not sure yet.”

Suga really wasn’t sure if he had caught the swirl of the wind perfectly. He could always check immediately but something in Terushima’s expression made him lower his camera to his side. His smile faded into uncertainty as he took in Terushima’s expression.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

He had asked the question before many times, but he had never seen Terushima look so serious and crestfallen.

But he had seen the expression on other’s faces. He knew that it didn’t mean anything good. Something really was wrong.  

“We should sit down.”

Suga took in a deep breath and followed Terushima to the nearest empty bench and sat down, settling his camera in his lap.

He left more space between them than he normally would, taking note of Terushima’s body language – how he had his hands in his jacket pockets and how closed off he seemed, looking away from Suga.

_Oh no_

_No, don’t..._

_Don’t do this._

Suga knew what was coming and he didn’t want it to come. He didn’t want to hear the words. He had seen the same body language in his ex-boyfriends. He knew the signs by now.

_Please don’t say it_

Suga felt apprehension build inside him at the fear of what he knew he was about to hear.

But Terushima didn’t say anything.

Suga turned his head forward and closed his eyes. He felt the gentle wind blow and stir his hair, the leaves at his feet. He felt the sun on his skin.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look at Terushima. He was still looking straight ahead at nothing, so Suga decided to start it for him. It would only get worse if they prolonged this, if the tense silence between them stretched any longer.

“Did you meet somebody?”

That’s how it had happened with others and the memories came unbidden. The past hurt and disappointment.

_Please say no_

“Koushi I...” Terushima stopped and took a deep breath. Suga watched his chest rise and fall with it and he remembered how the movement felt under his body, under his hand.

Terushima still hasn’t looked at Suga since they sat down. It made this hurt even more, even though he hadn’t even said the words yet.

“It was months ago, and it’s not just that.” Terushima stopped again and Suga waited, trying to steel himself for what was coming.

“I feel like we’re in a standstill. We’re not moving forward and I’m not sure if there is forward for us.”

Suga didn’t agree, but he didn’t voice it either. The smallest part of him felt the same way as Terushima and it kept his tongue.

“So, you’re breaking up with me?” Suga asked quietly.

Terushima finally looked at Suga and the sadness in his eyes made his words thousand times worse. Suga closed his eyes from the sight.

“Koushi...” Terushima’s voice faded into the wind, carrying away not just the leaves, but their relationship as well.

They fell into silence again, but the life around them kept going, unaffected and uncaring of what was happening with the two of them. It felt wrong to hear a child’s laughter at a moment like this. It felt like a punch to the gut to see a couple walk by hand in hand.

Suga wasn’t ready to let go of him. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

“Is there any point in me trying to fight for this, for us?” he asked with a wavering voice, even though he knew the answer. If there was even a little sliver of hope, he would fight for them with teeth and nail.

The look in Terushima’s eyes was as good an answer as any.

Suga fought the tears he felt hot in his eyes. He fought the words he wanted to shout at Terushima. He fought the fight in him.

But he wanted to know, he _needed_ to know. He wanted to understand.

Suga carefully studied Terushima, his posture, the way he was worrying his lip, before he asked.

“Can you tell me about the person you met?”

“Koushi...” Terushima looked the other way, but Suga saw the hurt in him. It was the hurt one felt when they were hurting someone they cared about. It made this even more horrible.

“Please? For my peace of mind?” Suga asked quietly, playing with the strap of his camera. He didn’t look at Terushima, wanting to give him the time to gather up the courage to explain, but he heard the deep uneven breath Terushima took.

“I met him months ago,” Terushima started as quietly as Suga had asked. “But I had just met you and I wanted to see where that would go. And I’ve been so happy with you. I’ve never been happier about a decision as I was when I decided to ask you out.” Terushima stopped to take a breath. “Never been happier – ”

This was hard for him to tell and it was hard to hear too. It was hard to listen to Terushima talk, with his voice cracking, how happy he had been with Suga. 

“I didn’t keep in contact with him. We met once and that was it. But a couple of weeks ago he came to the coffee shop and we got to talking. And then I ran into him at his work and we got to talking again and...” Terushima kept talking in a quiet voice, and Suga could sense how hard he was trying to keep his voice steady.

“I... I’m so sorry Koushi. I am.” Terushima’s voice finally broke. “I care about you so much and I hate that I’m hurting you right now.” Terushima met Suga’s eyes again.

Suga wished he wouldn’t have. It made all the hurt tenfold, to see how torn Terushima was and Suga felt himself break from the steadily growing ache.

“I’m fine.” Suga looked away from Terushima. He was fighting so hard against the tears. He could feel little tremors travel under his skin.

“I can see your expression.” Terushima searched for his eyes. “You’re not fine. Neither am I.”

Terushima took a stuttered, broken breath. “I’m so sorry.”

_No_

_No,_ Suga thought.

He didn’t want to hear an apology. He didn’t need one.

“Stop apologizing,” he said softly. “This is what it is and we go forward separately.” Suga tried to sound assertive and strong, but his voice broke, betraying his resolve. 

“Koushi...”

He knew what was coming next. He wasn’t ready for it. He wasn’t strong enough to hear it now.

“I don’t want to lose you completely from my life.”

Suga pressed his eyes closed with force to ward off the tears he could feel pooling in the corner of his eyes. He squeezed the strap in his hand.

No crying yet. Not here, not now. 

He needed to leave.

He needed to leave _now,_ or he’d start crying in front of Terushima and he didn’t want to make him more sorry, he didn’t want to add anymore regret.

Suga didn’t want to make Terushima feel worse about his decision, about his feelings. It was a difficult decision he had made and Suga wanted to respect that.

“Bye Yuuji. I’ll... I’ll see you around,” Suga said, his voice faltering, and stood up. He didn’t want to make any promises, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see him for a while without hurting like this.

He braved one more look at Terushima.

He looked so sorry and broken it didn’t just break Suga’s heart. It mashed it into dust and rubble.

“I really hope that you’ll be happy with him too.” Suga honestly wished it. Terushima deserved happiness.  

He turned away at the sight of tears spilling from Terushima’s eyes and started to walk, his steps heavy and uncertain. Every cell in his body was screaming for Terushima, wanting to go back to him. He wanted to go back to Terushima and wrap his arms around him, feel his body against his. He wanted to kiss his lips again. He wanted to see him smile one more time.  

His body ached and he was trembling.

He loved Terushima so much it had scared him at times. He hadn’t realized why before, but now he got it.

His heart had been so full of happiness and love and now it was broken to pieces. There was nothing to hold the feelings in his heart contained and they were spilling out and spreading everywhere in his body. It made him hurt and ache and tremble and fear.

He let the tears fall free now that Terushima couldn’t see them anymore, trying to imperceptibly dry them in his jacket’s sleeve.

It had hurt before in the past, the break ups. But not like this, not even close. He had never ached like this.

Because he had never loved like this.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hands out tissues, wraps a blanket around and hugs tightly* 
> 
> I cried when I wrote this. I loved writing these two together. This was supposed to happen a lot sooner, according to my original draft and outline, but my hands slipped. I really did end up loving to write them together, which I didn't anticipate to happen. 
> 
> If you cried like I did, I'm here for hugs or whatever you need. 
> 
> If you didn't cry, and I understand why you didn't, you can come yell at me why this didn't happen way earlier. 
> 
> This is unedited because of tears. 
> 
> [ a pillow to scream into, a corner to cry at ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com/ask)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bits and pieces of moving forward pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still a bit heavy on the angst, I'm sorry

 

It was dark in the apartment when Suga got home. Either Oikawa was already asleep, or just in his room, or he was with the guy he was seeing. Suga walked quietly in the dark, in case Oikawa _was_ home. He didn’t want to alert the man to his presence, he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to do anything.

Suga didn’t even bother with any of the lights, knowing the way to his bedroom in the dark like the back of his hand.

He closed his room door carefully, taking his jacket off and laying it on the back of a chair. He tried to act on some semblance of normality, what he would normally do if he was coming home, even though he didn’t feel normal at all. He did the same with the rest of his clothes and pulled on his comfiest pajama pants and the softest shirt he owned.

He saw some of Terushima’s shirts in his closet and closed his eyes at the sight. He didn’t want to deal with them now.

He closed the closet door and slid to his bed, burying himself under his downy comforter.

His whole body ached.

He missed Terushima already.  

He missed his warmth, his smile, his gentle touches and soft lips.

He missed the way he smelled of coffee and cakes.  

He missed the way Terushima made him feel, safe and happy, loved.

He trembled and shivered, letting out a stuttering breath.

A tear fell and he let them come. It hurt too much to keep them in, it hurt too much to fight them.

But crying didn’t help. It seemed to only intensify all the hurt he was feeling.

He wanted to go back in time, to any time, just so he could change something, anything to prevent this from happening.

He wanted to fall asleep and wake up from this like it had never happened.

But sleep didn’t come and his tears dried away.

The ache never left or lessened.

 

...

 

Suga didn’t sleep. He watched the shadows on his ceiling move with the movement of the tree branches outside his window.

He remembered staying up late when he was younger and trying to take pictures of the shadow figures on his ceiling. He remembered that they all failed. Either it was too dark and the shadows couldn’t be seen on the photo, or it was too light with the flash and all he caught was the baby blue of his ceiling.

The ache didn’t let him fall asleep. It demanded to be noticed, it demanded to be felt.

Terushima came to his mind and he wanted to cry again.

He wanted to wake up next to him. He wanted to smell him again. He wanted to taste Terushima’s lips on his. He wanted to feel his touch on his skin. He wanted to see his smile and how it lit up his eyes. He wanted to hear his voice and the lilt of his teasing and his laughter.

How could one person feel both ends of the happiness spectrum in such a short time? He had been so happy yesterday to see Terushima. And then he had been so sad when he walked away from him.

And Terushima hadn’t called after him.

Suga could still see the hurt in Terushima’s eyes right before he had turned away.

Shivers run under his skin as his love poured out of his broken heart.

He didn’t want anyone to see him like this – broken and hurt.

He continued to lie in his bed, hugged tightly by his comforter, trying to push his aching and hurting body back together.

He could hear the faint sounds of Oikawa moving around in the apartment.

It was Saturday.

Suga tried not to think of last Saturday. He and Terushima had been lying in his bed, laughing. He had been so full of happy thoughts and feelings, joy and bright sunshine.

At some point in the morning – yes, it was still morning, the light was still pouring in through the window – Suga could hear muffled speak.

Kuroo had probably come into the apartment. He and Oikawa had become good friends and Suga was glad for that. He was glad for them.

It didn’t take long after that for the apartment to fall quiet again, at the sound of the front door closing.

 

...

 

“Why is it that you’re always wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt when I see you?” Oikawa asked when Kageyama opened the door for him.

The man seemed to already be in a foul mood and Oikawa’s comment didn’t seem to help at all. He turned away from the door and let Oikawa come in on his own, close the door and take his shoes off.

“Well, since we’re only having sex, that you don’t even tell your friends about, I didn’t think it mattered what I was wearing.”

Oikawa halted in his actions as he was taking off his jacket.

“Are you mad at me?” Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “This will make for great sex,” he said with a wicked grin and hung his jacket by the door.

“So I am just someone for you to fuck whenever you feel like it,” Kageyama stated it as a fact.

Oikawa looked at Kageyama and studied his angry expression, his crossed arms in front of his chest, the way he was leaning against his table with fake nonchalance.

Oikawa’s grin fell away as he sighed and went to Kageyama’s bed and fell to lie on it. He sighed again, weary by the world, as he looked at the ceiling, his eyes listlessly wandering across it. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He wanted sex, not a relationship. He didn’t need any defining for what they were to each other.

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa said, staring at the ceiling. “Do you tell your friends everything?”

“No.”

The answer didn’t come naturally after his question. Oikawa had to wait for it.  

“How many of your friends know about me?”

Oikawa waited again for Kageyama’s answer, but he didn’t give one.

“If you’d have asked me the same question, I would have answered the same way you did.” Oikawa stacked his hands under his head and crossed his ankles.

He heard Kageyama sigh. “So, is this just sex then?”

“Yes.”

Oikawa heard Kageyama’s steps as he neared the bed. Kageyama’s head was tilted down, but he could see that the man was brooding as he sat down.

“I just...” Kageyama started, but didn’t seem to have the words he wanted to say.

Oikawa could guess what he “just”.

“I don’t do relationships, Tobio-chan,” he stated. “If you want more than just sex, you have to find someone else. I can’t give you more than this.”

Kageyama turned his head a little to look at Oikawa from his side-eye.

“Am I the only one you’re having sex with?”

“Yes,” Oikawa answered casually. “And I better be the only one you’re having sex with too.” He pointed to Kageyama, his voice hinting at threatening.

Kageyama looked away. “You are.”

Oikawa was pleased. It was nice that Kageyama was exclusively his.

He let his hand fall on the bed, next to Kageyama’s hip. If he extended his fingers, he could slip them inside Kageyama’s waistband.

“If you want to start looking for someone else, for something more, let me know.” He wanted to give Kageyama an easy out. Just give a word and I won’t come around knocking anymore.

Kageyama shrugged. “It’s not like I’m looking for a relationship either.”

Then what was the point of this discussion? Why did they have to talk about it if either of them didn’t want more?

“Are you sure?”

Kageyama turned his head to look at Oikawa and held the eye contact. “Yes.”

“I’m not going to change my mind about this.”

“I know,” Kageyama nodded.

“Okay, then,” Oikawa said in a way to indicate the end of their discussion. They had come to an agreement, sort of. What they had was great sex, and that was all. And they only would have sex with it each other. And if Kageyama wanted more, he could go find it. No hard feelings.

“You’re still dressed.” Kageyama pointed out then, his face passive.

Okay?

“So are you?” Oikawa frowned with incomprehension. Why would Kageyama point out their clothed state?

“Yeah, but when you texted and said you wanted to come over I presumed that you’d be stripped naked in 30 seconds flat.”

Oikawa sat up and leaned back against his hands on the bed. “I would, but you were angry at me and it seemed more important.”

Kageyama’s eyebrows quirked up just a little in surprise.

“I have school stuff to finish,” he said and hurriedly got up.

Oikawa fell back down on the bed, exasperated. “Then why did you let me come today?”

“I’m out of lube too.”

They would need some. But Oikawa wasn’t above teasing the younger man about it. “That’s okay. I can eat you open.” He angled his head to see Kageyama sitting by his table. He grinned at the look on his face. He had just turned on the broody man with that one sentence.

“Or,” Kageyama stopped to clear his throat. Oikawa’s grin grew and turned smug at the sound. “You could go to the store to get some while I finish my essay.”

“Your school work is the worst cockblock I’ve ever known,” Oikawa bemoaned, his grin subsiding.

Kageyama merely shrugged and booted his laptop on. Oikawa didn’t usually initiate their meet-ups, and Kageyama must’ve guessed how much he needed sex, wanted it. Plus, they hadn’t seen each other for over a week, not since Hanamaki and Matsukawa had interrupted them at the university.

Oikawa sighed in frustration. Kageyama had gotten good at getting to Oikawa. He could thoroughly hold on his own against Oikawa, match him at every tease, verbal or physical. That was one of the reasons why he enjoyed sex with Kageyama. It wasn’t just the physical satisfaction, but the build up to it, the anticipation.

“Fine.” Oikawa flung himself off the bed. “I’ll go to the store.”

“Can you bring energy drinks too?” Kageyama asked, his eyes trained on his laptop, focused on what he was writing.

“Yeah, sure.” Oikawa agreed and bent down to put his shoes on. “But you better be done with that essay when I get back,” he added with a grave tone as he straightened up.

“We’ll see.”

“I could just as easily go home now too.” Oikawa crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder to the front door, fixing Kageyama with a raised eyebrow. He didn’t want to go home without sex, especially if Suga and Terushima were there again, but he also didn’t want to be the one to seem more eager.

Kageyama looked up to him across the apartment. He seemed to deliberate on it.

“Fine, I’ll be done when you get back.”

Oikawa nodded, victorious, and stepped out of the apartment.

 

...

 

Suga didn’t get out of his bed during the day.

He wasn’t hungry, or thirsty. His body didn’t need sustenance right now and he trusted that his body would tell him when it did.

He knew that he probably had missed phone calls or messages. He didn’t want to know for sure, not now.

He could check them tomorrow.

His hurt was demanding and ever-present. It didn’t leave room for other things. So he let everything else go.

And Suga could finally feel his eyelids drooping when his room started to turn dark. He could finally get some sleep. He knew it would help with the hurt.

He didn’t know it from experience. But still he knew it.

He didn’t fight the sleep. He was worn from the sleepless night and from everything he was feeling.

And he didn’t know what time it was when he finally did fall asleep.

But he knew it was another morning when he woke up. The light was pouring in through the window again. He had dreamed of Terushima.

And he still ached. He held the comforter tighter around himself.

 

...

 

Oikawa was back at home on Sunday, after the last 24 hours he had spent with Kageyama. It had been unexpectedly nice to spend time with him. No, not just sex. Get your mind out of the gutter. But it felt like a barrier of sorts had been cleared between them with “the talk” they had. 

He was sitting on the couch, wanting a change of scenery of his bedroom for his studying, when he heard a knock on the front door and he turned his head towards it as it opened.

Hinata stepped in carefully and looked around in the apartment. “Is Suga-san home?”

There was a quality of fragility in his voice that puzzled Oikawa. He had never heard Hinata talk so softly.

“Yeah. He’s in his room.” Oikawa told him. He hadn’t seen Suga since Friday morning, but had heard his room door open and then later close.

“Is it okay if I...?” Hinata gestured towards the bedrooms.

“Sure,” Oikawa nodded, still puzzled.

He watched Hinata go and wondered what was going on. He hadn’t seen Hinata so careful before, so subdued and reserved, soft and quiet.

Had something happened with him? With him and Kenma?

 

...

 

Suga heard a knock on his room door. He knew that Oikawa was home and prepared himself to look normal. He was still curled on his side in his bed, the comforter held tight around him, and he knew that it might be a red flag of worry.

“Suga-san?” A voice asked.

Suga smiled just a little, with effort, when he recognized the voice. “Yes?”

Hinata opened the door and came in, softly closing it after him.

“What is it Hinata?” Suga asked, acting braver and stronger than he felt. His voice cracked a little – he hadn’t spoken with anyone for almost two days.

Hinata kept shuffling from foot to foot by the door, eyes downcast, teetering on the edge of wanting to say something.

And then Suga realized why.

“Were you at work today?” He asked softly, afraid of the answer, knowing what it would be.

Hinata looked up from the floor to his eyes and came closer to the bed. He sat on it, biting his lip.

“I’m really sorry,” he said and hugged Suga, little clumsily in their different positions.

But it was nice, and warm and comforting. And it was a painful reminder.  

Suga tried not to cry, but there were tears in his eyes, blurring his vision. “I’m fine, Hinata.”

It was a lie. It wasn’t true at all. He wasn’t fine at all.

“I haven’t told anyone. And I’m not going to.” Hinata spoke quietly, holding Suga tighter.

The sentiment, the thoughtfulness of Hinata brought more tears into Suga’s eyes.

Suga pressed his eyes closed and some of the tears fell down his cheeks to the pillow.

“You can tell Kenma,” Suga said in a broken voice. “I know that you don’t like to keep things from him. It’s okay if you want to tell him.”

“I’m not going to tell him. You’ll tell everyone when you’re ready.”

Suga wanted to cry. The comfort and soft words brought Terushima to his mind again. But it didn’t ache as much with Hinata hugging him.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” There was nothing for anyone to do. Suga had to ride the sadness out. He would find a way forward from this.

Hinata let go off Suga and sat up straighter next to him.

Suga could see his face again, and he looked worried. Suga didn’t want him to look so worried.

“What’s wrong Hinata?”

Suga remembered how he asked that same question from Terushima. He had finally realized what had made Terushima frown at his phone when he got a message. It had finally made sense when Terushima told that he had met this other person couple of weeks ago. When the frowning had started. When the denial of nothing being wrong had started.

And maybe, in Terushima’s mind, nothing had been wrong. He had gotten those messages, and he had decided to ignore them. And he’d look at them with confused frown, like he didn’t know what to do. He had become so torn. And he had made a decision.

Suga felt new tears blurring his vision again.

“Do you want me to quit?” Hinata asked in a small voice.  

What? Why would he want that?

“No, of course not.” Suga denied instantly and sat up too, slowly, drawing himself to lean his back on the wall. “Why would I want that?” He asked, drying his tear-streaked cheeks on his sleeve.

“Well, um...” Hinata looked everywhere but at Suga. He was uncomfortable with this and Suga let him take his time.

“Because of Terushima-san.” Hinata finished his thought.

No, he didn’t want Hinata to quit. He didn’t want Hinata to worry about that.

Suga took a deep breath and prepared himself to talk without stutters or breaks. He needed it to come out right. He leaned forward a little, crossing his legs in front of him.

“Yuuji is a good man. He didn’t do anything wrong.” Suga took another breath, steading himself. The ache was growing in his chest. “I want you to keep your job, granted that you still feel comfortable working for him.” The ache was spreading down his arms and he could feel it tingling in his fingertips.

Suga held a steady eye contact with Hinata while he spoke. “I don’t want you to quit because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.”

Once he was done, the ache was felt all the way to the tips of his toes. He wanted to gather the comforter tight around himself again. He wanted to curl on his side and sleep the ache away. He wanted to cry because it hurt to think about Terushima.

Hinata nodded slowly. “Okay, good.” He looked a little relived.

Suga tried a small smile and managed it.

“Are you going to be okay?” Hinata asked carefully.

“I will be.” Suga promised and took a shuddering breath, steading himself again.

And he would be okay. It might take some time, but he would be okay.

It wasn’t the first time he was going through a break up. He had walked through the steps and stages before.

However, it was the first time he was going through heartbreak. And he knew it would be harder.

But he could do it. This wasn’t the end of the world for him. No matter how much it hurt right now.

_Have you ever felt like you met the right person at the wrong time?_

He would be okay.

 

...

 

The whole 20 minutes that Hinata was in Suga’s room, Oikawa pondered and wondered on his behavior.

It had been odd and so un-Hinata like for him to talk so softly and move so carefully. Granted, Oikawa hadn’t known Hinata that long and he didn’t know for certain if his behavior had been outright strange, or just rare.

Oikawa turned his head at the sound of Suga’s door opening and closing.

When Hinata walked into sight, he looked less troubled. Whatever it was that had been bothering him, what had made him act so carefully, was gone.

“Are you alright, Hinata?” Oikawa asked when he was in the living room.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Hinata answered, his smile was wide but his voice didn’t match it.

Something was still bothering him a little, worrying him. But he didn’t seem inclined to tell Oikawa as he kept walking past him to the front door.

“See you later, Oikawa-san,” Hinata said as a goodbye.

Oikawa answered it with a small wave of his hand and watched the front door close.

Maybe he could ask Suga what was going on.

He didn't get the chance, though. Suga never came from his room and studying stole Oikawa's focus.

 

...

 

It had been four days since Suga and Terushima broke up. It was Tuesday. The sun was shining through the clouds and the wind was moving fallen leaves on the ground. Suga stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets as he walked along the familiar street.

He had let himself lie in bed until Monday morning. He knew it would worry Oikawa if he holed up in his bedroom any longer.

So, he had forced himself up, showered, and watched movies in the living room. He didn’t know if Hinata had told Kenma, or if Hinata had quit. He _hoped_ Hinata hadn’t quit.

Oikawa had come home after school and stayed for couple of hours, watching the movie with Suga and recounting the night he had spent with Iwaizumi and Daichi some time ago.

Suga wondered if Oikawa had noticed how subdued he had been. The fact that Suga hadn’t left his room on Sunday might’ve tipped Oikawa that something was wrong. But he hadn’t asked and Suga hadn’t told him anything. Maybe Oikawa had noticed it and realized that he didn’t want to talk about it.

He was relieved about that. He didn’t want to talk about it. He still ached and it didn’t seem to go away.

It had been hard enough to talk with Hinata, and he didn’t want a repeat of it with anyone else who wasn’t his best friend.

That was why Suga was climbing up the stairs to Daichi and Iwaizumi’s apartment.

He rang the doorbell, knowing that Daichi would be home. But he didn’t know if Iwaizumi was.

He liked the man, truly, but he didn’t want to talk about his broken heart in front of him.

“Hey Suga!” Daichi said as he opened the door.

“Hey,” Suga said with less enthusiasm and tried a small smile. “Sorry I didn’t call in advance.”

“That’s okay. Come in.”

Suga stepped inside and Daichi closed the door.

The apartment was quiet as Suga took his shoes and jacket off.

“Is Iwaizumi at work?”

“Yeah. Were you looking for him?”

“No, no,” Suga shook his head. When he looked up to Daichi he saw a hint of worry in his eyes. His voice must’ve tipped Daichi that something was off. “I came to see you. We haven’t seen in ages.”

“Well, you’ve been busy, I’ve been busy.” Daichi led him to the kitchen. “Do you want some tea?”

“Thank you.” Suga sat in a chair by the kitchen table. “You should move into our building. We’d see each other more often.”

“No thank you.” Daichi huffed, putting the water to boil. “I’ve seen what goes in that building and I’m much happier safe distance away where my neighbors don’t barge in uninvited or get into stupid shenanigans.”

Suga struggled with the small smile and gave up.

“So, what’s up?” Daichi asked casually as he turned to take two cups. But he already knew that something was up, Suga noticed the tense line in his shoulders.

“Yuuji broke up with me.”

“WHAT?”

Daichi’s question was accompanied by the sound of a cup shattering to pieces on the floor.

Suga noted Daichi’s bare foot and stood up to fetch a broom to sweep the shards from the floor before Daichi could hurt himself with them.

“Don’t move. I’ll get that.” He instructed Daichi, who looked stricken, jaw hanging slack, his eyes wide with incomprehension.

Suga wasn’t surprised by Daichi’s reaction. He had expected as much from him.

Daichi seemed to regain back his control over his body as Suga came back with a small broom. He stepped over the broken cup to Suga.

“Give me that,” he said softly and took the broom from Suga. He set it to lean against a counter and led Suga to the living room. “Sit down.” He instructed and Suga obeyed to sit on the couch.

Suga pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them close to himself.

“Tell me what happened.” Daichi sat next to him, a hand on his shoulder and worried eyes searching for his.

“Nothing happened. I just...” Suga hadn’t cried for 24 hours, but the tears were burning in his eyes again.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He pressed his lips tight together.

The water boiled in the kitchen and Daichi stood up to go and make them tea.

Suga could feel Daichi shooting furtive glances at him.

He knew that Daichi wanted an explanation, but he couldn’t give one without crying. It was still too fresh in his mind, he still ached when he thought about Terushima.

But didn’t he come to see Daichi exactly for that reason? To tell him? To talk about it? To have his best friend there so he could cry in safe and comforting place?

Daichi came back from the kitchen, carrying two cups. He held one of them to Suga and he took it, wrapping his fingers around it to warm his hands.

Daichi sat next to him and took a sip of his tea, eyes studying Suga.

“Did you tell him?” Daichi asked carefully, his voice quiet and soft. “Did you tell him you love him?”

Suga took a shuddering breath, and when he let it out, tears spilled from his eyes. He hastily dried them with his sleeve. “No.”

Suga sobbed.

Daichi put his and Suga’s cups down on the coffee table and pulled Suga into a tight hug.

Suga let his tears fall to Daichi’s shoulder and he held on for dear life on Daichi’s shirt.

 

...

 

“Hey, I’m home,” Iwaizumi called and closed the door.

Daichi hurried to him as he was taking off his shoes, quietly shushing him. “Suga’s sleeping on the couch.”

“What’s going on?” Iwaizumi stood up and took in Daichi’s worried and bloodshot eyes.

Daichi sighed and led him to the kitchen. Iwaizumi followed him, eyes studying Daichi’s back until he turned to look at him.

“Terushima broke up with Suga,” Daichi whispered.

What?

Iwaizumi looked to the living room, at Suga curled up on their couch under a blanket.

“What the hell?” He asked as he turned back to look at Daichi.

Daichi shrugged. “I don’t know much. Suga just told me that and... “ Daichi stopped to sigh, but didn’t seem to know how to continue. He looked at his best friend and then back to him.

“But just the other day we were talking how happy they were...” Iwaizumi thought back. How had this happened? Why had this happened? What had happened?

“I know,” Daichi agreed, his voice a low murmur. “I told Suga he could sleep here if he wanted to and he fell asleep almost instantly.”

Iwaizumi pulled Daichi to a hug and felt Daichi press his face to the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He whispered his question to Daichi’s ear.

“It really hurt to see Suga so sad. He had never cried like that after a break up.” Daichi kept speaking softly and quietly. “I can’t even imagine how he’s feeling right now, what he’s going through.”

Iwaizumi could imagine. He had been through a tearful heartbreak that had come out of nowhere.

He held Daichi even tighter, closing his eyes and breathing in his familiar scent. He felt Daichi’s warmth radiate through his clothes, his warm hands press on his back.

For a minute or more, he just held Daichi in his arms.

He let go when Daichi pulled away, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Daichi smiled a little at the affection.

“Is it okay that Suga stays the night here?”

“Of course. Whatever he needs.”

“I think he just needs time.” Daichi turned to look at Suga. “He’s strong. He’ll get through this.”

Iwaizumi marveled at Daichi’s utmost trust in Suga. Their friendship was so strong, nothing could compare.

“What are you thinking?” Iwaizumi ran his fingers down Daichi’s temple to his cheek and under his chin. He knew that Daichi had met Terushima only once. And if Iwaizumi was thirsting for answers, he could only imagine how much Daichi wanted them.

“I just want to understand what happened.” Daichi flashed a sorrowful smile.

“I know you do.” Iwaizumi moved his hand to the back of Daichi’s neck gave a kiss on his lips. “I know you do.”

Daichi leaned to the kitchen table, moving in a way that Iwaizumi’s eyes trained on a little object on it.

“What’s this?” He picked it up with the hand that had been holding onto Daichi.

“It’s Suga’s,” Daichi answered, eyeing the USB drive. “It’s all his photos.”

Holy shit!

What?

Did Daichi understand how valuable this was? And it was carelessly left on their kitchen table.

“He asked me to hold on to it in case he did something stupid and deleted all his photos.” Daichi took it from Iwaizumi’s open hand. “Including the one of Terushima.”

That was smart of Suga.

Daichi closed his hand around it. “I’ll go put this somewhere safe.”

Iwaizumi nodded and watched Daichi disappear in their bedroom.

He drew his eyes back to the couch and to Suga and he was startled to see Suga looking at him.

Iwaizumi felt his chest tighten when he noticed how hurt and heartbroken Suga looked.

“I’m really sorry, Suga,” he said quietly.

Suga nodded slowly and closed his eyes again.

Iwaizumi saw a tear fall down Suga’s cheek.

He knew exactly how Suga was feeling right now.

 

...

 

When Oikawa came home on Wednesday, the front door was locked. It wasn’t uncommon, although it was unusual, and Oikawa felt like he could go in without disrupting anything or anyone.

But the fact that the door was locked became mysterious when Oikawa took off his shoes and set them neatly next to Suga’s. The only shoes there.

Why was the door locked if Suga was alone?

Suga hadn’t been home last night or this morning. Did he want to be alone, without interruptions from their neighbors? It was possible. It was weird too.

Oikawa decided to investigate. He went to Suga’s room and knocked on the door. It was quiet for a beat before a muffled “yeah?” came.

Oikawa opened the door and saw Suga curled in his armchair, reading a book. He looked tired and his eyes were red.

“Are you alright?” Oikawa asked, suddenly worried. Whatever he had been planning to ask had flown out the metaphorical window when he took in Suga’s appearance.

“Mm-hmm,” Suga nodded. “Did you need something?”

His voice was so quiet and... small, that Oikawa got really concerned.

Oikawa cleared his throat. The longer he looked at Suga, the more he noticed worrisome signs on him. Not just the red eyes, but the hurt in them, his shallow breaths, his curled in and closed off position. Had he really been reading when Oikawa knocked, or had he picked it up in haste to hide what he had really been doing?

“Are you staying in tonight? Do you want to eat dinner together?”

Suga looked down at his book and Oikawa watched how he bit his lip and took a deep breath, clearly to steady himself.

“Sure.” Suga looked back. His voice was still so small.

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded and was about to close the door and leave Suga be.

He just had to make sure first.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine.” Suga smiled a little, but his face didn’t brighten with the little curl of his lips like it usually did.

Did this have something to do with last Sunday? Oikawa had been home, but he hadn’t seen Suga at all, even though he had been home too. He had been oddly quiet on Monday too.

Did something happen? Possibly with Terushima?

Whatever it was, Suga didn’t seem to want to talk about it. So Oikawa decided to let it go, for now.

“Okay,” he nodded again, accepting Suga’s answer, but not believing it even a little, and closed the door.

He went to his room and put his bag down as he sat on his bed. He pulled his cellphone out and texted Kageyama.

 

_Can’t come tonight. Friend needs help._

 

Kageyama answered immediately.

 

_Did something happen?_

 

Oikawa didn’t know what had happened, but something definitely had happened. He didn’t tell that to Kageyama, though.

 

_Nothing too serious_

 

He lied.

 

_Alright_

_Let me know about the weekend_

 

Oikawa read the messages, but didn’t answer. He could do that later, when the mystery about Suga’s behavior had been investigated further.

He checked the time. It was only four o’clock.

He could study until it was time to make dinner. He could focus on his dissertation. He should start it. Whatever was going on with Suga couldn’t be solved at this second since he didn’t seem inclined to talk about it. That much Oikawa was sure of. It would have to wait a little longer.

So, he dug up his books and laptop and delved into the world of sports and statistics.

However, he didn’t start his dissertation.

When he felt like his brain was about to pour out of his ears because it was so stuffed with new information and knowledge, he closed his laptop and rubbed his eyes under his glasses.

The apartment was still quiet as a grave and Oikawa wondered what Suga was doing. But he didn’t want to disturb him when the man clearly wanted to be alone.

He looked towards Suga’s room when he entered the hallway and saw that his door was still closed. He had never witnessed Suga like this, and it was more and more concerning, the longer he didn’t know what the cause of this behavior was.

He wondered whether Daichi knew what was going on. He was Suga’s best friend after all.

He pulled out his phone again, this time to text Daichi, when he sat down.  

 

_Did something happen with Suga?_

 

Oikawa put his phone down next to him on the couch and started to shuffle through options on Netflix. He kept glancing at his phone, but it stubbornly stayed quiet.

He was halfway through a movie and about to give up on it when Daichi answered.

 

_He’ll tell you when he’s ready_

 

Great, thanks for that very helpful answer.

All it did was confirm that something _had_ happened.

But Oikawa wasn’t like Daichi. He couldn’t patiently wait and stand by when he was worried about his friend.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and his knee bounced as he thought over what he could do. What he should do.

He could ask Suga outright, but he had a feeling that he’s just get a dismissive “I’m fine” or “nothing’s wrong”.

He turned the TV off. It was distracting him.

He could try to pry it out of Daichi.

Or he should trust him and that Suga would tell, eventually. At some point. He hated that option, because it would take longer than the others.

He ran his hand through his hair and heard Suga’s door open.

Oikawa checked the time.

Seven o’clock.

They didn’t usually eat this early.

He looked over the back of the couch to see Suga enter the living room and followed with his eyes as he came to sit on the same couch with him.

Suga looked so tired, his eyes were red and his expression closed. 

Suga lowered to lie on his side and put his head on Oikawa’s lap.

The move thoroughly stunned Oikawa.

“Suga-chan?” He asked carefully, afraid to move, or breathe. His heartbeat had picked up its pace and Oikawa was sure it would run out of his chest any minute.

“Yuuji broke up with me.”

Oh

That’s when comprehension set in Oikawa. He let out a deep breath as he recognized the hurt air Suga carried with him, the broken expression.

He had seen that same expression before. It was practically universal, no matter who wore it.

And it all made sense now.

Why Suga wanted to be alone, why he holed up in his room, why he locked the front door. Why his eyes were red and his voice small. Why Daichi said that he’d tell when he was ready.

He was heartbroken and hurting.

No wonder he looked like he had been crying.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa said. What else was there to say?

Except that this had come out of nowhere.

The two had looked so happy. So in love. He had seen them together only a week ago.

Did the break-up have something to do with the guy Oikawa had seen Terushima flirt with at the coffee shop?  The coffee shop where, Oikawa now realized, he couldn’t probably go for a couple of days. Because he kind of wanted to verbally tear Terushima into pieces so he’d look as hurt as Suga did.

Suga was taking shallow breaths, and Oikawa wondered how hard he was fighting tears and ache right now.

“I’m okay,” Suga said, breaking into Oikawa’s thought with his broken voice. He got the feeling that Suga said it more to convince himself than Oikawa.

He realized that Suga must’ve come to him now for comfort. He could do that for Suga. Oikawa put his hand gently on Suga’s head and started to caress his hair lightly.

They sat like that, in comfortable silence. Suga’s breathing uneven, his head on Oikawa’s thigh, as Oikawa ran his fingers softly through Suga’s fair grey hair. The move of his fingers calmed his heartbeat back to normal.

“Do you want to pick the movie tonight?” Oikawa suggested quietly. He didn’t want to break the calm silence with the normal level of his voice.

“I’m not really in the mood to watch anything.” Suga answered after a beat. “Raincheck?”

“Of course Suga-chan.”

Suga let out a very deep, shuddering breath. He sounded so tired.

Oikawa kept caressing his hair. It seemed to calm Suga as well, his breathing was evening out.  

They fell asleep on the couch - the weight of Suga's head in Oikawa's lap and Oikawa's fingers lightly curled in Suga's soft hair - to wake up like that in the morning.

 

...

 

_It had been a month ago_

_Suga and Terushima were in the park, enjoying the start of an autumn. It was warm and tranquil, the white clouds moving slowly across the sky, the gentle breeze making the tree branches above them sway. The sound the leaves made in the wind reminded Suga of rain._

_Terushima was lying on his back on the bench, his head in Suga’s lap. Suga was gently playing with Terushima’s hair. He loved how silky it felt running through his fingers, how it was long enough to curl around them. He loved how Terushima hummed in content under his soft caresses._

_It was calm and the sun was warming their skin. It was yet another moment Suga wanted to burn into his memory like an old sepia toned photograph. He wanted to spend every sunny autumn day with Terushima like this, for the rest of his life._

_Terushima’s phone beeped and he pulled it from his pocket._

_Suga noticed his brow furrow just a little, not enough to make him ask about it._

_Terushima put the phone away after that one glance._

_He looked up to Suga and Suga met his eyes with a happy smile on his lips. They held their eye contact for a while, in the bright sunshine, enjoying their happiness._

_“Have you ever felt like you met the right person at the wrong time?”_

 

Suga knew those words would come back and haunt him.

Who was the right person and when was the wrong time?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still crying


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bits and pieces of moving forward pt.2

 

”Take your broken heart, make it into art.” – Carrie Fisher

 

* * *

 

 

Their apartment door stayed locked for two more days. Oikawa went to school in the morning and came home in the afternoon, finding Suga in his room reading. Always reading. In the morning, in the afternoon, in the evening and at night.

They ate dinner together on those two days, and Oikawa chose the movies they watched while they ate. Suga didn’t have any preferences and Oikawa was sure that he wasn’t even really following the plotlines.

It was quiet in the apartment.

But it didn’t bother him.

Suga didn’t want to talk about the break-up and Oikawa never pressed on the subject. And he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence. It was comfortable and it was nice.

On Saturday morning Suga told him that he was going to stay at Daichi and Iwaizumi’s for a day or two. That was fine with Oikawa, understandable. He didn’t ask for Suga’s reasons and he didn’t tell them. It wasn’t needed.

The one time Oikawa had asked about the break-up, it was only to ask who knew. Daichi knew, and so did Iwaizumi, and Hinata.

That had answered one of the mysteries in Oikawa’s mind.

And Suga had asked him not to tell anyone about him and Terushima. He wanted to do it himself.

Oikawa had agreed. Of course he would do as Suga wanted. It was Suga’s relationship that had ended, it was Suga who was hurting. Oikawa didn’t have any right to gossip about it or tell anyone about it. It wasn’t Oikawa’s place to tell him what to do or how to deal.

So, he let Suga be, but made sure that the man knew he was there if he needed someone to talk to, someone to just listen, or someone to just sit quietly with.

That was why they had spent the past two evenings curled up in the living room, on the same couch – Suga reading and Oikawa studying, in the opposite ends of the couch.

But Suga was at Daichi’s now, and Oikawa was in the living room alone. He was doing research for his dissertation, taking up notes, when Kuroo walked in.

“Hey,” the man said with his usual grin.

Oikawa glanced over his laptop screen and noticed that he came without his shoes, again.

“Hey,” Oikawa said and focused back on typing up ideas and thoughts and references.

“No Suga?”

Oikawa looked up and studied Kuroo’s expression. It was honestly curious, not worried or concerned. He didn’t know.

“No.” Oikawa dropped his gaze back to the screen and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “He’s at Daichi’s.”

“Oh, okay.”

Kuroo lied down on a couch and Oikawa saw from his side-eye him lift up the remote in a question.

He continued typing, not looking up. “You can turn it on.”

“It won’t bother you?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m almost done anyway.”

Oikawa saw Kuroo nod and he heard the TV turn on. Kuroo turned the volume down and Oikawa could faintly hear the channels change as the background sounds and conversations changed drastically.

“Oikawa, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm, hold on a sec.”

He wanted to finish up this sentence, so he could be done. Kuroo waited while he kept typing.

“Okay, what?” He looked up to Kuroo over the laptop again.

“Why was your door locked three days in a row?”

Kuroo looked curious again, his eyes just a hint narrower. Oikawa knew it would seem weird to their neighbors that the door was locked, but Suga had insisted on it, even though he had been immensely torn by that decision.

“I wanted to study in peace, without interruptions.” Not a lie, per say. “You know I love you guys, but sometimes I need to be alone,” he continued with a smile. It was the truth.

Kuroo smiled back to him. “And we love you too.”

Oikawa sighed and closed his laptop, lifting it off his lap and on to the coffee table.

“But,” Kuroo said, his smile gone now. “Didn’t Suga mind that the door was locked?”

_No_

“Yes.” Oikawa lied casually. If Suga didn’t want anyone to know that he and Terushima had broken up, he probably didn’t want anyone to know how down and hurt he had been. And if anyone had seen him like that, they would’ve had questions. Oikawa knew it because he had had questions and he had been worried, just like anyone in this building would’ve been.

“He did. But he also understood.” Oikawa respected how Suga appeared strong in front of others and how he let himself be vulnerable in front of those he truly trusted. That was the reason Oikawa decided to lie to Kuroo. And change the subject.

“So, what are we watching?”

The look on Kuroo’s face told him that the man didn’t fully believe him. Oikawa was glad that he however dropped the subject, accepted his answer, and let it go for now.

 

...

 

That Saturday, Oikawa brought Kageyama to the apartment, knowing that Suga wouldn’t be there. He hoped he wouldn’t come to regret that decision.

Kageyama hadn’t asked since that one time, but Oikawa knew that he wanted a change of scenery for their meet-ups. So did Oikawa. It would be nice to wake up in his own bed, next to Kageyama.

Could it still be called casual sex, if they slept next to each other and woke up together and sometimes ate breakfast together? Oikawa didn’t want to think too hard on that. It was sex, and it was enough.

“Is your roommate here?” Kageyama asked as he looked around the living room and kitchen.

Oikawa had sat down by the kitchen island and he watched with fascination as Kageyama inspected this and that.

“No, he’s staying at his friend’s.”

Kageyama nodded and walked to Oikawa.

“Am I here now, because he isn’t and there’s no chance that I’d accidentally meet him?” Kageyama leaned next to Oikawa on the kitchen island.

Oikawa met his hard eyes and smiled.

“Would you be offended if I said yes?”

Kageyama didn’t say anything, but Oikawa could read his disappointed expression. He observed Kageyama as his eyes kept wandering around the apartment.

“Show me your bedroom,” Kageyama said suddenly, but his voice was even.

Oikawa flashed a smirk at the proposition and decided to tease him.

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa brought his hand to his chest. “Aren’t we forward tonight.”

“You’re being a bad host by not giving me a proper tour. I’m actually helping you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Oikawa waved his hand dismissively. “Just hold on a sec.” He went to make sure he had locked the door.

“It’s this way.”

He led the way to the hallway towards his bedroom and Kageyama followed behind him.

He leaned his shoulder to the doorframe and let Kageyama go in before him. It had been awhile since he had had anyone in his bedroom, even before he moved to live with Suga.

“Are you nervous about having me here?” Kageyama asked when he had taken in the room and turned to look at Oikawa.

“No. I’m just best friends with this door.”

“Yeah, right.” Kageyama didn’t look at all like he believed Oikawa as he casually nodded with his words.

Oikawa withdrew himself from the doorway and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. The front door was locked, yes, and Suga was gone, yes. But there was still a chance, a very small chance that someone might come in. He was just being cautious.

 

...

 

Suga was lazily snuggled with a pillow on Daichi’s couch, reading a book. He had been through three books in as many days. This was his fourth. It was his escape.

He had decided to come to Daichi and Iwaizumi’s when he couldn’t take the smell in his sheets anymore. First it had been a comforting memory, then it had become a painful reminder when the warmth that belonged to that smell wasn’t there anymore. He could’ve changed the sheets, washed them. He should have. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But he had managed to take Terushima’s shirts from his closet and put them into a bag along with some other things he had left in the apartment. Suga’s lip had been raw from biting it the whole time. He wished for the day he could bring the things to Terushima without the wrench in his heart.

Daichi had agreed immediately, when Suga had asked if he could come, for a day or two. He had the best best friend in the world.

“Suga, do you want tea?” Daichi’s head peaked behind the corner of the kitchen.

“Thank you.” Suga gave a little smile that died as soon as Daichi’s head disappeared again.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“I’m still full from earlier, but thanks.”

Daichi appeared from the kitchen, carrying two cups. He put one on the coffee table for Suga, and sat down in the armchair with the other.

“How many books have you read already?”

Suga glanced up from the book. “This is fourth.”

“Today?” Daichi had an incredulous look on him.

“Since Wednesday.”

Daichi nodded in understanding.

Suga knew he was being kind of a bad friend when he was visiting his friend and spent all their time together reading.

Suga took the cup of tea and continued reading, hugging the pillow to his torso with his arms. He could feel Daichi’s eyes studying him.

“I know you don’t really want to talk about it,” Daichi said tentatively.

Suga looked up from his book at Daichi. He knew what “it” meant.

“But I kind of have questions. Do you feel like you might be up to answering some of them?”

Suga thought about it for a long second.

“As long as I reserve the right to refuse answering or elaborating,” he said, closing the book in his lap.

“Of course.” Daichi agreed easily.

Suga nodded, his consent for Daichi to ask.

“Did Terushima tell you why he wanted to break up?”

Suga took a deep breath. He pressed his lips together tight.

“He met someone else. About a month ago.”

Suga watched Daichi’s eyes change from soft and understanding to a narrow suspicion.

“He didn’t cheat on me,” Suga told him, guessing the reason for the change.

“Are you sure?” Daichi’s voice lowered.

“Yes.” Suga stressed the word with a nod. Terushima wouldn’t do that to him, not when he had gone through that in his past.

Daichi didn’t ask anything for a while. Suga didn’t want to guess what was going through his mind.

“Did you have any clue that this would happen?”

“No.”

And yes. But that realization had only come after the break-up.

Suga could see in Daichi’s eyes that he didn’t fully believe him. But he didn’t ask further about it. Suga hugged the pillow closer.

“I know you didn’t tell him that you loved him,”

Suga could feel his lips turn down and he shuddered.

“But do you think that if you had told him –“

“If we would still be together?” Suga interrupted Daichi’s question.

Daichi nodded.

“I have thought about it,” Suga admitted. “I have wondered if we’d still be together if I had told him I love him. But I don’t think that we would be. It would’ve just made the break-up harder if we’d admitted that we love each other and if we’d accepted that love,” he spoke out loud his thoughts and once he started, the rest came like water rushing down a waterfall.

He told Daichi about the first time he had thought he was in love. He told Daichi how he had felt loved by Terushima. He told Daichi how he had been scared. He told him about the regret.

Suga was scared and so afraid that Terushima didn’t know how loved he had made Suga feel. He was afraid that Terushima didn’t know how wonderful he had been whenever they were together.

Suga truly did regret that their relationship had ended like this, right when they had been so happy together.

Suga regretted that he hadn’t told Terushima how much he loved him when he had the chance. He regretted that he hadn’t said it the first time he had felt it. He regretted that he hadn’t said it every day that they were together. He regretted that he didn’t tell Terushima the full extent of how happy he made him.

But the biggest regret?

It was the moment at the park when Suga hadn’t fought for them. He should have fought for them. But this was what Terushima had wanted and Suga had wanted to respect that decision.

He had let Terushima go, even though he had thought about their future together. He had thought and planned for their future. Living together, growing old and wrinkled together and sassing younger people.

But would it have changed anything? Would it have changed anything if Terushima knew all those things?

It hurt to think about it, but sometimes it was all Suga _could_ think about.

Daichi listened quietly as Suga talked, never interrupting or asking anything when Suga grew quiet for a spell.

Their cups were empty by the time Suga was done and he dried his cheeks in his sleeve again.

“Suga...”

Suga looked up to Daichi and saw tears in his eyes too.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all that hurt. You don’t deserve it.”

Daichi spoke with such genuine care that it made Suga want to bask in it. It made him feel a little better, but also hurt all over again. All the feelings didn’t fit into his body and it was aching with it. It was too much.

Daichi moved to hug Suga and his arms were strong around him. But they didn’t belong to the person his heart wanted.

Suga pressed his face to Daichi’s shoulder. He still kept hurting and he wondered if it would ever end.

“Give it time. You’ll be okay, you’ll get over this,” Daichi spoke against Suga’s hair. “I know you, and you’re so strong. I know you’ll be fine.”

Suga gave a tight squeeze to Daichi before he let go.

Daichi petted Suga hair, his eyes following his hand’s movement.

Suga dropped his own eyes from Daichi’s to his own hands in his lap.

“You’ll be fine.”

Suga nodded. He wanted to believe Daichi.

“Just give it time.”

He knew that.

“I believe in you.”

Suga lifted his eyes to Daichi’s and met his small assuring smile.

“I’ll make more tea,” Daichi said and stood up, took the cups and went to kitchen.

Suga heaved a deep breath, shudders rolling off his body. He felt a little better. Talking to Daichi had helped.

He knew it wouldn’t happen overnight. He knew that he wouldn’t wake up tomorrow and magically the hurt would be gone. But he would be fine. He believed that and he believed Daichi.

And he made a promise to himself. He would never again hesitate to express his feelings.

 

...

 

Suga came home on Monday.

It was nice to have him back, Oikawa thought. The apartment wasn’t as quiet as it was without the man, even though he mainly sat and read. But it was nice to have his company.

After the dinner they had made together, they had settled into the living room.

Oikawa was sitting, well, lying on the couch. He had rested his head on the armrest and he was looking at the TV, his long legs across the length of the couch.

“How was Daichi?” Oikawa asked, turning his head a little to look at the man at the other end of the couch.

Suga lifted his head up from the book he had propped against his knees. He was leaning against the other armrest, his back to the TV, his legs propped up on the couch between Oikawa’s.

“He was good. So was Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa nodded. “And you?”

Suga seemed subdued, and Oikawa continued to worry.

“I’m fine.” Suga dropped his eyes back to the book. “It was a nice change of pace.”

Oikawa sighed quietly and shifted a little with the want to hug Suga and give him comfort.

“How was your weekend?” Suga asked with his eyes still on the book.

“It was fine.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing much. Studied a little.”

Suga looked up. “That’s all? Only studying?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I just thought that you might’ve taken advantage of the apartment being empty and bring the guy you’ve been seeing.” Suga held the eye contact.

“Kageyama?”

“Is that his name?” Suga asked with open curiosity.

Oikawa nodded.

“How’s it going with him?”

“Why are you asking?” Oikawa asked again. Suga had never shown any particular interest to know about Kageyama.

“Because I want to focus on something that doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

Oikawa could understand that and decided to answer. “We’re not dating, so it’s... going.”

“But you enjoy his company?”

“I guess,” Oikawa shrugged.

_But not as much as I enjoy yours._

Oikawa didn’t know where the thought came from but he was relieved that he didn’t voice it.

“That’s good,” Suga said and dropped his eyes back to the book. “You’re welcome to bring him here whenever.”

“I know.”

That didn’t mean he was about to.

As the evening wore on, Oikawa could feel Suga now and then glancing at him. It reminded Oikawa of the first night he had spent in this apartment and he had to ask. 

“Why do you keep looking at me?” Oikawa asked, his grin stretching wider the more he thought about it.

Suga looked up from the book with confusion. “I do?”

Oikawa nodded. “Why do you do it?”

“I don’t know,” Suga answered and Oikawa wanted to believe the honest puzzlement in his voice. 

“It’s like you’re waiting for me to do something unexpected, turn green all of sudden, or something.”

Suga let out a little laugh and Oikawa smiled with genuine joy of hearing it.

“You did it the first night I was here, too. When we ate with Iwa-chan and Daichi.”

“Hm...” Suga hummed. “I don’t think I’m doing it consciously.”

“You just happen to like looking at me?” Oikawa teased.

Suga dropped his eyes. “Maybe.”

Oikawa smiled wider and turned back to the TV. He couldn’t help but feel particularly good about himself.

Of course there were many reasons for why Suga was looking at him, and even if it was because he _maybe_ liked to look at him, there were many reasons for that too. Nonetheless, it was still a welcome thought.

Suga still kept looking up from his book, but less and less frequently as the evening turned to night and the more slumped Suga’s position became.

And yes, they fell asleep on the couch.

When Oikawa noticed that Suga’s book had fallen forgotten on his chest, he turned the TV off and flung a blanket over them.

It seemed that Suga didn’t want to be alone and Oikawa wanted to give comfort to him in any way possible. If it meant sleeping in the living room, he was happy to.  

And it had been... nice, to wake up and see Suga on the couch, still sleeping. Oikawa had watched his chest rise and fall with his deep and slow breathing. Actually, it had been more than nice and Oikawa was sorry that he had to go to school.

 

...

 

Suga woke up early again. It had become a serious habit and it seemed to be hard to get rid of.

He wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep in late again, as he took in the living room in the early morning darkness.

He wasn’t surprised that he was lying on the couch, and he wasn’t surprised that Oikawa was sleeping on the same couch, in the other end, their legs next to each other’s bodies.

He was glad that Oikawa was there. The man was exceptionally apt at reading others, or just Suga, and he was grateful that Oikawa had noticed that he didn’t want to be alone.

It had been different at Daichi and Iwaizumi’s. He hadn’t been alone there either, except for the nights, but he had felt like an outsider. This was much better, being alone with Oikawa.

Suga studied him in the quiet, counting the rise and fall of his chest, taking note of the soft way his hair fell over the cushions, the shape of his mouth. Suga wished he had his camera with him. The angle of Oikawa’s face was perfect. It was no wonder that Suga had been looking at him last night. He was handsome, beautiful even. It was written in plain sight all over him.

Suga closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath and trying to fall back asleep. He knew that Oikawa wouldn’t wake up for school for some time, and he could easily stay here until then. He didn’t quite fall asleep, though, but he did fall deep into his thoughts. How would their friends and neighbors react if they happened to come for coffee and saw them sleeping on the couch? The front door was unlocked again. Suga wasn’t worried about their reaction or opinion, but honestly intrigued how it might go over.

However, no one came in and Suga wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not. One big plus side was that he didn’t have to explain anything.

But there was one big thing that he needed to tell everyone. He knew he should do it soon, before they found out some other way.

At some point, Suga could faintly hear through the deep haze of his thoughts Oikawa get up and quietly move around the apartment. He could open his eyes and get up too, but he was comfortable and warm.

He didn’t fully wake up and get up until he heard the front door open and close and the apartment had been quiet for a long while. He felt better than he had for the past days.

 

...

 

When Oikawa came back home, Suga wasn’t on the couch and his bedroom door was closed. Oikawa let him be, knowing that he probably just wanted to be alone again, and started to make tea.

The front door opened suddenly, interrupting Oikawa’s task and Kuroo came in. He looked a little distraught.

“Is Suga home?” Kuroo asked when his eyes landed on Oikawa.

Did he know? That would explain his worried expression.

“I don’t –“ Oikawa started but Kuroo cut him off.

“I ran into Terushima.”

Oh. He did know.

“He told me.”

Oikawa didn’t need to guess what Terushima had told him. But Suga didn’t want to talk about it. Suga had been quiet and tired the past days and it really worried Oikawa. He hadn’t been the Suga Oikawa had met. He wasn’t the Suga who had a sweet smile full of dimples and who was full of life, who saw something beautiful and something to love in everything, who would beat away any negativity you felt about yourself. Now he was just full of hurt and Oikawa wasn’t sure who Suga was trying to convince when he said he was fine, Oikawa or himself? Maybe both.

Should he tell Kuroo to go away?

“I don’t think Suga wants to see anyone right now,” Oikawa said carefully. He wasn’t sure of his place in this tight-knit group of friends, but he was worried about Suga, he too cared about Suga.

“It’s fine Oikawa,” Suga said as he walked in to the kitchen.

Oikawa and Kuroo turned to look at him. Oikawa heard Kuroo heave a deep breath when he saw Suga. The man looked subdued, a bad copy of himself.

“Kuroo can stay. I’m going out anyway.”

That was a surprise. And he was carrying his camera in his hand.

“Haven’t seen you with a camera for a while,” Oikawa observed.

“I thought I’d take advantage of looking through it with new eyes, of seeing things differently, noticing something I haven’t before,” Suga spoke as he put his jacket on.

“Call us if you need anything,” Kuroo told him.

“Of course.” Suga gave a small smile and left.

Oikawa sighed with worry and leaned his back against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin high. “Please tell me that was a good sign.”

“I have no idea,” Kuroo said.

Oikawa opened his eyes to look at him. Kuroo was still looking at the front door. “I’ve never seen him like that.”

Kuroo turned to look at him. “Do you have to study?”

Oikawa shrugged, shaking his head. He didn’t really feel like studying, and there was nothing he had to do right then.

“Want to go play Injustice League at Bokuto’s?”

“Sure.” Oikawa shrugged again. “Is he home?”

“Yeah, he texted me earlier today and asked me to come,” Kuroo said as they made their way out the door into the building’s stairwell.

“You can’t tell him about Suga.”

“I know.” Kuroo nodded, but it was too casual for Oikawa’s liking. “By the way, have you seen Terushima since?” Kuroo asked when they made their way upstairs.

“No. I haven’t been to the coffee shop since either. Why?”

“He looked broken,” Kuroo said dejectedly and knocked on the door. “Like, he’d done the biggest mistake of his life.”

Knowing this didn’t make Oikawa like the man more. He really couldn’t think about forgiving Terushima even if he was as heartbroken as Suga. It was his own doing and it was hard to hold any sympathy towards the man.

“It’s open!” A voice called from inside.

“Kuroo,” Oikawa stopped the man with a hand on the door handle. “You can’t tell Bokuto,” he stressed.

Kuroo studied him, and nodded. “I won’t,” he promised and they stepped inside.

 

...

 

Everyone in the building seemed to know.

Oikawa didn’t know how or when Suga had told them about the break up, but one day they didn’t know and the next they did.

Their apartment was quiet and everyone stayed away for a spell even though their door wasn’t locked. They clearly wanted to give Suga space and time. It was considerate and Oikawa was grateful that he didn’t have to tell them to leave.

As another night wore on, and he and Suga were alone in the living room, Suga slid lower on the couch. He had his head resting on the pillows by the armrest, one of his legs slung over Oikawa’s and the other to the side of the couch. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, the book fallen on his chest. Oikawa watched him sleep for a while, waiting to be sure that Suga wouldn’t wake up when he rose.

When he was sure that Suga was deep in his dreams, he carefully got up. He took the book from Suga and put it down on the coffee table, and covered him with a blanket. Suga didn’t stir and Oikawa braved to caress his hair once, lightly, in a comforting motion, and turned off the lights before he went to his bed.

Suga already seemed a little better, compared to the days before weekend. Oikawa was sure that telling everyone had helped.

 

...

 

“Hey, Kiyoko,” Suga said and she turned around.

“Hey, Suga.” She hugged him.

Shimizu didn’t usually initiate any physical contact and Suga was a little surprised. He could guess where it was coming from.

“I guess you’ve seen Yuuji.”

“Yes. He told me,” Shimizu said quietly in the hug. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m fine,” Suga assured her and she let go. “You said in your message that you wanted me to meet someone,” he reminded her of why he was there. And he wanted to think about anything else than Terushima.

“Yes,” Shimizu said and led Suga to the back of the gallery, to her office. “He’s late, but you can wait here.”

“What is this about?”

“Does the name Takeda Ittetsu say anything to you?”

“No,” Suga answered honestly. He had never heard of it.

“He’s an art dealer, agent, something like that.”

“Oh.”

“He was here the other day and he kept asking about your photos and your gallery.”

“Do you know what he wants?”

“No. He just said he wanted to meet you. I told him I’d arrange it. I’m sorry it’s at a bad time like this, but he was insistent that it happened as soon as possible.” Shimizu looked truly sorry and Suga wanted none of that. He was fine.

“It’s fine, Kiyoko.”

Shimizu nodded and she looked like she was about to say something when they heard the gallery’s front door open.

“I think that’s him. I’ll be right back,” she said softly.

Suga sat down in one of the chairs in her office and looked around himself. It was neat, just like anyone would expect of Shimizu. Her love for art could be seen even in the little windowless room, with the numerous paintings and sculptures adorning the space.

“Suga?” She alerted him to her presence when she came back and Suga stood up when he noticed a man following her.

“Sugawara?” The man asked eagerly and came towards Suga with his arm reached out.

“Yes,” Suga nodded.

“I’m Takeda Ittetsu. I have to say it’s an honor to meet you,” he said and shook Suga’s hand in a bow.

Suga was taken back. Honor?

“I have been following your work for years, ever since your first gallery,” Takeda said and relinquished Suga’s hand to push up his glasses. “I happened to see it on accident and I’ve been in love with your photos ever since.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’ve just heard that you don’t have any representation.”

“I’ve never thought I needed any. I’ve done fine without it,” Suga admitted. 

“My clients all thought the same. They were diamonds in the rough, and now they’re practically household names. Their art truly took off like a bird to the air. I promote and sell their art to dealers and collectors and I would like to be able to do that for your art too. I think it deserves more recognition.”

“I...” Suga didn’t know what to say and he glanced at Shimizu for advice or direction, and saw a small smile playing on her lips.

This _could_ be good. He had seriously thought about it briefly at his last exhibit. But... Would that make him a household name too? He wasn’t too keen on that possibility. He wasn’t an artist the way Takeda’s other clients must be.

“You don’t have to decide anything now,” Takeda said and Suga was a little relieved. He wanted to think it through before he agreed on anything.

“Really, all I wanted was to meet you and introduce myself. But I have to admit, I already have a buyer for one of your photos. That’s why I came here, asking about it. That’s how I found out about your situation. It was nice of Shimizu-san to contact you for me.”

“I’ll have to think about your proposition,” Suga said. “But about the photo you mentioned.” He glanced at Shimizu and saw her look down at the floor.

“Which photo were you talking about?” He asked carefully, little afraid of Takeda’s answer.

“It was in your latest exhibit. I believe you didn’t sell it to anyone. It would be extremely rare piece for anyone to own and the buyer is ready to pay handsomely for it.”

Suga drew in a quick breath. He was talking about the photo of Terushima.

“It’s not for sale,” Suga said immediately.

“Oh.” Takeda looked a little disappointed. “I thought you just wanted to make sure it got a higher value for its rarity.”

“No, it was for a lot more selfish reasons,” Suga spoke quietly and a silence fell in the office.

“Is there a problem?” Takeda asked carefully, looking from Suga to Shimizu and back to Suga again.

“No, there’s no problem,” Shimizu answered him.

“I’m sorry,” Suga apologized. “It's just a sore subject. I've... I've just broken up from the person in that photo so -.”

“Oh, I’m sorry," Takeda interrupted quickly. "This is a bad time to talk about this all, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Suga was quick to assure. “Um, can I have your contact information so I can let you know when I’ve thought about your proposition?”

“Yes, of course.” Takeda drew a card from his jacket inside pocket and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose when he had handed the card to Suga. “You can reach me at any time.”

“Thank you.” Suga accepted the card and read the name and contact information on it.

“Take your time before you make a decision. But it would be an absolute honor and delight to represent you Sugawara-san.”

Suga smiled and nodded.

“Thank you Shimizu-san for arranging this on such short notice.” He turned to thank her and bowed again, pushing his glasses up again.

“There’s no need to thank me.” Shimizu smiled her little smile at him and Suga was sure he noticed the moment Takeda’s heart stopped for a second upon the sight.

“Yes, well, I should go. I don’t want to keep you from anything,” Takeda said and exited the office space with a little bow.

“I looked him up and asked around a little after he came by here asking about your gallery,” Shimizu said in a calm voice. “He’s legit and his clients have done very well.”

“Do you think I should do it?”

“Yes.”

Suga sighed and looked at the card in his hand again.

“He would handle all the sales, putting together dates and places for your exhibits. It would free you up and let you concentrate on your art.”

Shimizu was right.

Suga thought that he should sleep on it, even though he was already leaning towards accepting.

 

...

 

“Where’s Suga?” Daichi asked when he looked around the apartment and didn’t see his best friend.

“He left with his camera earlier today,” Oikawa answered and went to the kitchen. “But that was a while ago. He’ll probably be back soon.” Suga had left every day somewhere with his camera for almost a week now.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Sure, thanks.” Daichi nodded as he sat on the couch. He waited silently in the living room while Oikawa prepared the tea.

“How’s Suga doing?” Daichi asked when Oikawa gave him a cup.

“Better.” Oikawa sat down in the armchair. “He hasn’t read for two days now.”

“That’s good.” Daichi sipped his tea. There was a steady hint of worry in his eyes. “He took the break up hard.”

“Yeah. Can I ask you something about that?”

“Sure.”

Oikawa switched off the TV.

“How’s Suga usually after a break up? I mean, is there something I should be preparing for? I know it’s been almost two weeks now, but I’d like to know.”

“He’s pretty much himself,” Daichi answered and that didn’t describe the Suga Oikawa had witnessed these past days. “At least he was in his previous break-ups. He smiled easily, he provided help. He beat the negativity out of us.” Daichi chuckled at the memory.

“But he never talked about the break-ups. Just that they happened and that was it. That’s one of the biggest reasons why I know his relationship with Terushima meant more to him than his previous ones did. He opened up about it to me. He’d never done that before. For example, he didn’t say much on why he and Akaashi broke up. One day they were together and the next day they weren’t.” 

“Maybe Suga overcame the break ups easily before because the relationships weren’t that serious,” he continued. “And that’s why we felt that it was okay to tease him about them.”

Oikawa thought over what Daichi just told him. Teased Suga?

“But Terushima was different. You only saw Suga with him, but I’ve seen Suga with other guys as well and it was never like it was with Terushima. He never looked at the others like he looked at Terushima, and no one looked at Suga like he did.”

“They really loved each other,” Oikawa said quietly.

“Yeah,” Daichi nodded. “I know that he doesn’t want to be alone right now, even if he’s being quiet all the time. So it’s nice that you’re living here. You can be here for him, at least a little bit.”

Oikawa smiled a little. It was nice that Daichi thought that. In a way it proved to Oikawa, that it wasn’t weird that he wanted to be here for Suga.

“By the way, what did you mean when you said that you teased Suga about his ex-boyfriends?” Oikawa asked, because he wasn’t sure if he was okay with that.

Daichi smiled ruefully. He wasn’t proud of it. Good.

“It started from his first boyfriend. Um...” Daichi scratched his cheek and stopped to think. “You know how a couple can seem good or great or perfect together?”

Oikawa nodded.

“Suga and his exes, they always seemed good together, maybe even great. But after the break up, when we saw the ex with a new guy, they were perfect for each other. So, we teased Suga that he’s like some kind of genie or he has a superpower that helps the guys he’s dated find their soulmate.”

That could be easily proven to be true when one looked at Bokuto and Akaashi. But could it be proven with Terushima? Could he find someone who was more perfect to him than Suga?

“And Suga doesn’t believe in soulmates so he’s not that keen on us teasing him about that. But we know that he doesn’t take it to his heart, because he’s joked about it himself too.”

“Are you going to tease Suga about Terushima too?”

“No.” Daichi shook his head vigorously. “I can’t do that. Suga loved him so much and he was so heartbroken.” Daichi put his cup down on the coffee table and covered his face with his hands, sliding them down his cheeks. He looked weary and worried staring into nothing, his fingers splayed on his cheeks.

“I don’t understand what was going on in Terushima head when he broke up with Suga. They were perfect for each other.”

Oikawa had to agree, but he didn’t say anything out loud.  

“I guess he thought that the guy he met was worth it.” Daichi sighed and reached for his cup again.

“Wait, he met someone?”

This was news to Oikawa.

“That’s what Suga said.”

“That sucks. Being replaced by someone else.”

They agreed and fell into silence. Neither of them had anything to say. No more to speculate about Suga’s relationships.

It wasn’t awkward or tense or oppressive. They just fell into their own thoughts.

The silence was broken few minutes later when Suga came home. There was a hint of a smile on his lips. Oikawa was relieved to see that it reached his eyes. He truly was better.

“Hey Suga,” Daichi said and went to hug him.

Oikawa observed them from the armchair and noticed both of them close their eyes. It was sweet.

“What’s going on?” Daichi asked when they disentangled from the hug.

Suga looked at Oikawa and then back to Daichi.

“I got an agent,” he said and his smile brightened with the words.

“Suga, that’s amazing.” Daichi hugged Suga again, now with excitement. Oikawa was happy for him too and got up to cheer with them.

There was color in Suga again, like an old TV that had slowly warmed into colors as it turned on. He was smiling like Suga again.

“How did this happen?” Daichi asked.

“Apparently he came asking about my photos from Kiyoko and she arranged us to meet. He seemed eager about it,” Suga explained.

“What’s his name?”

“Takeda Ittetsu.”

“Wait, I know him,” Daichi said with sudden exclaim.

“You know him?” Suga asked with disbelief.

“Well, not really _know_ him but I know of him. He’s Kuroo’s volleyball team’s coach’s boyfriend of something.”

“How is it possible for everyone to know everyone?” Oikawa asked. It was getting absurd how he couldn’t take two turns without finding out that someone he had once known knew someone he knew now. Or something like that. “At this point I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that one of my professors was related to someone in this building.”

Daichi chuckled. “Actually – “ he started.

“No, I don’t want to know.” Oikawa stopped him. “It’s already weird enough.”

Suga smiled with sympathy.

“But I’m happy for you,” Oikawa said to him. “This could be a really good thing.”

“Well, I haven’t accepted his proposition to be my agent yet. But I think I’m going to.”

“You should.”

“I agree,” Daichi said. “You definitely should.”

Suga smiled at both of them. It was a refreshing sight and Oikawa hadn’t realized how much he had missed seeing him smile genuinely like that.

...

 

Couple of days had rolled by again in the same fashion as the ones before. When Oikawa woke up, he’d check on Suga before he went to school, and after school he spent his days with Suga in the living room. It had become an unofficial routine and Oikawa was curious to know how long it was going to last.

But he knew that the routine would be interrupted for this particular day the second he noticed two very familiar silhouettes in front of the building’s door.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, just on the side of harsh. It’s not that he wasn’t happy to see his friends. He just wasn’t overjoyous of seeing them right then, right there.

“Well, hello to you too.” Matsukawa said with his expression unchanged.

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa asked again, this time with a kinder tone. He wondered how long they had been waiting for him to come home.

“We have a surprise for you,” Hanamaki said and pulled a set of keys from his jacket pocket, drawing Oikawa’s attention to them.

“Say hi to your new neighbors,” Matsukawa smiled.

“Shall we go in?” Hanamaki asked and turned towards the front door.

Oikawa’s eyes widened when he realized what was going on.

“No! Why?” He whined.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me you moved here.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa grinned.

“Why did you move here? Isn’t the rent high here?”

“It’s manageable, don’t worry about that,” Hanamaki said and opened the building’s heavy front door.

“Besides, you can’t put a price on friendship.” Matsukawa added with a pat on Oikawa’s shoulder and went inside after his boyfriend.

Oikawa looked up to the sky in search of strength and patience and a plea for answers from the universe before he went after them. It’s not that he didn’t like his friends, on the contrary. He had no idea where he would be if it wasn’t for these two, but he didn’t exactly need them to live this close. What if they picked up the habit that his current neighbors already had?

“Does Iwa-chan know that you moved here?” Oikawa asked as they climbed up the stairs.

“Yep,” Matsukawa answered.

“He and Daichi helped us move our stuff two days ago.”

Two days ago? When Suga had come home with the news about the agent? Had Daichi come not only to see Suga, but to keep Oikawa from leaving the apartment? How sneaky of them.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa stopped climbing when they arrived to the second landing.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to invite your new neighbors inside?” Hanamaki gestured towards the door.

“No.” Oikawa looked between the two of them. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you love us,” Hanamaki answered fluidly. “And we’ll invite you to ours because we love you.”

Oikawa wanted to see their new apartment. He already knew it would be the one bedroom apartment on the top floor and if it was anything like Bokuto and Akaashi’s, it would be perfect them.  

“Let’s go to yours first," he suggested, but they wouldn’t have it.

“No.” Matsukawa shook his head.

“Why?” Oikawa practically whined again, but he didn’t care.

“You’re not getting away with not having us again. It’s really rude that you haven’t invited us to a housewarming yet,” Matsukawa said with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Fine,” Oikawa conceded. He didn’t feel like arguing. Plus, they were his friends and he could admit that it had been a little inconsiderate of him not to have them come over earlier.

He said a silent apology in his head to Suga in advance as he opened the door. He knew that Suga would be home at this time. But he didn’t know what kind of day he was having. Ever since the news about the agent Suga had been _him_ again, not the faded copy. But there were still times...

“Honey, I’m home!” Oikawa called as a joke and took his shoes off when he entered the apartment, Hanamaki and Matsukawa coming in after him. “And I bring offerings!”

Suga appeared from the hallway. Oikawa took in what he was wearing and deduced that he had come home himself just a little while ago - he was still dressed in his jeans.   

“Offerings?” Suga asked with a smile and his eyes focused on the two men standing behind Oikawa. “Friends of yours?”

“Yes,” Oikawa admitted and dropped his bag on the couch as they all filed in to the living room. “Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei.” Oikawa pointed to them and they bowed a little towards Suga at the mention of their names. Suga paid his respects similarly. “They’re our new neighbors.”

“Oh?” Suga looked back to Oikawa and then to the other two. “I think we’ve met before.”

“We have,” Hanamaki said.

“But it’s nice to meet you again,” Matsukawa added.  

“Likewise. Welcome to the building.” Suga smiled wider with his polite words. “Would you like to have some tea?”  

“Suga-chan, no,” Oikawa said at the same time as Hanamaki spoke.

“How nice of you to offer, but we just came to see how our little Oikawa has been living.”  He put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“They’re really not going to stay,” Oikawa said severely.

“Alright.” Suga nodded. “I’ll let you be then,” he added and started towards his room.

Oikawa watched Suga go, relieved that he seemed to be in a good mood. When he turned his head back to look at his friends, they were already looking at him with a knowing glint in their eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Matsukawa denied.

“Well, give us the tour and we can go out then,” Hanamaki added.

“There isn’t much to see. And what do you mean by going out?”

“We’re going to go celebrate our new apartment. We already called Iwaizumi about it.”

“No housewarming party then?”

“Do you realize how messy and disorganized it is in our apartment right now? We’re definitely going _out_ to celebrate.”

“Fine,” Oikawa agreed. In fact, truth be told, he was excited by the idea of going out. “So, here’s the living room and the kitchen and through the hallway is our bedrooms and the bathroom,” he spoke quickly, pointing around him. “I’ll tell Suga we’re going now.” Oikawa started towards the hallway, but stopped when a thought occurred to him. “Would it be okay if Suga comes too?”

“Of course,” Matsukawa nodded.

“Great, I’ll be right back. Feel free to look around.” Oikawa smiled and left his friends alone in the living room. He thought it might be good for Suga to go out a bit to have fun.

He knocked on Suga’s partly open door and heaved a quiet sigh when he saw Suga sitting on his bed in much comfier clothes, resting against the wall, and reading a book.

“Hey,” he announced by the door and Suga looked up. “We’re going out for, well, I’m not sure what Makki and Mattsun have planned. Do you want to come with?” He asked and walked further in.

“No.” Suga shook his head with a little smile. “They’re your friends. I don’t want to impose.”

“They live in the building, Suga-chan. I’m pretty sure they’re soon going to be your friends too.”

Suga’s smile widened for a second before his eyes trailed down. “I don’t feel like going out tonight,” he spoke to the open book in his hands.

Oikawa studied him for a moment. He had seemed to be having a good day, but...

“I can stay home too. Keep you company. I don’t have to go out with them.”

“What?” Suga looked up in surprise. 

“If you don’t want to be alone, I can stay.”

“No. There’s no need for you to stay. I’m fine,” Suga insisted.

“Are you sure? You’re reading again.”

Suga stood up, dropping his book on the bed. “Yes, I’m sure.” He started to push Oikawa backwards out of his room, his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders, thoroughly surprising Oikawa with the handling. “Go. Be young and have fun with your friends. I’m fine.”  

“I know you’re fine. You keep repeating it,” Oikawa said and let himself be steered out of Suga’s room and into the hallway, where Suga spun him around and started to push him forward. “I’m just saying that if you don’t want to be alone, I can stay.”

“I’ll be fine, Oikawa.” Suga kept insisting when they arrived to the living room.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were already waiting by the front door. Almost matching smirks of amusement spread on their lips when they saw Suga pushing Oikawa ahead.

“You know what, Suga-chan. I’ll believe that you’re fine when you stop saying “I’m fine” whenever someone expresses concern about you,” Oikawa said, but decided to let go off his worry for now, in the face of Suga’s resolve to stay home alone.

Suga let out an exasperated sigh and stopped pushing Oikawa.

“Promise to take good care of him,” Suga spoke past Oikawa to Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“We will,” Hanamaki said and slung his arm around Oikawa’s neck in a friendly manner. “Aren’t you coming?”

“No.” Suga shook his head again with a little smile before he turned to look at Oikawa again. “Now go and don’t come back until you’ve had fun with your friends.” 

Oikawa yelped when Suga’s knee nudged him on his ass. “Alright, I’m going. There’s no need for physical violence.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa chuckled.

“And here we were worried about you,” Matsukawa said as Oikawa crouched down to put his shoes on.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come too?” Hanamaki asked from Suga.

“I’m sure,” Suga said and held Oikawa’s jacket out for him. “Go before I decide to drag you out of here.”

“Maybe I should let you drag me out,” he said and shrugged his jacket on. “That way you’d have to go out too.”

He let a little flirting slip into his tone and he didn’t miss the look Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged. It was fine that they noticed it. He hoped it would be fine that they noticed it. It didn’t mean anything. Much.

“Some other time, maybe.” Suga matched Oikawa’s tone.

“Promise?” Oikawa raised his eyebrow.

“If you go right now.”

Oikawa eyed Suga’s smile and decided to believe him. Maybe there was no need to worry about him reading again. He had read every now and then back when he and Terushima had been together.

“Okay,” he nodded and turned to Hanamaki and Matsukawa. “Ready to go?”

“We’ve been waiting for you,” Hanamaki stated and opened the door.

“But aren’t I worth the wait?” Oikawa grinned.

“Let’s go,” Matsukawa urged and Oikawa waved to Suga before he closed the door.

“So, you’re into Suga,” Hanamaki said when they descended the stairs.

“What?” Oikawa was taken back by the conversational tone he used.

“We’ve never seen you flirt with anyone like that since Iwaizumi.” Matsukawa said.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took about 10 chapters to get here after what I set up back in chapter 6 with Makki and Mattsun. How did this blow up like this?! 
> 
> And this was mainly just me working out the feels and thoughts of breaking up Suga and Terushima. I really didn't think I felt so strongly about them, but here we are.  
> I think I'm done with the feels for now though :)
> 
> Anyway, since it's been a bit sad for the last chapters, next one is going to be more fun. And it's someone's birthday again. 
> 
> to be continued:  
> "Everyone keeps hugging you tonight."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitten captain gets older

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV changes a lot between Suga and Oikawa (meaning everything to do with the birthday boy is only in the background and barely even there)  
> Not sorry :D

 

Can kittens blow out their birthday candles?

 

* * *

 

 

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa said when he sat down and leaned his head on his crossed arms on the kitchen island. “Can you make the brightness go away?”

“Hangover?” Suga asked and went to lower the curtains by the windows, making the kitchen fall into darkness.

“Just a little.”

“I’m sorry you’re feeling miserable.” Suga caressed Oikawa’s hair softly in a fleeting motion when he walked by him. “What’s your cure?”

Oikawa raised his head up and looked at Suga. “Coffee.”

“I don’t believe you,” Suga said with a little smile, but went to make coffee for him anyway.

Oikawa lied his head back down on his crossed arms. “I don’t really have a cure. I just have to ride it out.”

“Do you want some painkillers?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you Suga-chan,” Oikawa said in a grateful voice and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Suga studied him for a moment. “How late did you come home last night?” He asked and mimicked Oikawa’s position across from him, eyes on the same level.

“I’m not sure,” Oikawa answered slowly.

Suga smiled a little wider. “Where did you end up?”

“We went to sing karaoke.” Oikawa grinned at the memory. “You should have come with us.”

“I’m not much of a singer.”

“Then you definitely should have come.”

“So you could mock my singing?”

“That’s part of the fun of karaoke,” Oikawa insisted.

Suga chuckled a little at Oikawa’s tone that was a mix of seriousness and teasing.

“What did you do?” Oikawa asked and raised his head to lean it into his hand. “Please don’t tell me you read the whole night.”

“What’s wrong with me reading?” Suga asked, raising his head as well, but still leaning his arms on the island.

But he knew why Oikawa was worried about him reading.

Oikawa must’ve known he knew because he didn’t answer.

Suga smiled softly at Oikawa to reassure him. “I didn’t read the whole night.”

“What else did you do then?”

“Well, I made a dent on the two weeks of laundry sitting in my hamper. And I cleaned a little.”

“A wild Friday night for you then.” Oikawa stated with a teasing smile.

“You should have seen me, sliding around the living room dressed in nothing but a dress shirt, boxers and socks and singing and dancing along to “Old Time Rock and Roll”.” Suga described with a mischievous smile. He wasn’t going to be teased about spending his Fridays at home doing chores.

Oikawa’s smile widened to an amused one. “I’m sorry I missed that.”

“Me too,” Suga admitted and straightened up. “I made Tom Cruise jealous,” he added and went to pour coffee for Oikawa, hearing his light laughter behind him as he sweetened the coffee like he knew the man liked, and placed it on the island in front of him.

Oikawa took a sip of the coffee and Suga paid close attention to his expression. He was pleased that Oikawa deemed it drinkable.

“What were you doing when I came?” Oikawa asked then, looking at Suga’s forgotten project on the counter.

“I was decorating Kuroo’s cake.”

“Oh yeah, it’s his birthday.” Oikawa rubbed his eyes. “Don’t let me drink tonight.”

“I think that’s impossible.” Suga stated with a smile.

Oikawa huffed in laughter but he turned serious a second later. “How come you never drink?”

“I do,” Suga protested softly.

“I’ve yet to see alcohol in your hand.”

“I don’t drink often,” Suga amended. “But I do drink sometimes.”

“I can’t wait to see you drunk.”

“I hope you have Daichi-levels of patience then.”

“No one has Daichi-levels of patience but Daichi,” Oikawa stated.

“Too bad then,” Suga said with a wicked grin and turned back to decorating Kuroo’s cake.

“Sugaaa...” Came Oikawa’s miserable whine.

Suga bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh out loud.

 

...

 

Oikawa’s hangover had subsided during the day, thanks to Suga’s kindness and caretaking, the copious amounts of water he had drank, the darkness inside the apartment and painkillers he had grudgingly taken.

“Can you explain something to me?” Suga asked with a serious tone.

“I can try,” Oikawa promised.

“How does Ariel decide which sea creatures are her friends and which ones are her bra?”

Oikawa let out a snort and looked at him in surprise. “Suga? Are you serious?”

About the topic of conversation? About life? About anything ever?

“I’m always serious about sea creatures.” Suga stated.

Oikawa smiled at the man’s determination.

“Did you know that there are no shrimps in this movie?” Suga asked again, this time tilting his head as he watched the TV.

“About that,” Oikawa started and cleared his throat. “Why are we watching this movie?”

Suga turned to look at Oikawa and held a steady eye contact before he spoke.

“To be honest,” Suga blinked slowly, “I have no idea.”

Oikawa chuckled and Suga joined him, their laughter ringing inside the dark living room.

They were sitting on the same couch once again, in the opposite ends, Suga’s legs thrown over the stretch of the couch. When Oikawa had sat down, he had lifted Suga’s legs into his lap. He was secretly, even from himself, happy that Suga hadn’t pulled his legs away, but let Oikawa softly, the movement barely even there, massage his calves that were resting on his thighs.

“Oh, when is everyone coming today?” Oikawa asked.

“Around five o’clock. Kuroo’s working until six so it’ll give us a bit over an hour to prepare.” Suga explained. “And I need you to promise me something.”

“Promise what?”  

“No food fights this time,” Suga said and clearly meant it.

“I promise.” Oikawa crossed his heart and lifted his hand. He wasn’t so fond of the idea of having a food fight anyway, not when he’d have to clean it up.

Oikawa checked the time. It was two o’clock. The cake had been done and decorated already and it was waiting in the fridge along with other snacks and foods. There was still plenty of time until anyone came and there was nothing to do.

“Suga-chan?”

“Hm?” Suga turned his kind eyes towards him again.

“Is it okay if I take a little nap?”

“Of course.” Suga smiled. “You don’t have to ask my permission.”

Oikawa smiled back, lifted Suga’s legs off of his lap and threw his own legs on the couch, next to Suga’s.

“I was just making sure that you don’t need help with anything right now,” he said as he slumped down to lie on his back. He could feel Suga’s body heat radiating next to him.

“Do you want me to turn the TV off?”

“No, it’s fine.” Oikawa closed his eyes. He put his hand on Suga’s shin, wrapping his fingers around the calf. “It doesn’t bother me.”  

Oikawa couldn’t see it with closed eyes but he was sure there was a soft smile on Suga’s lips. He was glad that he looked happy today. It had been some time that Suga had seemed so carefree and openly smiling through an entire day. Maybe he was looking forward to the party too.

Oikawa fell into his daydreams while Sebastian was readying the orchestra for the biggest build up for a kiss that doesn’t happen in an animated movie.  

When he woke up, Suga was still next to him. He had brought his legs closer to himself, knees a little bent so Oikawa’s hand was now resting on his ankle. There was the smallest contented smile on Suga’s lips. It would seem that Suga was slowly but surely getting over his heartbreak.

“What are you watching?” Oikawa asked, noticing even without his glasses that the scenery had turned from the blue Atlantic Ocean to something with hills and green grass.

“Nothing that I’m paying attention to.”

“What were you thinking then?” Oikawa was intrigued.

“Nothing really.” Suga answered, and Oikawa believed him. There was a calm and relaxed feel in the living room, it would be easy to zone out.

Oikawa looked around to find a clock, but couldn’t see the time. “How long did I sleep?”

“About two hours.”

Oikawa rubbed his eyes and ran his hands down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

“I don’t mind.”  

“Are you sure?”

Suga nodded.

“Do you want your glasses back?” he asked then in a kind voice. “I took them off when you fell asleep so you wouldn’t accidentally squish them against your cheek or nose or break them.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Suga reached for them on the coffee table and handed them back to him.

Oikawa slid the frames on, bringing Suga and his kind eyes and soft smile into sharp focus. He would have said something else then too, but didn’t get a chance to when their front door opened.

 

...

 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto called in excitement when he came in, Akaashi following in his footsteps. “Are we having a party here or not?”

“Hey Bokuto, Akaashi.” Suga greeted them softly and tilted his head upside down over the couch’s armrest to look at them. Bokuto was dressed in his usual sloppy manner and Akaashi in stark difference was dressed as neatly as ever. Suga found it ever-endearing how their differences complimented them as a couple.

“Where are all the party decorations?” Bokuto asked, looking around.

“There’s still time.” Suga answered, bringing his head back up and Akaashi wrapped his arms around Suga’s shoulders from behind, resting his chin on Suga’s shoulder.

“How are you?” Akaashi asked quietly. Suga closed his eyes at the affection.

“I’m fine.” He told the truth and opened his eyes when Akaashi slid his arms away. Oikawa was studying them with a placid expression Suga was sure was rehearsed.

“Are you sure?” Bokuto asked.

Suga held in his sigh. He had been afraid that everyone would be extra careful around him. He didn’t want that, he didn’t need that.

“We don’t have to have the party here.” Akaashi complied with Bokuto when he sat down next to him on the coffee table.

Suga met his eyes, his serious and worried eyes. How could he convince them that he was fine?

“Really, I’m fine.” He nodded along as he stressed his words. “Oikawa, will you tell them that I’m fine?” He nudged Oikawa with his free foot.

Oikawa looked at him for a second, the smallest smile on his lips, before he looked at Bokuto and Akaashi.

“He’s fine. He made a cake and everything,” Oikawa said, his thumb gently rubbing on Suga’s ankle.

“Wow. Really?” Bokuto was getting excited again. “Then what can we do to help?”

“I want to wait for Kenma to come. He said he’d help.” Suga told them.

“Kenma offered to help?” Akaashi asked.

“It’s his best friend’s 25th birthday. Of course he offered to help,” Bokuto said like it was obvious.

“This party was his idea,” Suga added. It had been sweet of Kenma to suggest the party and offer to help. And very unlike him. Suga thought it was amazing that he could surprise everyone with it once in a while.  

And as if on cue of mentioning his name, there was a knock on the door and a second later Kenma opened it and stepped in.

He nodded towards everyone and took his shoes off.

“Kenma, before we start decorating here, do you want us to move the gift Kuroo got you?” Oikawa pointed behind him towards the big box still wrapped in the red paper.

Somehow it was still sitting untouched in their living room after a month.

“No,” Kenma said, studying the box. There was a distrustful look in his eyes.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Bokuto asked.

“No,” Kenma answered again. “I’m going to give it to Kuro as a birthday gift.”

“Isn’t it bad manners to regift a gift?” Oikawa asked.

“I don’t trust it.” Kenma kept eyeing the gift.

“It hasn’t blown up in our living room yet.” Suga noted.

“Then he’ll be happy to have it. Whatever it is.” Kenma stated.

“And he’s going to give it back to you.” Bokuto said.

“Oh no.” Suga bemoaned. “It’s going to be another Totoro-hat situation isn’t it?” He hid his face behind his hands with the memory. Akaashi and Bokuto groaned with him.

“A what?” Oikawa asked.

“One year, Kuroo gave me a hat that had a Totoro on top of it. I know what you’re thinking, Totoro’s kind of cute and it wouldn’t be that bad. And it wouldn’t have been, if it had been a normal looking Totoro.” Bokuto explained.

“This Totoro was the Totoro from nightmares.” Suga thought back in horror.

“And to get rid of it, I gave it to Nishinoya for his birthday and he gave it to Kenma and Kenma gave it to Lev. It went like that for years, whoever had it, gave it to the person who’s birthday was next.” Bokuto continued. “It was like a curse that went around and around.”

“What happened to the hat? It hasn’t been gifted for a while, has it?” Akaashi asked and looked from Suga to Bokuto to Kenma.

“I don’t think I’ve seen it for a year,” Suga thought back.

Everyone turned their heads to look at the gift.

“I’m going to kill Kuro if that hat is in there.” Kenma calmly stated as he looked at the box.

“You’d have to open it to know for sure,” Oikawa pointed out.

“I can’t have it here. Get that cursed hat out of my apartment!” Suga shouted, pointing at it.

“I’m not having it either,” Kenma said, offended.

“It might not even be the hat,” Oikawa said hopefully.

“But it could be the hat.”

“It’s like the Schrödinger’s cat. The hat is and isn’t in the box until we open it,” Akaashi said.

“No one’s opening it!” Bokuto exclaimed in sudden panic.

“I’ll give the gift to Kuro and this problem goes away,” Kenma said. He was a lot calmer than everyone else.

“No, you can’t give it to him.” Akaashi spoke quickly. “My birthday’s next. He’ll just give it to me.”

“Get that thing out of here!” Suga wailed.

Oikawa kept laughing as everyone was freaking out over a hat, his hand still resting on Suga’s ankle, his hand touching the bare skin there.

 

...

 

Kuroo’s birthday party was in full swing, so to speak. No one was swinging of course, and there were no swings. But the music was loud and people were talking and laughing over it. Everyone seemed to be having fun.

Maybe too much fun in some cases, if Yamamoto’s loud cackling was anything to go by.

But how many times does anyone turn 25? Only once. (Unless you were Suga’s mother who has turned 25 for 24 years in a row)

Before things got too out of hand or the party too wild, Suga took out the birthday cake he had made from the fridge. He knew that if he waited much longer, no one would be able to focus and his prank would go to waste.

“Here.” Oikawa handed him the candles, appearing out of nowhere.

“Thanks.” Suga smiled and took them.

“So, I have a question.” Oikawa leaned his hip on the counter next to Suga and observed as he put the candles on the cake. “Kuroo and Daichi dated right?”

Suga nodded. He was focused on counting the right number of candles.

“Is that why he’s here?”

“I guess so.” Suga looked over his shoulder and saw Daichi and Iwaizumi talking with Asahi. “Kuroo must’ve invited him.”

“Are they good friends?”

Suga looked at Oikawa and noticed his expression. He was suspicious.

“Are you worried that Kuroo invited Daichi as a part of his grand plan to steal him back from Iwaizumi?” Suga asked with a hint of amusement. Kuroo would never do something like that, no matter how cunning he was.

Oikawa looked at Suga with a serious set in his eyes.

“He’s not going to do that, Oikawa.” Suga nudged with his head to the side. “Look at Kuroo.”

Oikawa turned his head to look where Suga gestured.

Kuroo was hanging of the neck of his boyfriend, smiling softly at him.

“He’s too in love to think about anyone else.”

Oikawa turned back to Suga.

“And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t try to steal Daichi. They are friends, yes, and that’s exactly why,” Suga added and Oikawa’s suspicion seemed to melt away. “Now, go and get him so he can blow his candles.”

“Yes, sir.” Oikawa saluted with an impish grin and went.

Suga shook his head and lit the candles, with an impish grin of his own. There were 26 candles on the cake, purposefully. Kuroo was going to hate it. Suga looked forward to it.

“The cake looks great,” Akaashi said next to him.

Suga smiled at the praise. Good, he wasn’t the only one who thought he had done a good job. “Thanks, Akaashi.”

“Did I count the candles right?” He looked at Suga with a question in his hooded eyes.

“If you counted 26, then yes you did.”

“Kuroo’s going to kill you.”

Suga flapped his hand. “He can try.”

“By the way, how are you doing?”

Suga looked up from the candles he was lighting, mindful that he didn’t set his sleeves on fire. There was worry in Akaashi’s eyes. Suga lid the last candle before he answered.

“Is this the future therapist in you asking?”

“Maybe.”

Suga put the lighter away. “You don’t have to keep asking me.”

Akaashi didn’t say anything and Suga could feel his gaze.

Suga sighed, but didn’t turn to look at him. “I’ve been better.”

He saw Akaashi nod from the corner of his eye. He might’ve not been doing as well as he could be, but there was no need for Akaashi to worry. He was fine.

“Whoa, nice cake, Suga,” Lev said when he appeared next to them before he could further show Akaashi how okay he was.

“Thanks.” Suga smiled and picked the cake up. “Lev, why don’t you start the singing?”

“Really? Okay.” Lev looked excited and went in front of Suga, bellowing happy birthday at the top of his lungs.

As others joined in the song too, Suga carefully put the cake down in front of Kuroo on the kitchen table where Oikawa had steered him.  

Kuroo was grinning, his arm around Tsukishima’s waist as he waited to blow out the candles.

Suga watched with rapt interest how Kuroo counted the candles and he bit his lip to stop the grin when Kuroo’s eyes narrowed and lifted to meet his.

“Remember to make a wish when you blow out the candles,” Yaku instructed.

Kuroo was still looking at Suga with narrowed eyes, but he took a big breath and bent down to blow out the candles.

The candles lit up again immediately.

Bokuto laughed the loudest. “I think the candles resented your wish.”

Kuroo blew again. And again. The candles just wouldn’t stay put out. And everyone else but Kuroo was laughing. Suga knew he was a dead man walking.

Kuroo sighed from frustration after the fifth time. “Did you do this Suga?”

Bokuto was laughing on the floor, various partiers were holding onto something or someone so they wouldn’t go the same way with Bokuto as they kept laughing too. Kenma was trying his hardest not to laugh, holding his hand in front of his mouth. Even Tsukishima had trouble containing his laughter.

“Are you asking if I have magical superpowers? Then, no I didn’t do this.”

“Suga...” Kuroo said menacingly. Suga wasn’t even a little bit scared.

“You little shit.” Kuroo narrowed his eyes even more. Suga grinned widely back.

“And 26 candles? You’re so dead.” Kuroo leaned his hands to the back of the chair that was in front of him.

A loud snort was heard from under the table. Bokuto.

“I’m not really that worried.” Suga shrugged.

Kuroo sighed and everyone eventually calmed down. Bokuto however was still howling on the floor.

“Are we going to wait for the candles to melt into the cake or...?” Yamamoto asked.

“No, I’ll take them.” Suga relented and started to pick up some of the candles. Daichi and Asahi helped him. They took the still burning candles to the kitchen and ran them under a tap.

“If you touch my cake I will make you eat your hands.” Suga heard Kuroo say with menace. He turned around in the kitchen towards the voice and saw Kuroo pointing a cake knife at Lev who had his hands up defensively.

Daichi chuckled next to Suga. “Next year when he does turn 26, are you going to put 27 candles?”

“No.” Suga shook his head and leaned on the counter to watch Kuroo cut a piece of cake.

It was a valid question from Daichi about the candles. Last year Suga had put 25 candles on the cake and the year before that, 24. Always one more than how old he was.

“Next year I’m just going to put a candle in the shape of a number 1 on a cupcake and be done with it.”

“One of these days he’s going to kill you,” Daichi said.

“I’m too much fun to have around for him to kill me,” Suga assured him.

Daichi clapped him on the shoulder and smiled widely. Suga knew that he was worried too, just like Akaashi and probably happy to see Suga smile and laugh. It did feel good to smile and laugh. He had missed it.

 

...

 

“Hey Hinata,” Suga said when the man came to sit next to him.

“Hey,” he answered with a bright smile.

“Having fun?”

Hinata nodded.

“How’s work? Or are you still working at the coffee shop?” Suga asked, not knowing why. It would only lead to something he didn’t want to talk or hear about.

“I am. Work’s good.” Hinata answered, but didn’t look at him.

“I’m glad.” Suga smiled a little.

Hinata looked up to him carefully. “Do you want to know how Terushima-san is doing?”

“No.” Suga’s smile died.

He really didn’t want to know. He would hate to know whether he was okay or miserable. Both options would just make him sad again. It was easier to just not think about Terushima.

“He didn’t come to work for a few days.”

“I don’t want to know, Hinata,” Suga said in a low voice.

“Okay, sorry.” Hinata dropped his gaze.

“It’s fine,” Suga assured him. “I just... I don’t want to hear about him.”

“Okay.”  

“Hey,” Tanaka said when he joined them and Suga swallowed a relieved sigh. He hated the position Hinata had inadvertently ended in with his and Terushima’s break up.

“What’s up Tanaka?” Suga asked, focusing on him instead of the awkward topic he and Hinata were dancing around.

“Not much. Just trying to ignore the two sitting on the couch by the window.”

Suga and Hinata looked over their shoulders towards the living room.

“Oh, yeah. They get really close when they’re drinking.” Suga stated when he turned back to look at Tanaka.

“It’s getting really hard to pretend I don’t know about them,” Tanaka said.

Suga looked at the couple sitting on the couch again, noticing the animated way Nishinoya was talking about something, the soft way Asahi was smiling at him and how they sat close enough for their arms to touch.

“Maybe we should tell them.” Hinata suggested, his expression bright again instead of careful.

“It could be for the best. Everyone knows already.” Tanaka agreed. “I know Noya wouldn’t mind.”

“But Asahi would freak out.” Suga reminded them.

“I guess we just have to keep waiting then.” Tanaka sighed and leaned his chin on his hand. “How are you doing, Suga?”

Suga met his steady eyes. “I’m fine.”

“And Kiyoko?”

Of course Tanaka would ask about her. “She’s fine too. As beautiful as she’s always been.”

Tanaka cradled his chin in his hands and let out a dreamy sigh.

Suga rubbed his head affectionately. It was sweet how Tanaka was still crushing on her. If only she was interested in men, maybe Tanaka would have a chance.

 

...

 

Oikawa was standing alone in the kitchen, his face hidden in his hands.

“Are you still hangover?” Iwaizumi asked, alerting Oikawa to his presence.   

“No, I’m suffering from secondhand embarrassment.”

“Why?”

“Makki and Mattsun were recounting the tale of their first college party.” Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi through the cracks between his fingers.

Iwaizumi laughed. “They’re just making friends.”

“It’s absurd how they can make friends with that story.” Oikawa said gravely. It really was a weird story and even weirder was how they managed to get sympathy points and connect with people with it.

Iwaizumi laughed again, the sound loud and... free.

Oikawa dropped his hands and studied his best friend. “You’re drunk.”

He was astounded. It had been a while since Iwaizumi had drank enough to drop his guard like that and laugh like it was coming from deep down from inside him.  

“Look around you,” Iwaizumi instructed. “Everyone here is a little drunk.”

“Not everyone,” Oikawa argued and turned to look at Suga. He didn’t need to look around for him, knowing where he would be, currently sitting with Hinata.

“Suga rarely drinks.” Iwaizumi informed him.

“Do you know why?”

“He’s a lightweight.”

Oikawa perked a little and turned back to Iwaizumi. “He is?”

“Why are you so interested about this?”

“I’ve just never seen him drunk and I’m intrigued why he doesn’t drink.” Oikawa explained with a defensive tone.

Iwaizumi smiled like he knew a spoiler of Oikawa’s favorite show and wanted to tangle it in front of him. “Daichi?” He called and the man came to them.

“Suga’s a lightweight, right?”

“Definitely,” Daichi nodded with his serious tone.

“How bad is it?” Oikawa asked, deciding to ignore Iwaizumi’s knowing smile.

“It’s not bad. But all the soft qualities of his personality are heightened. If you don’t want him to pet your hair and chant “soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur”, don’t let him drink.” Daichi explained, his tone still serious, but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

Oikawa’s smile widened at the image Daichi painted with his words. “Seriously?”

“That’s what he did the first time he met Iwaizumi,” Daichi answered.

“What?” Oikawa burst into loud laughter, imagining Suga petting Iwaizumi’s hair.

“Can you let me in on this joke too?” Kuroo, who had been talking with Daichi, asked when he came to them as well.

“I just explained what Suga’s like when he’s drunk,” Daichi answered him.

“Oh yeah. He’s adorable,” Kuroo stated with a smirk. “Kind of like Kenma.”

“What’s he like?”

“Pretty much himself, but he keeps meowing at every cat he sees.”

Oikawa laughed loudly again. That was the best piece of information he had ever gotten. Why was everyone in the building weird when they were drunk?

“I wouldn’t laugh if I we’re you, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said.

“Why?”

“Whenever you’re drunk, you start spewing Star Wars quotes and facts,” Daichi answered.

“Plus, last night you wanted to sing the canteen song at karaoke,” Iwaizumi said.

Kuroo burst into violent laughter, holding his middle as he fought for breath.

“What’s wrong with Star Wars?” Oikawa asked, a little offended at Kuroo’s reaction.

“It’s Star Wars. It’s not that good,” Daichi said.

Correction, he was really offended. “You want to go home and rethink your life.” Oikawa moved his hand in the air in front of Daichi like he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, making Kuroo laugh even louder.

“Now I’m experiencing secondhand embarrassment,” Iwaizumi said in a calm voice, but with a slight smile.

Kuroo kept laughing like a hoarse hyena.

“Stop being mean.” Oikawa whined a little. “I’m going to go talk to people I actually like,” he informed them then and left the kitchen.

 

...

 

The party was going by quickly and Suga had barely had a second alone. Just a minute ago, Suga had extricated himself from Bokuto and Tsukishima and found the kitchen island empty. He had sat down, knowing he wouldn’t be alone for long.

“How’re you doing, Suga?” Yaku asked when he sat down next to him. He had been right.

“Everyone keeps asking me that,” Suga said.

“Because we care about you,” Yaku said softly.

Suga leaned his chin on his hand and looked at him with a soft smile. It was sweet how everyone cared, but it would be nicer if they didn’t feel compelled to ask every ten minutes. Was there something in his expression that prompted them to ask?

“We saw how much you loved him,” Yaku said after a beat. “It’s okay to not be fine.”

Suga looked at Yaku and he was sure that his smile had turned sad. He couldn’t help it.

“I know.”

“And if you do want to talk about it, we’re here.”

Suga nodded, accepting this.

“And it’s okay if you don’t want to talk. We get it. We’ll deal with it. We’ll stop asking if that’s what you want. But we’ll never, ever, stop caring about you.” Yaku stressed the last words and pulled Suga into a one armed hug.

It felt nice to hear those words. No matter what happened, he had his friends.

“What’s going on? Can I get in on this hug too?” Nishinoya asked on the other side of Suga.

Suga and Yaku chuckled and pulled Nishinoya in.

“You made a very delicious cake, Suga,” Nishinoya said and they pulled apart from the hug.

“Thank you.”

“But I almost expected it to be a sponge covered in whipped cream when Kuroo cut into it,” Nishinoya admitted. “You’re always pranking him on his birthday.”

“The candles were the prank this year,” Suga told him. “And I’ve done the sponge thing before.”

“You have?” Nishinoya’s eyebrows shot up.

“Four years ago.” Suga thought back.

“I remember that.” Yaku nodded. “Bokuto cried.”

“He didn’t.” Nishinoya didn’t believe it.

“He did.” Suga grinned.

“He was looking at this big, beautifully decorated cake, totally covered in whipped cream and candy and sprinkles.” Yaku painted the picture for Nishinoya. “And then Kuroo cut into it. Or tried to. They were so disappointed.” Yaku shook his head, his voice hinting at the graveness of the situation. “It was funny.” His lips split into a wide grin.

“It was,” Suga agreed and pushed himself down from the kitchen island stool. “I have to go the bathroom,” he told Nishinoya and Yaku. As he walked away, he heard Yaku tell another story of how Suga had pranked Kuroo on his birthday, a story containing the words “kids’ chemistry set” and a lab coat five sizes too small.

In the hallway Suga noticed a couple who had mysteriously disappeared some time ago sitting on the floor, and he wasn’t even a little bit surprised to find them here, making out.

Kenma was leaning his back to the wall, while Hinata was straddling his legs. They were adorable like that, more cute than anything else. Suga felt a little sting in his heart.

“Hey kids,” he alerted them, but they didn’t react in any way. “Keep your hands above clothes,” he told them. They both lifted their hands up into sight, but kept their mouths and tongues busy as Suga walked past them and dropped their hands almost immediately to hold on to each other.

Suga chuckled softly and closed the bathroom door on the sight. Somehow, it reminded him off Terushima.

He leaned his back and head to the door, his gaze angled up to the ceiling. He wasn’t aching anymore, his heart wasn’t hurting anymore. But alone wasn’t better than surrounded by friends.

Suga took a shuddering breath and let it out slowly to steady himself. He was fine. It was okay to miss someone. He wondered when that would go away. How much longer until he wasn’t missing Terushima anymore?

 

...

 

“I love this song!” Tanaka shouted all of a sudden, scaring the ones standing closest to him. He took off his shirt and started to wave it in circles in time with the music’s beat.

“I have to be honest,” Oikawa said to Hanamaki, who he had found shortly after his so-called-friends had laughed him out of the kitchen. “It’s gotten to the point where I have to pretend that the nudity surprises me.”

“This is a normal occurrence then?” Hanamaki asked, taking a sip from the bottle he had been nursing for some time already.

“Yes,” Oikawa answered, watching Tanaka with mild disinterest. “But this is new,” he added, when Yamamoto pulled his shirt off too and joined Tanaka in the wild dance moves.

“You know, if I was fit like them, I wouldn’t exactly hide it either.”

“Then why are you hiding it?” Oikawa grinned at his friend, knowing that he was just as fit as Tanaka.

“Shut up.” Hanamaki lightly smacked him on his stomach with the back of his hand. “Anyway, any word from Mr and Mrs. Grumpypuss?”

Oikawa laughed at the name Hanamaki and Matsukawa always used when they talked about his parents.

“No, not a beep,” Oikawa said with a smile. “But I know they’re alive. Iwa-chan’s mom is still close with mine, so I’m sort of in the loop on how they’re doing.”

“So, you’re not going to go back home on your next school break and surprise them with a visit?” Hanamaki asked with a slightly mischievous smile.

“I don’t think so,” Oikawa shook his head.

“Hey guys,” Nishinoya interrupted their conversation. Oikawa didn’t mind one bit that he did and they turned to look at the smaller man.

“We’re doing a gallup on people’s kinks. Do you want to participate?” He asked eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Oikawa looked around, but only saw Nishinoya.

“Okay, I am. I’m a little bored,” he admitted.

“Even with Tanaka and Yamamoto’s shirtless dancing?” Hanamaki raised his eyebrows when he asked.

“I’ve seen it before.” Nishinoya’s tone suggested that this happened even more often and Oikawa was a little intrigued to know more. For example, how often did this happen? And where? And what was the cause and how did it end?

“So, any kinks?” Nishinoya asked before Oikawa had the chance to inquire further into the habits of Tanaka and Yamamoto.  

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for you to ask me about this,” Hanamaki answered honestly.

“That’s cool.” Nishinoya shrugged. “Oikawa?”

“Sure, I’m into some kinks,” Oikawa answered smoothly.

“Really?” Nishinoya turned his attention fully on him.

“Yeah.” Oikawa nodded with his poker face. “Have you heard of kissing?”

Hanamaki snickered.

“Fine, don’t take this seriously,” Nishinoya said, but he didn’t look too disappointed.

“Why would you want to know others’ kinks?” Oikawa asked. It seemed a little random.

“I told you. I’m bored,” Nishinoya answered with a nonchalant shrug.

“Who else have you asked?” Hanamaki asked.

“Asahi!” Nishinoya exclaimed, surprising Oikawa, until he noticed the tall man approaching them.

“Hey, um, Oikawa?”  Asahi asked carefully, glancing at Nishinoya but then going out of his way to not look at him.

“Yeah?” Oikawa hid his smile. He found their lack of subtlety amusing.

“Have you seen Suga?”

Oikawa looked around, thinking back when he last saw the man. “Not for a while. Last I saw him, he was talking with Yaku.”

“I wonder where he went.” Asahi said with a worried frown.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Oikawa assured. Suga hadn’t been alone for a minute since Oikawa had woken up and probably wanted a breather.

“I was just talking to him,” Nishinoya added, reassuring Asahi further. “He was fine.”

“Hmm...” Asahi kept looking around, searching for Suga, but Oikawa was sure it was also a way not to look at Nishinoya.

“Hey, Noya,” Oikawa said with a smirk. “Why don’t you ask Asahi about his kinks?” He suggested, trying to tease them and make them flustered.  

Nishinoya turned to him, his face impassive. “Do you really think Asahi would have kinks?” He was clearly beyond any teasing.

The same couldn’t be said about Asahi, though.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa said and looked at Asahi and the flush spreading along his cheeks. “It’s always the quiet ones with the weirdest kinks, isn’t it?”

“Oh!” Nishinoya perked up like he was reminded of something. “Fukunaga!” He hollered and took off.

“I like him,” Hanamaki stated and Oikawa had to agree.

“He’s cool,” Oikawa said. “Don’t you think so too, Asahi?” He asked from the man with a smirk.

“I’m going to go look for Suga,” he answered quickly and left them alone.

Oikawa looked after him for a second before he turned back to face Hanamaki. “Are you and Mattsun going back home for new year?” He asked, returning to their earlier interrupted conversation.

“Yeah,” Hanamaki nodded. “Oh, looks like Asahi found Suga.”

Oikawa turned to look and smiled when he saw Suga laughing.

“Why is everyone so worried about him? He seems fine.” Hanamaki asked. 

“He just broke up.”

“Oh.”

Oikawa glanced at Hanamaki.

“Was it bad?” Hanamaki asked, looking a little worried now too.

“He took it hard.”

“You and Iwaizumi -break up hard?”

Oikawa nodded.

“Maybe we should stop with suggestions about Suga then,” Hanamaki mused seriously.

“That’d be appreciated.”

“Hm... Yeah, we’re not going to do that.” Hanamaki changed his expression to a grin and Oikawa hung his head back in tired exasperation.

“Makki...” He whined. “I’m not into Suga.”

He had done all he could to prove that to them last night, even tried Jedi mind tricks, but without avail. For some reason, they were convinced and their minds couldn’t be changed about it.

“Sure, whatever you say.”

And even if he was into Suga, not that he’d admit it, he was sure that Suga didn’t reciprocate. He was still hung up on Terushima. Oikawa was aware of the bag sitting in Suga’s room, untouched and undelivered.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t care or worry about Suga, or that he wouldn’t give him comfort the instant he noticed it was needed.

 

...

 

Suga had moved to sit by the dining table when the party had obviously started to wind down. He was looking around the apartment, at the people who hadn’t given up and left already.

“Suga, we’re going to take off,” Bokuto said, appearing next to the table.

“Alright,” Suga nodded, looking up to him.

Arms wrapping around his shoulders surprised him a little, but he recognized them to belong to Akaashi, who was hugging him again.

“I’m fine, Akaashi,” Suga said with a small smile. It didn’t seem to matter how many times he said it, though. No one didn’t seem to believe him and kept expressing comfort and care. It was both sweet and too much at the same time.

“I know.” Akaashi straightened up, letting go off Suga.

“We’ll come tomorrow morning to help with the cleaning.” Bokuto hugged Suga too. He was sure that Bokuto was just as drunk as Akaashi. He was a little louder than usual.

“You don’t need to. I can take care of it.”

“We’ll be here.” Bokuto was adamant and patted Suga gently on the shoulder.

“If you insist.” He shrugged, not having anything against some help.

“We do.” Akaashi nodded and with that they waved their goodbyes and started towards the front door.

Suga watched them go and he wasn’t alone for more than a minute when Oikawa sat next to him. It was keeping up with the trend of the night. Suga hadn’t been alone for longer than a minute the whole evening. There was always someone to sit or stand close by and keep him company. He didn’t feel like he needed it, not really, but he was grateful too, even if it felt too much at times.

“Everyone’s hugging you tonight,” Oikawa said. He wasn’t wrong. It was part of the keep Suga happy –concept everyone seemed to be a part of tonight.

Suga couldn’t read his tone, but his expression was a little petulant.  

“Apparently I’m very lovable.”

“But not more lovable than I am,” Oikawa stated.

Suga let out a little laugh at that, but he knew his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Even though the numerous hugs made him feel a little better, it also brought in the reminder of why everyone kept hugging him. It had become tiring.

Oikawa must’ve noticed it, or maybe he just was drunk and wanted to play with Suga’s hair. He didn’t care about Oikawa’s motivation though. He instinctively closed his eyes at the touch and blinked slowly.

“What are you doing?” Suga chuckled quietly when Oikawa started tufting up his hair and he smiled at the feel of Oikawa’s fingers brushing through.

“Nothing.” Oikawa answered innocently, but kept lifting Suga’s hair to stick up and then let it fall back down.

Suga studied Oikawa’s face, the happy smile and the bright eyes. “Are you in a happily inebriated state?” He asked and Oikawa stopped what he was doing.

“Yes.” Oikawa smiled with dazed joy and leaned his head down on his arms he crossed on the table. “Your cake was really good,” he said, looking up at Suga.

“Thank you.”

“Did Terushima teach you how to bake?”

“No,” Suga’s smile faded a little and he looked away, leaning his chin to his hand. He was fine. He was fine as long as he didn’t hear Terushima’s name or he didn’t think of him.

Oikawa straightened to sit up and his hand caressed Suga’s hair again.

Suga took a deep breath, closed his eyes and focused on the feel of fingers running through his hair. “My father did.” Suga started to talk. “We always made a cake for my mother’s birthday and when he died, I kept up the tradition by making one on my own.”

“Hm...” Oikawa hummed. “Do you know how to make milk bread?”

Suga opened his eyes and noticed Oikawa’s following his hand’s movement as it was running through Suga’s hair.

“I’ve never tried,” Suga admitted. “I can give it a go some day,” he promised with a smile and Oikawa stopped the caressing.

He beamed. “Really?”

“Of course,” Suga promised again when Kuroo came to them with a pleased grin.

“Thanks for the party, Suga.”

Suga turned his head from Oikawa to look at Kuroo. “You should thank Kenma, it was his idea.”

Kuroo flipped his hand. “I already did. Before he disappeared.”

“Well, as an introvert he has the uncanny ability to disappear from social activities,” Suga stated.

“That’s true,” Kuroo nodded. “Well, I just came to say bye, we’re going to go.”

Suga looked past Kuroo and saw Tsukishima waiting by the front door. “Okay, have fun on the rest of your birthday," he wished with a smile he felt wholeheartedly.

“I will.” Kuroo grinned, but it turned menacing in a fraction of a second. “Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten your pranks. I’ll pay you back for them.”

“Sure, whatever,” Suga said easily. Kuroo was yet to pay back for any of the pranks in a succeeding way. In one way or another they had all backfired, eliciting endless glee in everyone.

“By the way, don’t forget to take the big box with you.” Suga reminded before he had taken two steps away.

Kuroo stopped and turned around to face them. “No way. It’s Kenma’s.”

“But he gave it to you.”

“But I don’t want it.”

Suga slumped over the table, burying his face in his arms with a low and quiet grumble. He felt someone’s fingers – no, not someone’s, Oikawa’s – slip through his hair and settle to gently massage his neck.

“I want that box out of my apartment.” Suga’s words were muffled.

“Take it up with Kenma. It’s his.”

“He doesn’t want it either.”

“He doesn’t? Why wouldn’t he want it?” Kuroo’s voice had definite incredulity in it and Suga had a feeling he was overdoing it.

“Because it looks suspicious?” Oikawa suggested.

“What could possibly be suspicious about a present that’s bigger than him and wrapped in bright red paper?” Kuroo asked.

Suga sighed and rolled his eyes before he lifted his head up. “Maybe the very facts that it’s bigger than him, it’s wrapped in red paper that just screams something’s wrong with it and it’s _from you.”_ He fixed Kuroo with a hard glare.

Kuroo only shrugged.

“Kuroo, is the Totoro-hat inside the box?” Oikawa asked.

Kuroo grinned. “You’d have to open it to know.”

Suga grumbled and slumped back on the table.

Oikawa’s hand came back on Suga’s neck, his fingers tickling at his hairline.

“Well, anyway, thanks for the party again,” Kuroo said and Suga felt a pat on his shoulder before the man walked away.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked in a quiet voice.

“I’m fine,” Suga answered. “Maybe a little tired.”

“You can go sleep if you want to.”

“No, I’m okay.” Suga sighed in contentment and turned his head, resting his cheek on his arm, to look at Oikawa. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For what you’re doing.” Suga referred to the fingers still gently running at the back of his head. “Feels nice,” he smiled, the curve of his lips small.

Oikawa answered that smile with a similar one. “There’s no need to thank me for this.”

“Still, thank you.” Suga closed his eyes again and relaxed under the gentle touch of Oikawa’s fingers on the back of his neck, every now and then brushing through his hair.

Little did either of them know that someone was watching them from the kitchen.

 

 

“Are you okay with this?” Daichi gestured with his chin.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you still love him.”

“Not that way. Not anymore.” Iwaizumi shook his head. “And Suga could be good for him.”

They fell quiet then, watching their best friends.

“Besides, we don’t even know if something is going on there,” Iwaizumi said.

“Maybe not,” Daichi admitted and the laughter of Suga and Oikawa carried over to them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *in Michael Scott's voice* "Oh my god! Okay, it's happening." 
> 
> *cackles maniacally because this chapter is a hot mess*  
> *doesn't care and updates anyway*  
> *starts on the next chapters to get to write those wonderful OiSuga feels down*
> 
> (I told you I'd keep using Star Wars stuff, but I think my brain glitched when I wrote this chapter and I ended up using my whole repertoire)
> 
> to be continued:  
> "Suga-chan, I find your mother wonderful."
> 
>  
> 
> [ hides face in embarrassment ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone absolutely wonderful comes to visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy "mother" of a chapter.  
> Ha ha :)  
> (You'll get it)

 

Oikawa looked over his laptop screen at Suga, who sat down across from him, sprawling his torso over the dining table, arms wide and head resting on the hard wood. He looked a little anxious, breathing a little faster than usual.

“Hey. Hi. Hello. Good day. How are you?” Suga asked and propped his chin on the table to look at him.

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s antics and pushed his laptop out of the way.

“You alright?” he asked and reached his hand out to stroke Suga’s hair.

“Yeah.” Suga closed his eyes.

The first time Oikawa had caressed Suga’s hair, he had noticed how it seemed to calm him down. That was the main reason he was doing it now too, and it didn’t take long for Suga’s breathing to slow down a little as he ran his fingers through Suga’s hair. Oikawa was pleased that Suga happily accepted his comforting, beyond ecstatic that he seemed to enjoy the feeling. 

After a few deep breaths Suga opened his eyes again, but Oikawa didn’t cease the hair stroking.

“What are you eating?” Suga asked eyeing the bowl in front of Oikawa.

“Just some stir fry. I made plenty. The rest is on the stove.” he told Suga.

Suga sat up, taking a deep breath. Oikawa brought back his hand when it wasn’t connected to Suga anymore and leaned his elbow on the table.

“So, I have a question.” Suga said, reaching towards Oikawa’s food and he took a piece of red pepper.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes as they followed Suga’s hand. “There really is plenty on the stove.”

“I’m not that hungry.” Suga shrugged.

Oikawa let out a little sigh. “So, you had a question.” he prompted Suga to continue.

“Yeah,” Suga said and reached over again. Oikawa let him get away with it again but swore, if Suga did it one more time, he would have to use drastic measures. No matter how much he enjoyed Suga’s company, or liked the man, there was no good reason to steal food from his bowl.

“Would it be okay if my mom stayed here for a weekend?”

“Your mother?”

“Yeah, her friends have a wedding anniversary or something and they’re having the party in Tokyo. She asked if she could stay here so she doesn’t have to pay for a hotel. I can tell her no, if you’re not okay with her staying here.”

Oikawa was fine with it. But he wasn’t going to just say it. Not with Suga reaching out again and taking more of his food. Yet he still didn’t move the bowl out of Suga’s reach.

“When would she be coming?”

“Next week’s weekend.” Suga reached out again.

This time Oikawa stopped him, holding onto Suga’s wrist. “Suga.”

“Hm?”

“Stop.”

“Why?”

“If you’re hungry, get your own bowl.”

“But it tastes better when it’s someone else’s food.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “No wonder you’re always eating from other people’s bowls.”

“You should try it, it really is tastier.”

“How can I when you don’t have one?” Oikawa pointed out a very serious flaw in Suga’s suggestion.

“Hold on, I’ll get one.” Suga stood up and Oikawa’s hand slid from his wrist.

“Suga...” Oikawa bemoaned. “I’m not going to eat your food.”

“You should try it.” Suga said from the stove. “And this way I don’t have to eat yours.” he added and came back to table.

Oikawa watched him sit down and put the bowl in his hand on the table. He watched Suga cross his arms on the table behind the bowl. He watched Suga look down to his bowl and then back up, his face open and filled with anticipation.  

Oikawa sighed and reached over, taking a piece of red pepper with his chopsticks.

“Better, isn’t it?” Suga asked with a smile.

Yes, it was better, just a little bit.  But that wasn’t what he said to Suga.

“It’s fine that your mother stays here.” he said instead and took another bite of food from Suga’s bowl.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Oikawa nodded.

“Thank you.” Suga flashed his brightest smile and started to eat too. Oikawa thought that he should do more nice things to Suga if it meant that Suga would grace him with a smile as bright as that.

“This is really good.” Suga complimented the food.

“I’m glad you like it.” Oikawa answered, leaning his chin on his hand. He reached out and took another piece from Suga’s bowl. “It does taste better this way.”

“I told you.” Suga beamed instead of looking smug.

Oikawa chuckled and kept eating his own food.

“But I think it needs a little more pep.”

“You want to add something to the food I made?” Oikawa asked.

“Yes.” Suga smiled impishly.

Oikawa studied him for a moment, his chin raised a little so he could look down at Suga. “Feel free to add the level of spiciness you’re comfortable with.”

Suga beamed again and got up to get a bottle of hot sauce.

Oikawa watched with horrified interest the liberal amount Suga poured into his food.

“How you haven’t destroyed your taste buds with that stuff already, I’ll never know.”

“I already may have.” Suga admitted.

“That would explain why you’re able to eat that.”

“Want to try it?” Suga offered something covered in the hot sauce in his chopsticks towards Oikawa.

He eyed it warily, leaning away from it a little. “No thank you.”

“It tastes better.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Oikawa chuckled.

Suga shrugged. “More for me then.” and ate the piece he had offered for him.

Oikawa leaned his chin on his hand as he watched Suga eat.

He looked better. A lot better. It would make sense. It had been about a month since the break up.

“What are you looking at?” Suga brought Oikawa back from his thoughts.

“You.”

“Yeah, no, I... I got that. But why?”

“I don’t know.” Oikawa shrugged and continued to eat.

“I’m fine.” Suga said after a spell and Oikawa looked up from his bowl to him. There was a small smile on Suga’s lips and Oikawa was sure that he referred to the break up too.

“I know.” Oikawa smiled a little too.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But that’s what friends do.” Oikawa stated.

Suga smiled at that. It was beautiful and it made Oikawa smile as well.

“So, tell me. What’s your mother like?” Oikawa asked to change the subject. His thought were getting dangerously close to something he didn’t want to think about.

“She’s weird.”

“You mean weirder than you?”

“No, I mean she’s weirder than _you.”_

“I’m not the one with a half a bottle of hot sauce in my bowl.” Oikawa pointed out.

“And that’s weird.”  

Oikawa laughed, loud and from deep inside of him. 

 

...

 

“Hey baby.” Suga’s mother said with a happy smile and hugged her son tightly in middle of a busy and crowded platform.

“Hey mom.” he said to her with less excitement but hugged her back just as tight as she did, letting his mother sway their upper bodies from side to side. “How was your train ride?”

“Boring.” she said and let go of her son. “I sat next to this old woman who was nothing but wrinkles and knitting needles. And I thought that she’d be one of those really awesome old ladies who are sarcastic about everything. But I was wrong. She was just bitter and sullen.” she huffed with indignation.

Suga chuckled and took his mother’s suitcase as they started to walk. Suga’s mother kept talking about her train ride and Suga listened with a small smile on his lips.

“There are too many people in Tokyo.” she remarked all of a sudden when they turned to a busier street, stopping in middle of the street. She had a look of irritation about her.  

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do about that.”

“I can ignore them.” she said and started to walk with single-minded determination in a straight line. Suga followed after her and marveled how this woman could walk in middle of a busy street and everyone made way for her. He decided not to disturb her and let her lead the way until she turned the wrong way.

“Um, mom.”

She stopped and turned to look at him.

“I live that way.” Suga pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

“I know that.” she flipped her hand like the matter was obvious. Of course she would know that. Except she didn’t. “I was just going this way to show you this new magnificent route that I’m sure you didn’t know about.”

“Really?” Suga asked as she came to him and took his arm.

“Yes.” she started to lead the way again, in the same wrong direction. “See, we go here for a bit.” she narrated. “And here we turn left.”

They walked across the crosswalk to the other side of the street.

“And here we turn left again.” they turned to walk the right way. “See, wasn’t that just superb?”

“It’s like my whole life has been changed by this eye opening experience.” Suga hid his sarcasm in his voice but he knew that his mother would recognize it.

“And now we’re going the right way again.” she gestured in front of them. The masses of people still went out of their way to let them pass.

“You’re right. Why did I ever doubt you and your navigation skills?”

“Alright, Koushi. You can drop the sarcasm. There’s no need to sass me.”

“You’re always sassing me.” he defended.

“Because that is my prerogative as your mother.”

“I’ll be sure to remember to mention that in my eulogy at your funeral.”

“Who says you’re invited?”

Suga sighed, but the smile on his lips lingered. He had missed their banter.

She kept holding onto Suga’s arm as they walked and he kept pulling her suitcase behind them.

“Besides, I’m going to outlive you all.”

“Well, that’s true.” Suga admitted and his mother patted his hand.

“You’re a good son, Koushi.”

Suga looked at her and saw a proud smile on her lips.

“You’re an average mother.”

“Koushi!” she exclaimed with annoyance. “We’ve been through this. I’m an above average, but below alright mother.”

Suga laughed, really laughed out loud. He really had missed her and their banter. It was never the same over the phone.

 

...

 

Suga had left to pick up his mother from the train station and Oikawa was excited and anxious about meeting her. He kept bouncing his leg on the floor as he lied on the couch, waiting for them to come home.

He knew next to nothing about her. When he had asked Suga elaborate on what she was like, he had described her to be indescribable. That sure helped a lot. But he was confident that he would get along with her. He could get along with anyone if he wanted to. For some reason it was important to him that Suga’s mother liked him.

When he heard the telltale sound of jingling keys he sat up. They were finally here.

Oikawa stood up and moved a little closer to the front door when it opened.

Suga’s mother came in first. She was shorter than Suga, but her features were very similar to her son’s. Even the hair was the same color. Oikawa was sure she hadn’t gone grey with her age when she looked barely forty years old. There was bright smile on her face and a happy glint in her eyes.

Oikawa was almost shocked to see an identical smile on Suga’s lips.

“Koushi,” she grabbed a hold on Suga’s arm as if to steady herself when her eyes landed on Oikawa. “Please tell me this handsome man is your new roommate.” Her other hand was on her chest.

“Yes.” Suga nodded and patted on the hand that was holding onto him and she let go. “Mom, this is Oikawa Tooru.” Suga gestured towards him. “Oikawa, this is Sugawara Akiko, my infamous mother.”

Oikawa and Akiko bowed to each other and she turned to look at her son.

“Oh, I’m infamous now. Last time you introduced me to someone, you called me “the radiant being that lights up the world”.”

A bemused frown appeared on Suga’s face as he tried to think back. “When have I ever you called you that?”

Akiko slapped Suga’s arm and turned back to Oikawa.

“It’s nice to meet you Oikawa-san. Do you mind if I call you Tooru?”

“Uh, no.” Oikawa was a little taken aback by the woman’s forwardness but he didn’t mind it.

“Good, because I want you to call me Akiko. I don’t want to be called by my husband’s stupid name.”

“Mom, do you realize that everyone calls me Suga?”

“Yes.” was Akiko’s simple and quick answer to that. She reached to Suga and placed her hands on Suga’s cheeks. “And that’s why I call you Koushi.”

“Because that’s a much better name.” Suga said sarcastically.

Akiko squished Suga’s cheeks and he crinkled his nose.

Oikawa bit back his laughter and Akiko let go of her son.

“Alright, I’m going to go wash up. And then, Tooru,” Akiko pointed towards him. “We’re going to bond over this weirdo.” she gestured to Suga, who rolled his eyes.

“Sounds good.” Oikawa smiled. He had met this woman only two minutes ago and he already liked her. He loved the banter between Suga and his mother.

“I’ll take your bag to my room.” Suga said and started to walk after his mother, who stopped and turned mid-step.

“Why?” she asked with honest desire to know the reasoning behind her son’s words.

“Because you’ll sleep there?” Suga said and asked at the same time, the difference in his eyes and voice.

“What if I don’t want to sleep in your room?” Akiko put her hands on her hips. “What if I want to... Does Asahi still live in the building?”

“Yes.” Suga sighed.

“What if I want to sleep in his apartment?”

“You’ll have to ask him. But until then, I’m going to take your bags to my room.” Suga started towards his room again, his mother following him to the hallway, while Oikawa stayed in the living room.

He could feel his anxiousness ebb away and he went to sit down on a couch.

Suga came back in a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry that she’s so forward but she calls everyone by their name like that.” he said and sat down on the same couch with Oikawa. It had become a habit for them to sit on the same couch, even if the other couch was vacant like it was now.

“I don’t mind.” Oikawa smiled as he shook his head. He really didn’t mind. “Actually, I kind of like her.”

“Good.” Suga looked pleased by Oikawa’s opinion. “But let me know if she starts to get on your nerves. She has no inhibitions what so ever.”

Oikawa chuckled at the exasperation in Suga’s voice.

“And she’s not just awkward, she’s “what the hell is wrong with you?” awkward. But everyone seems to forget that because she’s really wonderful too.”

 “Are you saying nice things about me, Koushi?” Akiko asked when she floated, yes floated, to the living room.

“No.”

Oikawa smiled. “He was.”

“Ooh...” Akiko cooed and reached towards Suga’s cheeks again but Suga patted her hands lightly away.

“Shall I make some tea?” she asked then, but Suga bounced up from the couch.

“No, I’ll do it. You sit down.” he instructed his mother.

Akiko sat down with a smile on the adjacent couch and Suga went to the kitchen.

“So, Tooru-kun.” she started and clasped her hands in her lap. “Koushi told me you’re studying sport science.”

“Yes.” Oikawa glanced at Suga, but the man had his back to the living room and Oikawa couldn’t see his expression.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.” Oikawa nodded.

“Are you single?”

“Don’t answer that.” Suga warned and Oikawa looked to him in surprise. “And well done, mom, easing into that one.”

“Hush, Koushi. Tooru-kun and I are talking here.” Akiko smiled sweetly at Oikawa. “So, are you single?”

“Sort of.” Oikawa answered carefully, confused by Suga’s warning.

“Sort of?”

“It’s not a serious relationship, just...” Oikawa shrugged and realized that he hasn’t seen Kageyama for a while. There had been the occasional message from the man, asking if they could see, but he had always had other plans. 

“Oh, you don’t need to be shy about anything with me. Trust me, I was young once too.” Akiko said with mischievous smile.

Oikawa chuckled a little. “I’m just not sure what to call it yet, that’s all.”

“Well, you’re young. You don’t need to.” Akiko sounded confident and Oikawa believed her. He already knew, of course, but it was nice that there was some sort of validation.

“What is it that you do, Akiko-san?”

“Oh,” Akiko perked a little. “I work at a library. It’s nothing glamorous but it pays the bills, I happen to like it and I’ve been there so long I can ask for days off every now and then so I can come and visit Koushi –“ she said and turned to look at Suga in the kitchen. “- since he never comes to visit me.” she ended her sentence in a severe tone.

“I’m busy.” Suga shrugged but there was a visible smile on his lips as he prepared the tea.

“Pfft, busy...” Akiko sneered. “You’re a photo artist. I’m sure you could take a day or two to come down to Miyagi.”

Suga came to the living room with three cups and a pot of tea on a tray. “Too busy.” he said and set the tray down on the coffee table and sat down on one of the pillows on the floor.

“Well, I guess I can forgive you since you’re so talented.”

Oikawa noticed Suga’s eyes trail down and fix on the cups he was filling. Oikawa didn’t know how he had missed it before, but was Suga shy about compliments? Did he get embarrassed hearing them even from his mother? Oikawa knew he himself would do more than just beam brightly if anyone gave him even the slightest compliment about something and then hold that over everyone’s head.

Suga moved the cups closer to his mother and Oikawa.

“Have you seen any of Koushi’s work, Tooru?” Akiko asked and sipped her tea. There was a soft smile on her lips and she looked pleased, like a proud mother would look like.

“Yes, I went to see his latest gallery. It was great.” Oikawa nodded and sipped his tea too. Suga’s eyes were still focused down on his cup. “You weren’t there, were you?”

“No, I couldn’t make it. I was taking care of my parents.” Akiko answered. “Which is something you’re going to be doing soon too, Koushi. Taking care of me in my old age.”

Suga lifted his head to look at his mother. “I thought you were going to outlive us all.”

“Well, of course I strive towards that. But, just in case there’s a 0,0001 percent chance that a terrible accident befalls me, you’re going to be there to take care of me.”

“I don’t know.” Suga pursed his lips to the side in thought. “I might be too busy.”

“Koushi!”

Suga chuckled at his mother’s exclaim. “I’m kidding. Of course I’ll take care of you.”

“Good.” Akiko nodded with finality before she changed the subject. “What time do you usually eat dinner?”

Suga and Oikawa exchanged a look between them.

“When we’re hungry.” Oikawa answered.

“I better get started on it then.” Akiko poured more tea for everyone.

“Why now?” Suga asked.

“Because I’m making more than enough to feed all my boys.”

“Who’d you invite, mom?” Suga asked like he was suffering from the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Daichi and Hajime.” Akiko said with nonchalance. “Besides, isn’t it still the routine in this building for everyone to come here? Of course I have to make sure that everyone’s full and satisfied when they leave.”

Suga let out a weary sigh and leaned his head to the side against Oikawa’s knee.

Oikawa instinctively reached his hand out a little and caressed Suga’s hair. His amused smile turned pleased at the contact, at the weight of Suga’s head resting against his knee, but he didn’t realize it until his eyes met Akiko’s. She was studying them with evaluative eyes.

Oikawa pulled his hand back. He wasn’t sure if Suga had caught his mother looking at them too, but he straightened as soon as Oikawa’s hand left.

“And you’re going to help with the cooking.” Akiko decided clapping her hands together and stood up. “Now, come on. I only have two hands.” she led the way to the kitchen.

Akiko led the boys like a head chef, telling them what to do and when.

“Did you go shopping for groceries today?” Oikawa asked when he noticed their stocked fridge. He had never seen it so full before.

Suga nodded. “I knew she’d want to make an insane amount of food. She always does.”

“Hm...” Oikawa turned to address Akiko.  “Akiko-san, how often do you visit here?”

“Not often enough.” Akiko answered, swiping her flyaway hair back into place.

“I don’t think I share that opinion.” Suga said but changed the subject quickly when he noticed his mother looking at him with loving exasperation, the kitchen towel in the hand she had propped on her waist.

“You wanted to see my latest gallery photos, didn’t you?” he said and started to walk towards the hallway and presumably to his room.

“It’s important to see your mother often, Koushi.” Akiko called after her son. “How else could you know how much I love and adore you? How proud I am to call you my son?”

She turned to look at Oikawa when Suga disappeared from sight, without response to his mother.

“Honestly, that boy has always been so shy.” she said with a warm smile on her lips, overruling the exasperation in her voice.

Oikawa believed her, agreed with her. But he thought it was quite adorable how flustered Suga could sometimes get.

“Are you close with your parents, Tooru?” she tilted her head to look at him. Another little quirk that was so similar to Suga’s.

Oikawa’s amused smile turned smaller. “Not really.” he answered looking away from her.

“Koushi told me you’re gay as well.” Akiko said evenly.

Oikawa looked back to her and nodded. He was and wasn’t surprised that Suga had told her.

“Is that the reason you’re not in contact with them?”

Oikawa let out a gust of breath. “Yeah.” he nodded again.

“They’re stupid.” she stated her opinion immediately and shook her head a little. Oikawa watched with surprise as she folded the kitchen towel in her hand away. “Your parents are stupid if they let some silly prejudice keep them from loving their son.”

Oikawa was thoroughly stunned. This woman loved so fiercely her own son – that was plain for everyone to see – and yet she had so much to give to others as well.

Warmth spread into Oikawa’s chest. He had forgotten what mother’s love felt like. He had witnessed it from the first second he had seen her with Suga, the palpable and visible force in every look and word: when she had bantered with him, when she had fixed his collar passing by or patted his cheeks. And now it felt like he was receiving some of that too.

“I think you managed to summarize them in two sentences.” he smiled ruefully.

“Well, I am very smart.” she said, trying to sound smug but it came out so sincerely, Oikawa couldn’t help but grin at the same time that he heard a snort.

Oikawa and Akiko turned their heads towards the sound and he saw Suga walking back to the kitchen.

“Hush, Koushi.” Akiko berated him immediately. “Your mother is a very smart woman and you know it.”

Oikawa noticed Suga roll his eyes.

“Sure, sure.” he flipped his hand in an offhand manner and set his laptop on the dining table. “You can look through the photos while we continue with the dinner.” Suga beckoned his mother to the table.

Akiko gave a gentle pat on Oikawa’s arm and went with a smile to sit down by the laptop.

Suga came to Oikawa with a small smile on his lips.

“Suga-chan, I find your mother wonderful.”

“I’m glad that you’re getting along well.”

“Do you think she would adopt me?”

“In a heartbeat. She already has practically adopted all my other friends.”

Oikawa smiled wider at that. He looked over to Akiko and saw a proud smile as she looked through Suga’s photos.

“Oikawa,” Suga called softly for his attention.

“Hm?”

“She really is a smart woman.” Suga admitted. “Only a fool wouldn’t be proud of you too.” He said it with so much meaning in his voice that Oikawa couldn’t do anything but believe him.

Oikawa wanted to sink in to that feeling, into the warmth that Suga radiated just like his mother did. But he was feeling too self-conscious about asking for a hug in front of Suga’s mother, and he contented to soak in the strong and kind smile before he turned back to the cooking, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

He felt Suga’s hand run down along his arm from his shoulder to his elbow in a comforting move. He came to understand where Suga had learned his strength and warmth from.

“Koushi! Where did you find this gorgeous man you have photographed?” Akiko interrupted from the dining table.  

Oikawa looked at Suga in question, his eyebrow raised.

“No, she doesn’t know about him.” Suga answered Oikawa’s silent question with a low and hushed voice.

“You’re twice as old as him.” he said to his mother.

“Still, I kind of want to meet him.” Akiko said and Oikawa got the idea that maybe she _did_ know about Terushima, even if Suga hadn’t told her anything.

“Look at that face, look at that expression.” Akiko kept marveling. “What was he looking at when you took this?”

Oikawa glanced discreetly at Suga and noticed him biting his lip. His fingers itched to slip through Suga’s soft hair to make him feel better.

Even though Suga was clearly better and better every day, a random mention of Terushima could make him anxious. Oikawa wondered when Suga would finally be over him.

“I don’t remember.” Suga lied.

“That’s a shame.” Akiko said, looking at his son with a hint of sadness in her eyes before she moved on to the next photo.

Oikawa was sure now that she knew who Terushima was, or had been to Suga.

 

...

 

The conversation in the kitchen had moved to happier and easier topics when Akiko had looked through Suga’s latest gallery and he had run from the room so he wouldn’t have to hear his mother’s praise. She shouted them after him anyway, laughing at her son’s antics.

Oikawa really had come to like Akiko, and he was currently laughing at her story about one of the regulars at the library she worked at, heavily leaning into Suga so he wouldn’t fall off his chair, when Kuroo came.

“I’m here to scream about my love!” Kuroo shouted when he walked in.

“Tetsurou!” Akiko greeted with joy.

“Sugawara-san.” Kuroo smiled back at her and hugged her.

“I thought you knew better by now.” Akiko said and let go off Kuroo, but put her hands on his cheeks.

“How are you Akiko-san?”

“That’s better.” Akiko patted his cheeks and let go. “So, you’re in love?”

“Yes.” Kuroo admitted. Oikawa was glad to notice a slight blush on the man’s cheeks.

“Is it with my boy?” she asked with uncharacteristic sternness in her voice and expression.

“No.”

“Good. You two would’ve made a terrible couple anyway.” Akiko patted Kuroo again on his cheeks and went back to the stove.

Kuroo turned to Suga who was watching the scene unfold. “Was that an insult?” Kuroo asked with a hushed voice.

“No. Believe it or not, that was a compliment to you. She thinks I wouldn’t be good enough for you.” Suga answered with a small smile.

“Well, she’s right about that.” Kuroo stated with his trademark grin.

“Are the other boys coming too?” Akiko asked as she pulled a large dish from the oven.

Oikawa wasn’t sure what it was, since Akiko had long since deemed Suga and Oikawa’s help unhelpful and made them sit down, but it smelled delicious.

“I can call them.” Kuroo suggested and pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Excellent.” Akiko said at the same time as Suga said “No.”

“I’m making so much food we could feed the whole block.” Akiko said like her son hadn’t just said anything.

“Akiko-san, you’re my favorite person.” Kuroo said wistfully.

Oikawa couldn’t have that. “Get in line.”

“What? Why?” Kuroo looked at him with surprise.

Suga sighed, leaning his chin on his hand. “Apparently Oikawa is in love with my mom.”

“She’s the best.” Oikawa stated. He kept wondering how someone as exuberant as Akiko could find satisfaction about working at a quiet library. Guess everything in life needed a balance and the library was that for her.

“She really is.” Kuroo agreed.

“You boys are so sweet.” Akiko smiled at them.

“Hear that Suga-chan? She likes us too.” Oikawa said and leaned his chin over Suga’s shoulder from behind as he watched her cook.

“Yes, I heard her.” Oikawa couldn’t see it, but he heard the smile in Suga’s voice.

“Tetsurou, could you get me the dish on the high shelf there?” Akiko asked, motioning towards a high cupboard.

“Of course.” Kuroo went to her, putting away his phone, messages sent to the building’s tenants inviting them to dinner. “This one?” he held a clear dish in his hand.

“Yes, thank you.”

Kuroo set the dish on the counter and turned to look at Oikawa and Suga. He narrowed his eyes a little, and Oikawa wondered why.

He didn’t get a chance to ask about it though, when Suga’s phone rang.

“Hey Daichi.” he answered. Oikawa was close enough to hear the whole conversation between them – the usual greetings and Daichi informing that they were almost at the building’s front door.

“I’ll be right down.” Suga said and hung up. “Kuroo? Could you go and open the door for Daichi and Iwaizumi?” Suga asked, putting his phone down on the island.

“Why don’t you go?”

“Because Oikawa is leaning to me and I don’t want to make him move.”

Oikawa tried to bite back his smile. He caught Akiko glancing at them as she was filling up the dish Kuroo had given.

“Fine, I’ll go.” Kuroo agreed.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help, Akiko-san?” Oikawa asked when Kuroo left.

“I’m sure.” she answered with a smile. “Besides, it sounds like I’m going to have more helping hands in a minute.”

So, Oikawa remained seated slightly behind Suga, and resting his chin on his shoulder – even with Bokuto and Akaashi coming in.

“Hello Akiko-san.” Akaashi said calmly, alerting her to their presence.

“Keiji! And Koutarou!” Akiko went to hug them with a wide smile on her lips. “How are you? Still in love?”

“Yes.” Bokuto beamed.

“Good.” she approved. “And how’s work?”

“It’s great! I was just promoted.”

“That’s wonderful.” Akiko was happy with Bokuto. “And Keiji? How’s school?”

“I’m graduating in the spring.” Akaashi stated in his calm and almost passive manner.

“Oh, that’s true. Excited?”

“A little bit.” Akaashi admitted, his expression unchanged, and Oikawa turned to Suga.

“Where does Bokuto work?”

“At the zoo.” Suga answered, matching Oikawa’s whisper.

“He works at the zoo?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“I thought he’s a vet.”

“He sort of is.” Suga nodded. “But he has this thing about birds, owls especially –“

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“And during summer he finally fulfilled his dream when he got moved to care for the birds.”

“That’s kind of cool.” Oikawa admitted. He watched Bokuto and Akaashi move to sit on a couch in the living room. Akiko didn't seem to need their help either.

Oikawa took a deep breath, wondering if any of his dreams would ever come to pass, and let it out slowly. He could be happy for Bokuto to realize his dream turning into reality.Really happy. But also a little jealous.

There was an errand thought in his head, wondering what was taking Kuroo, Daichi and Iwaizumi so long, right before he heard the front door open.

“We’re here. And I dragged in few strays with us.” Kuroo called, accompanied by the sounds of shoes taken off and the front door closing.

Oikawa turned his head, leaning his cheek on Suga’s shoulder, to see the newcomers. He lifted his head, almost with a jolt, when he saw who the “strays” were.

“Daichi and Hajime!” Akiko’s smile widened again and she rushed to them.

“How are you Akiko?” Daichi asked in her hug.

“I’m well, healthy, happy.” she listed and turned to hug Iwaizumi, who to Oikawa’s surprise hugged her back with a smile. “Over the moon to see my son, my boys.”

“You look amazing.” Daichi agreed.

“Oh, thank you darling.” she dazzled them with a smile. “Now, tell me. Who are these strays? I don’t want to keep calling you ‘strays’.” She addressed Hanamaki and Matsukawa and they introduced themselves.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sugawara Akiko, Koushi’s mother.”

They quickly glanced at Suga before they addressed Akiko again.

“The pleasure is all ours.” Hanamaki smiled.

“They moved into the building a couple of weeks ago.” Suga explained.

“Are you gay?”

“Mom.” Suga warned her, but she didn’t pay any mind to it. Neither did Hanamaki or Matsukawa.

“Dating.” Matsukawa made a motion in the air between him and his boyfriend, linking them together.

“Wonderful.” Akiko beamed. “The building’s full of gays. You’re really living the dream, Koushi baby.”

“Great.” Suga said with much less enthusiasm.

Akiko patted his cheek when she passed him on her way back to cooking. Daichi and Iwaizumi followed her and diligently started to help her with the cooking.

Oikawa saw Akiko’s turned back as an opportunity and turned to his friends.

“Why are you here?”

“We were invited.” Hanamaki answered with a smirk.

Oikawa knew what that smirk meant. He knew he had lifted his head up too late from Suga’s shoulder. He knew he’d be mercilessly teased about it later.

But he decided to ignore it for now and instead turned to Kuroo with a demand. “How do you have their numbers already?”

Kuroo grinned. “They were at my birthday party, remember?”

“You make friends disturbingly easy.” Oikawa eyed the man and his pleased grin.

“You’re just jealous that people find me more likeable than you.”

Oikawa snorted. “Please.” There was no way.

“He’s not wrong, Oikawa.” Daichi spoke up, joining their conversation.

Oikawa looked to him in surprise. “What?”

“I told you.” Kuroo kept grinning.

“I didn’t like you in the beginning either.” Daichi shrugged, but there was an apology in the set of his mouth.

Oikawa kind of already knew that Daichi hadn’t liked him, as he was Iwaizumi’s ex-boyfriend. He hadn’t liked Daichi either when they first met, but the man didn’t need to know that.

“You just have bad taste.” Oikawa flipped his hand.  

“And everyone doesn’t share your opinion Daichi.” Suga said.

“Excuse me?” Kuroo asked, looking a little shocked.

“I like you fine, Kuroo. But I think I warmed up to Oikawa quicker than I warmed up to you.”

“I have to share the sentiment with Koushi.” Akiko put in her two cents.

Oikawa couldn’t help but grin.

“I told you, a family of weirdos.” Kuroo turned towards Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were still standing a little to the side, observing the scene in the kitchen.

“Excuse me?” Akiko asked from Kuroo, looking affronted.

“Sorry.” Kuroo said immediately. “Please accept my apology. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Akiko’s features softened as she smiled again. “You can make it up to me and help with the cooking.”

Kuroo hurried to the kitchen and picked up quickly what she wanted him to do.

“Is there anything we can help with?” Hanamaki asked.

“Not this time, you’re new. Why don’t you sit down with Keiji and Koutarou and relax. You can help next time, when you know how things are done.”

“Next time?” Matsukawa asked.

“How often does she visit?” Hanamaki asked from no one in particular.

“Not enough.” answered everyone but Suga.

 

...

 

It didn’t take long for rest of their friends to arrive too, at least those who weren’t working.

Suga's mother seemed happy to see everyone, always meeting them with a smile and a hug, expect Kenma. Suga was glad that his mother remembered he wasn’t too fond of physical contact or touches and gave him space when he came with Hinata.

Hinata however was struggling even more than usual to contain his energy in his tiny body and not bounce up and down and all over the apartment when he saw Akiko. He kept chattering excitedly about everything and she listened with patience to everything, laughing when he did.

Suga liked to observe his friends with his mother. They were able to make her so happy with so little, and Suga wasn’t sure if they knew it. If they knew how proud she was of all of them.

But he had never seen his mother as overly excited, than when Asahi came in, when everyone had already settled down to eat.

“Asahi dear!” she went to him and actually squeezed him in a tight hug.

“She didn’t hug anyone else like that.” Oikawa remarked little petulantly.

Suga kept his focus on his mother and Asahi as he answered him. “She likes Asahi the most.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the long hair.” Suga guessed and bit back his groan when he heard Akiko’s conversation with Asahi. He wasn’t sure why he expected anything else to be the first question out of her mouth.

“Are you still single?”

“Yes.” Asahi answered like he wasn’t sure of his answer.

“Still gay?”

Asahi blushed before he answered, “Yes.”

Suga sighed internally. His mother had no tack and was way too eager to know these two things about everyone. And he didn’t even know why she wanted to know so badly. It wasn’t really a problem per say, not usually, but it managed to make Asahi look very uncomfortable in his own skin and Suga felt bad for him.

“Good.” she patted Asahi’s cheeks lightly. Yes, that was her thing.

“Um, how are you Akiko-san?” Asahi wanted to know, only the second one who thought to do so. Maybe that was why she liked him the best.

“You know me, always happy to see my boys.” she beamed, looking up with unadulterated interest.

“Dating anyone?” Asahi asked. It managed to get a few laughs from others, especially from those who didn’t know how free and open she was about the subject.

Suga decided to tune out her answer, knowing what it would be.  

“I don’t want to be rude or inconsiderate,” Hanamaki leaned closer to Suga. “But why is your mother so obsessed with everyone’s sexuality?”

Suga was happy that he had asked. It created a distraction for him. He could still hear his mother talk about her latest date she had went on as a favor for a friend. 29 years ago.

“I don’t know, and when you ask her, she goes on this long tirade that is impossible to follow.” Suga answered Hanamaki’s question. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she used to think that we were all having sex with each other.” He added later as an afterthought.

“What? Really?”

“Well, of course I did.” Akiko took part in their silent conversation that apparently wasn’t silent enough. “With so many good looking young men living in such close proximity and at the peak of their sex drive? Of course I thought it a possibility that you were having sex with each other, especially since you were all gay in one way or another.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you serious?” Matsukawa looked amused.

“That’s what I’d do anyway.” Akiko shrugged. “At least if I had lived in a building like this when I was your age and my neighbors were as sweet and handsome like you all are. And I don’t think I would’ve had Koushi if I had.”

“Thanks, mom.” Suga was a little disturbed to learn this about his mother.

“And I believe you are exactly the reason that I didn’t have neighbors I could have sex with when I was younger. I was meant to have you.” she said with the softest smile and proudest look in her eyes. “My Koushi baby.” she cooed the last words and put her hands on Suga’s cheeks and squished them together.

“Mom...” Suga whined a little and everyone laughed for various reasons and in varying levels.

When she let go of him in favor of continuing another conversation with someone else, Suga caught Oikawa looking at him with a smile.

He knew that Oikawa was from time to time worried about him. It was evident in everything the man did or didn’t do, said or didn’t say, around him. It was sweet.

“So, Takahiro, Issei.” Akiko focused on the newest members in the group. “Tell me about yourselves.”

Hanamaki spoke first, telling Akiko about his work as an architect, but Suga wasn’t listening to him. He was still on the train of thought that had started with Oikawa smiling at him, interrupted by Oikawa talking to him again.

“Your mother is wonderful.”

Suga smiled. “You keep saying that.”

“Because she is.” Oikawa pressed and Suga laughed quietly under his breath.

Matsukawa had started to talk about his work in renewable energy, but Suga couldn’t focus on him either. This time it was Oikawa’s phone that stole his attention with a beep of an incoming message.

Suga glanced at the screen Oikawa surreptitiously shielded with his hands and angle of the phone.

“Is it from the guy you’re seeing?”

“Yeah...” Oikawa admitted slowly, like he had fallen deep into his thoughts.

“You can go if you want to.”

“He’s not asking about tonight.”

“Oh.”

Oikawa put his phone away after he sent a short message, typed with few taps on the screen.

“Who are you talking about?” Asahi asked, joining them at the table after he had gathered food from the “buffet” they had set up on the kitchen counters. The food Akiko had made, with help from everyone in short turns, couldn’t have fit on the dining table with so many people sitting around it, filling the space with plates and glasses and whatever was somehow essential to eating.

“No one.” Oikawa answered. “How was work?”

“Alright.” Asahi answered, nodding his head as he chewed his food.

“I still can’t believe that you work at a kindergarten.” Oikawa thought out loud with a slight shake of his head.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a lot of responsibility to look after kids and you get nervous when you hear police sirens, even though you’ve never done anything wrong in your life.” Suga explained.

“I’m used to kids.” Asahi said with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “Besides, they’re more afraid of me than I am of them.”

“Really?” Oikawa asked.

“That’s what Suga used to tell me when I first started at the kindergarten.” Asahi reminded him.

That was right. He had said that to Asahi whenever he looked like a nervous wreck when he had thought about facing the next day of work.

“I didn’t know it worked.”

Asahi smiled a little, but with determination. Suga was sure the biggest reason for why Asahi was so good at his job nowadays was also for most part thanks to Nishinoya. He was Asahi’s private cheerleading squad, threatening and encouraging, picking up Asahi’s confidence.

“If everyone’s mostly done with their food, I think I’ll start with the clean-up.” Akiko spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention.

Suga glanced at the time. How was it already ten p.m.?

“No, no.” Daichi got up immediately, along with Kuroo and Bokuto. “We’ll do it.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yes, we’ll do it.” Kuroo joined Daichi in picking up empty plates and carrying them to the sink.

“Thank you.” Akiko smiled her pleased smile. “Would anyone like tea? I could make some.”

“I’ll make it.” Hinata bounced up.

Akiko laughed a little at everyone’s willingness to help. Really, the only ones not to get up and clean were Asahi, Suga and Kenma. Asahi because he was still eating, Suga because he wanted to keep him company and Kenma because he was Kenma and currently focused on the game he was playing. Hanamaki and Matsukawa sat by the table too, since Akiko still didn’t let them help.

It was a tight fit in the kitchen with everyone carrying things to the fridge and sink. It didn’t take long for Kuroo and Oikawa to start playing with the water and bubbles as they washed the dishes and Bokuto and Akaashi helped with the drying. Daichi was boxing up leftovers, while Iwaizumi arranged them neatly in the refrigerator.

“Maybe you should visit more often.” Suga said to his mother. “No one ever helps like this or does their dishes after they come over to eat.”

“I’ll try.” Akiko promised. “By the way, what’s in this big box?” She pointed to the disputed birthday gift and got up to examine it.

It wasn’t a surprise she had noticed it, but it was a surprise that she waited this long to ask about it. Suga had noticed her eyeing it during the evening ever since she came into the apartment.  

“It’s Kenma’s birthday present.” Kuroo answered with a smirk from the sink. His shirt was covered in soapsuds here and there. Oikawa wasn’t much better off. His hair was flecked by white and he was sporting a very dashing white and bubbly beard. This wasn’t the first time that the thought that Oikawa was a little childish crossed Suga’s mind. It was rather endearing though.

“It’s Kuroo’s birthday present.” Kenma corrected, unfazed, his fingers still moving and tapping on his console.

Suga hung his head back. No one wanted it, so no one had moved it and therefore still remained to stay in its spot in their living room. On some days Suga was itching to open it and satisfy his curiosity, on others he wanted to run it through an industrial chipper.

“I’m confused.” Akiko said, circling the box. “Whose is it?”

“Kenma’s.”

“Kuro’s.”

“What’s the deal? Why don’t either of you want it?”

Kuroo and Kenma looked at each other.

“I don’t trust it.” Kenma admitted, pausing his game to eye the gift warily.

“Why would I hurt you on your birthday?” Kuroo asked, offended with his hand over his chest, but with a happy and mischievous glint in his eye.

“I don’t want it.”

“I don’t want it either.”

“Then why do you think I would want it?” Kenma asked seriously.

“I guess this is the end of our friendship.” Kuroo threw his hands up in mock-frustration. Everyone and their aunt knew that he was kidding.

“Guess so.” Kenma agreed, nonplussed by this possibility.

“Well, if neither of you want it, can I open it?” Akiko looked hopeful.

“No!” Suga said immediately. “No one’s opening it here.”

Akiko placed her hands on her hips and fixed everyone with a stern glare. “What is going on, boys?”

“We think we know what’s in the box, but we don’t want to be right so no one wants to know what’s in it.” Bokuto explained, eyeing the box as well.

“What do you think is in it?” Kuroo seemed very interested to know.

“The fucking hat, Kuroo.” Iwaizumi answered, one hundred percent done with everyone.

Kuroo grinned like the Cheshire cat. “You’d have to open it to know for sure.”

“No one’s opening it.” Suga said vehemently again.

“How about if I just take a peek?” Akiko suggested with a smile.

“Can we take a peek too?” Hanamaki joined in, getting up. “We’ve been dying to know what’s in it ever since we got a very disappointing tour from Oikawa.”

“There was nothing disappointing about my tour.” Oikawa sounded very much offended.

“It left us feeling very unsatisfied.” Matsukawa stated.

“What did you expect from it? Unicorns and marshmallows?”

“Yes.” Hanamaki answered immediately like he really meant it. “And also ice cream.”

Oikawa flipped water and bubbles towards them, but Suga noticed the smile on his lips.

“So? Can I?” Akiko asked, her fingers playing on the seam of the wrapping paper.

“No.” Suga said in a stern voice. “Let it go, mom. If it’s ever opened, I’ll call you immediately to tell what’s in it.”

"Fine." she conceded. "How's the tea coming, Shouyou?"

"It's about ready." Hinata answered. Akaashi was taking down cups for everyone.

The rest of the evening was spent in relative calmness, sipping tea and telling more stories and amusing anecdotes, before one by one, everyone said their goodbyes and goodnights and left Suga alone in the apartment with his mother and Oikawa. He knew that no one would be coming over tomorrow, when they knew that Akiko wouldn't be here but at her party.

"Alright, I'm beat." she said and got up with cat-like stretch. "Goodnight honey."

"Night, mom."

"Goodnight, Tooru." she smiled and left them alone in the living room.

"Are you tired too?" Suga asked after he heard his room door close.

"Not sure." Oikawa answered. "I'm still a little jittery from the evening."

"I know what you mean." Suga leaned his head on Oikawa's shoulder.

"Suga-chan," Oikawa said softly.

"Hm?"

"I really like your mother."

"Good." Suga said his thought out loud. It really was good, but his tired brain couldn't process why.

 

...

 

The next morning Suga woke up early on the couch. He didn’t remember falling asleep, and he was lying under a blanket that he didn’t remember pulling over. Had Oikawa done it?

It was still dark outside, the light of the street lamps illuminating the living room. Suga sighed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. When could he finally sleep in, instead of rising before the sun? Since there was no real reason to wake up early anymore, he really missed waking up when the day was already bright and the noise and bustle of the city more noticeable.

He had been sitting by the dining table and drinking tea for over an hour, watching the first rays of sun lit up the kitchen before his mother came from his room, dressed in her robe that resembled a cape when she walked.

“Good morning.”  

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” Suga asked.

“I did.” she smiled as she sat in an adjacent chair.

Suga nodded and turned his head to look out the window again. He didn’t see the change happen in his mother, but he heard it in her voice when she spoke again. 

“Are you alright Koushi?”

“Yes.” Suga was confused by the question and worry in his mother. He looked at her again and studied her face. “Why are you asking?”

“I didn’t get the chance to mention this last night, but the last time I spoke with Daichi on the phone, he told me you were in love with a boy.”

“Oh.” Suga looked away. It was an admission but there was nothing he could do about that now. So his mother knew. How long had she known?

“And that the boy broke your heart.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Suga said quietly.

“Okay, baby.” Akiko caressed Suga’s hair. “Okay.” she stood up and kissed Suga’s forehead. “Let’s make some breakfast.”

Suga nodded, but kept his eyes on the window and the sight beyond it. He heard his mother’s steps as she went to the fridge and started to pull out ingredients. He kept listening to what his mother was doing and lifted his feet on the chair he was sitting on to hug his knees.

He was grateful that she let the subject go. It was too early in the morning to think about Terushima. It was too early in the morning, period.

“I just have one question.” Akiko said softly.

“About this?” Suga glanced over his shoulder towards her and saw her set up a cutting board on the counter.

“Yes.”

Suga took a deep breath, stealing himself. “Okay.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with someone? That you’d been dating him for a long time.” There was no anger in her voice and Suga hadn’t expected there to be.

“I was afraid.”

“Of me? Of my opinion?”

Suga looked at his mother. “No.”

“What were you afraid of then?”

“Can you let this go?” Suga pleaded softly. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You know you can talk about anything with me.”

“I know.” Suga smiled a little. “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay.” his mother accepted. “So, did I tell you yesterday about the neighbors’ new hobby?”

“No.”

“Well, you won’t believe this when I tell you, but –“ his mother jumped on the new subject, telling the ins and outs of her neighbors’ Frisbee golfing and how she was sure that she would be growing Frisbee trees in her garden in a matter of years, thanks to the numerous discs that had flown over the fence to her yard.

Suga smiled at the story and got up to help his mother with the breakfast. He had missed her dearly. No matter how much he joked that he didn’t, insisting that he was busy, he really did miss her.

 

...

 

Oikawa woke up with happiness warming him from the inside. Last night had been one of the warmest and loveliest Oikawa had ever had in his life.

Akiko had been doting on everyone, happy to see them. And everyone had doted on her. Suga was truly lucky, and Oikawa knew that he wasn’t the only one to think that. Everyone had said as much last night. He would’ve said it to Suga as well, if he hadn’t fallen asleep against his shoulder before that.

He had slowly lowered Suga to lie on the couch and covered him with a blanket before he went to sleep as well. And his worries for Suga had resurfaced when he remembered that the man was probably tired because he kept waking up early.

It didn’t show up on the surface, on Suga’s face. That was why Oikawa kept forgetting it and why it really did seem that he was fine.

Like he did that morning.

Oikawa saw him sitting on the couch he had fallen asleep on, playing with his camera.

But Akiko was nowhere in sight.

“Where’s your mother?” Oikawa asked, walking into the kitchen to make himself breakfast.

Suga looked over the back of the couch. “She left for her party.”

Oikawa glanced at the clock. “Already? It’s barely ten a.m.”

“She said something about meeting her old friends and going with them to the party.”

“Oh.”

Oikawa was a little disappointed. He wanted to spend more time with her. She was through and through one of the most delightful people he had ever met.

“What are your plans for today then?” He asked from Suga.

“I’m actually going out too. I’m meeting Kiyoko for lunch and then Takeda-san.” Suga said, getting up.

“Alright.”

“So, the apartment will be empty for the whole day.”

Oikawa smiled with tight lips. “Thank you Suga-chan. I catch your drift.” He knew that Suga had alluded to the possibility that he could bring Kageyama.

Kageyama had asked about it last night, but Oikawa had declined the offer. It really had been weeks since he had seen Kageyama and he was sure that the man was wondering about it. But he didn’t feel any particular need or want to see him.

“Okay.” Suga smiled and slung his camera’s strap across his chest. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” Oikawa waved. He contemplated what he could do that day. And he was sure it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that after standard two cups of coffee and breakfast, he settled in his room to study.

 

...

 

“Hey,” Suga said when he found Oikawa in his room late in the afternoon.

Oikawa looked up to him. “Oh, hey.”

“Did you study the whole day?” Suga asked, little worried about the slumped position he was sitting in.  

“Look at that.” Oikawa said when he glanced at the clock. “I guess I did.”

“Want to take a break?”

“What do you suggest instead?”

“A movie.”

“Sure, why not.” Oikawa agreed easily and threw his book to the side.

“There’s no hurry. You can finish your studying.”

“I can pick it up again later.” Oikawa flipped his hand, waving the matter away as he scooted off his bed. “How was your day?”

“Lunch with Kiyoko was fun. Meeting with Takeda not so much.” Suga described vaguely as they made their way to the living room, Oikawa following him.  

“Why not?”

“There’s this stupid thing I’ll have to do.” Suga answered, sitting down on a couch.

“What thing?”

“What movie do you want to watch?” Suga dodged the question, stopping Oikawa from sitting down with his foot on his ass and pushing him towards the shelves.

“Why are you deflecting?” Oikawa asked, studying their selection of DVDs.

“I can pick the movie too, if you don’t want to. I was thinking horror.” Suga said enthusiastically.

Oikawa looked at Suga over his shoulder, evaluating him for a moment. “Fine, don’t answer. I’ll find out at some point anyway.”

“It’s been a while since the last time I saw Ring.” Suga continued on his own conversation like Oikawa hadn’t said anything.

“No, Suga-chan. No Ring. I’m still traumatized by that creepy kid’s eyes.”

Suga chuckled. “Okay, you pick then.”

“Grudge?” Oikawa held the DVD case in his hand. “Since you wanted to watch horror.”

“Grudge is good too.” Suga smiled and Oikawa went to put the movie on.

He surprised Suga a little by sitting on the same couch with him. It really had become a habit for them to occupy the same couch, even when it was just the two of them.

“What thing do you have to do?” Oikawa tried to pry again.

Suga chuckled again. “Nice try. Very subtle.”

“I wasn’t trying to be subtle.” Oikawa smirked and pulled Suga’s legs into his lap. “I was asking outright.”

“Can you press the play already?” Suga asked, motioning towards a remote control.

“Tell me about the thing Takeda wants you to do first.”

“I can do it too.” Suga reached towards the remote, but Oikawa grabbed his arm, his other hand taking the remote.

“Is it something sexual?”

“What? No, of course not.” Suga denied vehemently. There was nothing sexual in him attending a stupid gallery that Takeda was making him go to.

“Why are you so cagey about it then?”

“Can we just watch the movie?” Suga laughed a little with his exasperation. He’d have to go to the gallery, but he didn’t have to talk about it. It was still kind of sweet for Oikawa to care about it enough to keep insisting.

“Of course.” Oikawa smiled his most charming smile. “Just answer my question first.”

“You know what?” Suga said and lunged towards the remote, held away from him by Oikawa.

The sudden dive for the remote worked and Suga managed to grab it. But Oikawa made a sudden move simultaneously that made them both topple on to the floor where they kept fighting for it.

“Oikawa!” Suga laughed, holding onto the disputed piece with both hands, Oikawa’s weight pressing him against the cold floor.

“Don’t blame me. This is your fault.” Oikawa was laughing just as hard, holding onto the remote with just one hand, while the other sneaked to tickle Suga so he’d let go of it.

“Stop.” Suga pleaded, the emotion in contrast with his laughing. He was trying to move his trashing body away from under Oikawa.

“Answer my question and I will.”

“It’s just a stupid thing, barely worth the mention.” Suga fought his words out, the sensation of Oikawa’s fingers moving lightly and teasingly against his sides distracting him.

“Then why did you?” Suga heard the smile in Oikawa’s voice and felt the laughter as Oikawa’s body trembled against his.

He must have come to the conclusion that his tickling would be much more efficient and productive if he used his both hands.

“No!” Suga shied away from the sensation now on both sides of him, still laughing. It was getting hard to breath with so much laughing. He was sure his abs would hurt the next day.

Oikawa stopped the tickling when Suga’s laughing became truly breathless, his fingers seizing their movement, his hands stilling against his sides. After a short moment of letting Suga calm down, he raised himself on his hands, looking down at Suga with a smile.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Suga kept hiccupping with little bursts of laughter, and pressed play on the remote. “I won.” he flashed a smug smile.

“No you didn’t.” Oikawa disagreed immediately, but with a smile.

“I managed to put the movie on and you still don’t know what you want to know.”

Oikawa sighed with a pout, but sat up, letting Suga up too.

“I let you win.” Oikawa said confidently.

It wasn’t the most sophisticated answer, Suga knew, but he still snorted. “Yeah, right. Sure, tell yourself whatever you want.”

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa smiled, but there was an edge of worry in his voice now as he leaned against the couch. “Is it a bad thing Takeda wants you to do?”

“No.” Suga shook his head. It really wasn’t. “It’s not a bad thing, I promise. You don’t need to worry about it. I’m just not looking forward to it.”

Oikawa studied him for a moment. “Okay. I believe you.”

“Good, thank you.” Suga smiled and settled to lean his back against the couch too. “Oh, by the way, before I forget. I want to apologize in advance for my mother.”

“For what?”

“She’s probably going to be tipsy when she comes back later tonight. And she’s never quiet when she’s tipsy.”

“It’s fine.” Oikawa said and nudged Suga closer.

“Are you sure?”

“You can always make it up to me.” Oikawa smiled impishly and softly poked Suga’s side again with one finger. Suga shrunk away from it with a sudden laugh at the feel.

“I was already planning on it since you were so cool with her staying here.” he smiled when he was out of Oikawa’s reach.

“Yeah? What have you planned?” Oikawa looked mildly intrigued. Suga studied his expression before he moved back closer to him, certain that he was done with the tickling.

“Nothing yet.” Suga admitted. “But I’ll come up with something.” He promised, settling close enough for their arms and legs to lightly touch, and focusing on the movie.

“Better be something good. Because your mother isn’t cool at all.”

Suga recognized his tone.  

“Maybe I’ll let you see me drunk.” he teased, following in Oikawa’s sarcastic footsteps.

“Oh, yes!” Oikawa got excited. “Can we do that now?”

“No.” Suga laughed. “We’re watching a movie.”

“Fine.” Oikawa agreed and slumped a little lower to rest his head on the couch as well. “As long as I see you with alcohol someday.” he added and put his hand on Suga’s thigh, eyes focused on the TV.

“One day.” Suga promised and focused on the movie too. He was smiling at the smallest tingles emanating from the spot Oikawa’s hand was touching.

They had missed the movie’s beginning with their talking, but neither really minded.

 

...

 

“Tooru,” Akiko said softly and he lifted his eyes from the book he was trying to memorize.

“Yes?” Oikawa looked up.

Suga had been right yesterday when he warned him of his mother coming in late and little tipsy. Oikawa couldn’t bring himself to mind about it though. It had been amusing to hear her sing her way through the apartment to Suga’s room. And he and Suga had heard and seen the whole thing from the living room, quietly chuckling about it.

They hadn’t just watched Grudge during the evening, but two other horror movies as well, only taking a break to eat. Oikawa was the type that had to watch at least one more horror movie after the first to overdose on the jumpscares and horrible scenes so he could fall asleep. Suga had been different, falling asleep sometime during the third movie.

Oikawa remembered how Suga’s head had been resting in his lap and how his fingers had slipped through Suga’s hair on their own volition.

“Oh, am I interrupting something important?” Akiko asked, bringing Oikawa back to his room.

“No.” Oikawa closed the book, reading Akiko’s worried expression. “Did you need something?”

“I was just wondering if I could ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” Oikawa prompted for her to continue.

She stepped inside his room fully and closed the door. Oikawa followed her movements with raised eyebrows, guessing that this was something important and not for Suga’s ears.

“Koushi was in a relationship recently,” Akiko started, fixing him with inquisitive eyes and Oikawa knew he had been right. She knew about Terushima. “And I was wondering if you could tell me something about it. About the boy Koushi was dating.”

Oikawa turned to fully face Akiko, to read the minute changes in her expression and body language. “How did you know about it?” he wanted to know.

“Daichi told me.”

“Oh.”

That made sense.

“What was he like?” Akiko asked in a hushed voice.

“He was alright.” Oikawa answered truthfully, even though it stung to say that about Terushima, after what he had done to Suga. “I didn’t really know him that well.”

“It was the man in that one picture in Koushi’s gallery, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Did they love each other?”

Oikawa sighed.

“Yes.” he admitted. And everything else poured out of him after that, spoken in a quiet voice, like secrets were traded between two people in the dead of the night.

How the two had looked at each other, how he had witnessed them have fun and laugh, how often Suga stayed with Terushima.

And how Suga had been heartbroken after the break up.

Telling all this to her bothered him a little. Not just because it was mostly about Terushima, but because it was about Suga _with_ Terushima.

He omitted the info of how he had looked after Suga, comforted him and been with him so he didn’t have to be alone. He didn’t think that Akiko needed to know how much he had grown to care about Suga. Besides, there was a chance that she knew already and mentioning it would only bring more attention to it.  

“Thank you for telling me.” Akiko said sincerely when he closed his mouth with finality. “Koushi doesn’t really tell me about his relationships so I ask from Daichi, but it seemed that he didn’t know that much about the last one.”

“It’s fine.” Oikawa assured her. “I understand where you’re coming from, wanting to know.”

“Thank you, dear.” Akiko smiled. “I’ll let you get back to your studying.” she made a move to leave.

“Thank you.” Oikawa opened his book again. He hadn’t managed to continue his studying last night. Suga had urged him to, but that would have meant not being with Suga and that had been less desirable option.  

“Oh, before I go, I want to give you some advice.” Akiko turned at the door, her hand on the handle. “You know that tingly feeling you get when you like someone?”

“Yes?”

“It’s common sense leaving your body. Be careful with your crushes.” she smiled and slipped out of the room, leaving Oikawa a little baffled.

Why would she say that? Had she noticed then too? Like Hanamaki and Matsukawa, that he kind of got the slightest tingles from Suga?

Oikawa shook his head a little to rid it of the implications. There was nothing special or weird of him and Suga growing close with each other. There was nothing noteworthy of them falling asleep on the living room couch when neither of them was in need of comfort.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much exposition in this chapter, I hope it doesn't read stuffy and lacking.  
> This really blew up in my hands while I was writing it. I don't think I managed to put in half of the stuff I was going to...  
> For example, where is Tanaka and Noya?! I promise to fix this oversight in the next chapter.  
> *shakes head, uncomprehending how I could forget about them*  
> Anyway, yeah, I don't know what I was going to say here either, so let's just move on. 
> 
> to be continued:  
> Christmas, snow, new year, even more OiSuga (or as I like to call it SugOi)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a big mess, feelings.

 

“Alright, I’m all packed and ready to go.” Akiko said, carrying her bags with her to the living room where Oikawa and Suga were waiting. They were leaning to the back of a couch close to each other, both looking at something on Oikawa’s phone. They looked up when they heard her.

“I wish you wouldn’t have to go yet.” Oikawa said wistfully, pocketing his phone.

“I know, me too.” Akiko said. “But I lose my cool factor when I stay longer.”

“You don’t have a cool factor, mom.”

“Not knowing that I have a cool factor just proves that you don’t have one, Koushi.”

Suga regarded his mother silently, his expression passive.

“You’re weird, mom.”

“Pssh.” She flipped her hand.

“Takes one to know one, Suga-chan.” Oikawa whispered from behind him, but loud enough for Akiko to hear it.

Suga turned his gaze to him.

“What?” The taller man asked.

“I’m just trying to come up with something that would cause you to say “I’m rubber and you’re glue” and prove how childish you sometime are.”

“Very funny.” Oikawa stated sarcastically.

Suga beamed and Akiko shook her head a little at their exchange.

Before they could get further into it, she decided to remind them that she needed to go soon.

“You boys will walk me to the train station, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Oikawa agreed eagerly.

“I think I’ll say my goodbyes here.” Suga said.

“Why?” she wanted to know. Suga had always walked her back to the station and this deviation from their routine was odd.  

“Since Oikawa’s in love with you, I want to give you two some time alone.”

“Oh, Koushi.” Akiko laughed and put her coat on. Of course it would look like Oikawa was in love with her, all of Suga’s friends doted on her. But she was sure there was someone else that Oikawa’s feelings were stronger for.

“Come on, Suga-chan.” Oikawa started to push him towards their front door. “Or your mom’s going to miss the train.”

“Fine.” Suga agreed.

Akiko didn’t miss the small smile on her son’s lips, or the playful smirk on Oikawa’s. She really wished she didn’t have to go.

The rest of her boys had already said their goodbyes that morning, when she had made breakfast for everyone. It was always a bittersweet moment to see them wave goodbye, but she consoled herself with the thought that she’d see them again soon. It was a wonderful feeling to be on the receiving end of so much love and respect.

“I’m really going to miss you two.” she said, waiting for the boys to put their jackets and shoes on too. “Even you Tooru and we only just met.”

“You’re not the first to say that.” Oikawa smiled. “Everyone finds me lovable and therefore easy to long for.”

“Who are these “everyone”?” Suga asked.

“You’d miss me too if I was gone.” Oikawa stated patiently, still smiling widely.

“How can I know that if you’re never gone?”

“Why would I want to make you experience such a horrible feeling?”

“Alright, boys. Squabble while we walk.” she said and pushed both of them out the front door. “I don’t want to miss the train.”

“Let me take that, mom.” Suga turned towards her when Oikawa closed the door after them, and picked up her suitcase.

“Thank you, darling.” she smiled and started to descend the stairs, Suga and Oikawa coming after her. She could still hear them quibbling, but it was done in such a lighthearted manner and soft tones that it made her smile gentle and happy.

The walk to the station didn’t take long. Actually, it was over way too soon.

She walked in middle of the sidewalk again, parting a clear path through the masses of people, while Suga and Oikawa walked behind her. She couldn’t hear them over the noise of the city, and kept glancing over her shoulder now and then. Both to make sure she was going the right away, that they were still following her, and to check how close to each other they were walking.

She had noticed how Oikawa had looked at Suga when she had arrived on Friday, when he had caressed Suga’s hair.

After that, she had to look for it to notice it, but whenever she did, it was unmistakable – Oikawa was falling in love with her son.

The two of them were in different places in their lives – Suga was still getting over his broken heart and Oikawa was sort of dating someone.

She wondered if they would make a good fit, or would ever come to find out, if they would pursue their friendship further.

But that was for them to find out and experience on their own, not for her to decide for them.

When they arrived to the right platform, she turned to them and hugged her son first. She held him tight, wanting to give as much comfort and warmth as she could to make it last until the next time they would see each other again. Suga hugged her back just as tightly. It was a clear sign that he missed her too, even if he sometimes joked that they saw each other enough as it was.

“Promise to call me, a lot.” she told him and let go, the prospect of missing her train at the back of her mind.

“I will.” Suga smiled. “Now, do you want me to leave you two alone? I can give you a moment.”

“Stop it, Koushi.” Akiko berated him lightly. “You do realize that Tooru is much more in love with you than he is with me.”

“Sure.” Suga said the word smoothly, but his voice was derisive enough to suggest that he didn’t believe her.

Didn’t he see? Had he seriously not noticed how attentive and considerate Oikawa was with him?

Akiko looked at Oikawa as well, and he looked surprised, even though he was clearly trying to hide it. He hadn’t realized it either? Or was he just surprised that she had noticed it?

Akiko sighed internally and turned fully to hug Oikawa next.  

“You can call me too.” She said, hugging him as tightly as she had hugged Suga. “About anything.”

“I’ll definitely call you when we find out what’s inside the gift.”

“Please do. And I want to hear about the developments in Tetsurou’s relationship too. I want to know what’s going on there.” She let go and looked up to him. “Koushi never gossips with me.” She added, lacing her voice with disappointment.

Oikawa glanced at Suga and then back to her.

“I think that just means you’ve raised him well.”

“Oh, aren’t you sweet.” She said, noting the pleased smile on her son’s face. “You’re a good man, Tooru.” She smiled proudly and patted his cheek softly. “Take care of my son.”

“If he’ll let me.” Oikawa promised with a little smile, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice that Akiko didn’t like.

If Suga and Oikawa were ever going to delve further into whatever it was that was most certainly starting to blossom between them, they needed a little nudge to the right direction.

“He already is.” Akiko leaned in conspiratorially, smiling suggestively.

Nudge, nudge.

“Alright boys, be good.” She waved and started towards the train that was waiting for passengers. She didn’t have a lot of time before it left and if she stayed any longer, she knew that leaving her son would be even harder.

 

...

 

Suga and Oikawa watched her board the train and waited on the platform until the train left, waving to her as it pulled off the station.

“Let’s go home.” Suga turned to say to Oikawa when the train was out of sight.

Oikawa nodded and they started to walk side by side.

“Suga-chan, I’m heartbroken.” Oikawa admitted, sounding truly forlorn.

“Are you already missing my mom?”

“Yes.”

Suga laughed lightly. But he could identify with the sadness. He was missing his mom already too.

“She’ll visit again.” He promised and put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder in comforting and grounding move. “And in the meantime you can always call her.”

“But it’s not the same.”

“I know.” Suga said and let go off Oikawa to navigate through the masses of people on the street.

“Do you miss her?” Oikawa looked honestly intrigued.

“Yes.” Suga admitted with a sad smile.

They didn’t say much more on the rest of the way to home, both of them sunk into their own thoughts. It wasn’t until they closed the front door that Suga genuinely engaged Oikawa in conversation again.

“Are you hungry?” Suga asked as he took his jacket off.

“A little.”

“I’ll make us something.”

“Isn’t there about hundred different kinds of leftovers in the fridge?” Oikawa asked, his brow furrowing a little.

“I’m pretty sure that the fridge was emptied of those while we were gone.”

Suga watched passively as Oikawa went to the fridge and opened it, knowing what he’d see. 

“Seriously? Don’t they care that we might be hungry too?” Oikawa looked betrayed and disappointed when he closed the fridge door, wondering how their neighbors could empty their fridge of Akiko’s cooking.

“It’s fine, Oikawa.” Suga placated. “I can cook.”

“I know that you can cook. That’s not the point.” Oikawa said and sat down with an indignant huff. “It’s their glaring disregard towards others that bothers me.”

“You’re just missing my mom and taking it out on them.”

“No, I’m missing her and hating your friends because they’re horrible.”

Suga smiled a little at the petulant tone of Oikawa’s voice.

“Go study or something.” He suggested, giving Oikawa something else to think about. “I’ll let you know when food’s ready. It won’t take long.”

“Fine.” Oikawa conceded and stalked towards his room. “But I’m still mad at your friends.” He called from the hallway.

“It’s interesting that they’re _my_ friends when you don’t like them and _your_ friends when you find them wonderful.”

“That’s how they world works, Suga-chan.” Oikawa called back.

Suga could tell he was already in his room from the way his voice was distant and there was an echo from the hallway.

“No, that’s how you _think_ the world works.” Suga called back.

“And I’m right.”

Suga let out a little laugh of amusement. He remembered being a little miffed about the loss of his mother’s cooking the first time it had happened.

“Just study!” Suga urged.

“How can I when you keep talking to me?” Oikawa asked, walking back to the kitchen with a book in his hand. “It’s distracting.”

“Then why are you in the kitchen?”

“Because I miss your mother and you are the next best thing.”

Suga’s smile turned softer and he turned away from Oikawa, gathering ingredients. It was nice that Oikawa thought that.

He heard Oikawa pull out a chair and sit down as he started with the cooking.

It was quiet in the apartment, and empty. It always felt emptier to Suga when his mother had just left. Somehow, her personality could fill up an entire apartment.

But he had to admit that it was nice too, to be alone with Oikawa. In a way, Suga had missed it too.   

“I really like your mother, Suga-chan.” Oikawa spoke up after a while.

Suga glanced at him and saw him leafing through a school book by the kitchen table.

“She’s great.” He added and looked up from the book.

“I’m glad you liked her.” Suga said and focused back on the cooking. “She seemed taken with you too.”

“Well, of course she did.” Oikawa stated haughtily, and Suga could see it in his mind, how Oikawa raised his chin higher when he said it like it was obvious.

Suga rolled his eyes and added rice to the cooker.

“No, but I really mean it.” Oikawa said, his voice sincere now, and Suga turned to look at him. “She’s amazing. You’re lucky.”

There was an emotion in Oikawa’s eyes that softened Suga. He had told Suga that his parents had been practically nonexistent ever since he had come out to them. Of course he would find Suga’s mother’s unconditional love towards _everyone_ nothing short from miraculous.

“It’s nice that you think that, and I know that I’m lucky.” Suga moved over to the kitchen table as well, now that there wasn’t anything he had to do right away.

“But mostly I just remember being a teenager and hanging with Daichi, or with any friend, when she would burst into my room, banging pots and pans and chanting “remember to use a condom”.”

Oikawa sputtered with laughter.

“What? She did?”

“Yes.” Suga leaned on the back of a chair with his hands.

“You’re not serious.” Oikawa kept snickering, his shoulders shaking with his laughter.

“I really am.” Suga was serious but smiled at the memory, at Oikawa laughing. “There really were pots and pans. She really was banging them together loud enough for neighbors to hear. And she really was shouting about condoms. And lube.”

Oikawa kept laughing.

“It was embarrassing.” Suga added, trying to sound grave, but he knew that there was a gentle smile on his lips.

He noticed Oikawa shake his head a little and heave a sigh when his laughter subsided.

“She’s absolutely brilliant.” Oikawa stated again and Suga had to agree with him, but not out loud.

She really was amazing.

Suga went back to his cooking, still smiling softly, happy that his roommate seemed happy.

 

...

 

Oikawa looked up from his phone when their front door opened and saw Kuroo come in, looking a little glum. Oikawa had no idea the man had the capability to look like that. He watched him walk over to the kitchen and to Suga.

“I already miss your mother, Suga.” Kuroo announced and draped himself on Suga’s back.

Oikawa watched them, passively studying Suga’s reaction to the physical contact. He didn’t seem to mind it, but smiled when he pointed towards the couch Oikawa was sitting on.

“Join the club.” He said and Kuroo twisted his upper body to look where Suga was gesturing to.

With a sigh he let go off Suga and stalked over to the couch and sat down next to Oikawa. 

“Is this the official meeting place for those who are desperately missing the radiant being that is Suga’s mother?”

“That’s where she got it!” Suga exclaimed, recognizing the words.

Oikawa looked at him over the back of the couch again before he turned back to Kuroo. “Yes.” He said and offered a box towards him. “Cookie?”

Kuroo eyed it for a moment before a small grin brightened his face. “Thank you.” He said and picked two cookies, eating the other immediately, the other two seconds later.

“Did she make these?”

“No.” Oikawa was sorry. “They’re store bought.”

“Shame. Her cookies are everything.”

“Good to know.” Oikawa made a mental note of it and ate a cookie too.

“Can you two try and brighten up a bit?” Suga asked when he came to stand by the couch they were occupying.

Oikawa and Kuroo both turned to look at him and simultaneously answered, “No.”

Suga let out a soft exasperated sigh and patted Oikawa on the shoulder. “She’ll visit again.”

“But she’s gone now and we miss her now.” Oikawa said as Kuroo took the box of cookies from him.

“And we’re comforting ourselves with these second rate cookies.”

“Do you want some sad music on the background to be the soundtrack for your lamenting?” Suga teased.

“I feel like you’re trying to tell us something with your joke, but I’m not sure what.” Oikawa studied Suga with narrowed eyes.

“I’m telling you that you’re being drama queens.” Suga explained, still smiling like he was teasing.

“We’re not drama queens.” Oikawa countered indignantly and Kuroo nodded along, agreeing with him.

“She’s my mom and I’m not nearly as miserable as you two.”

“Then there’s something wrong with you.” Kuroo stated with his mouth full of cookies.

“That’s it.” Suga said and leaned past Oikawa towards Kuroo and snatched the box of cookies from him. ”No more cookies for you.”

Kuroo let out a squawk at the loss of the cookies and grappled after them. Suga was quicker though and danced away from the couch.

“He took my cookies.” Kuroo looked at Oikawa with comically wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe that Suga just did that.

Frankly, Oikawa wasn’t even a little surprised. He had been expecting Suga to do just that when Kuroo made his earlier statement. He looked over the back of the couch again and saw a victorious smile on Suga’s lips.

“What did you expect would happen when you offended him?” Oikawa asked and got up because they were his cookies too and he wasn’t done eating them yet. And Suga’s almost uncharacteristic smirk was just begging to be wiped off.

“I’m sorry, Suga.” Kuroo sounded too blasé to appear even a little bit sorry. “Please give us back the cookies.”

“No.” Suga shook his head. “You need to get over your pity party and comfort yourselves with the thought and _knowledge_ that she’ll come again.” He spoke while Oikawa devised a battle plan to get his cookies back.

“What happened to you?” Kuroo asked and Oikawa saw Suga’s eyes flit between him and Kuroo. “You used to be so sympathetic towards others.”

“Oikawa became my roommate.” Suga answered simply. “And I don’t know what you’re planning right now,” he meant his words to Oikawa. “But you’re not getting these cookies back either.”

“You know that I know that you’re ticklish, right?” Oikawa looked down at Suga, assessing him.

“Oh, yeah, Suga is really ticklish.” Kuroo said and got up too and started to walk towards the kitchen.

“Seriously? That’s your plan? To tickle me until I relinquish the cookies?” Suga looked between them. He didn’t look even a little bit scared though.

Oikawa and Kuroo shared a look and nod between them before they sprinted towards Suga. He took of quicker than a lightning, running them around the kitchen island and down the hallway.

Oikawa caught Suga just inside his bedroom, wrapping his arms around his middle and lifting him in the air, while Kuroo grabbed the box of cookies and tried to wrench it out of Suga’s grasp.

Suga was laughing, trying to kick them off. His laughter was infectious, making Oikawa and Kuroo laugh too. It became hard to focus on holding Suga in one place in the air with his trashing when he was laughing, and Oikawa fell to the ground, taking both Suga and Kuroo with him.

All three ended up sprawled on the floor, laughing loud and free, the sound of it filling Suga’s bedroom.

It took a short while for them to calm down and collect themselves enough to sit up. Once they did, Oikawa noticed Suga’s wide smile.

“What are you grinning about?” Oikawa asked.

“You’re both smiling.”

Oikawa looked at Kuroo and noticed a smile there, and recognized it mirrored on his own face too. Had this been Suga’s plan all along? To get them to think about something else, focus their efforts towards a goal so they wouldn’t think about missing his mother? He had to admit that he had forgotten Akiko and cookies for a while there.

 “And you turned your cookies into crumbs.” Suga pointed out, rattling the cardboard box’s contents.

“Noooo...” Kuroo wailed and fell back to lie on the floor. Oikawa felt like going the same way. “What will we do now?” Kuroo moaned.

Oikawa regarded him for a second. “He really is a drama queen.”

“Takes one to know one, Oikawa.” Suga reminded him.

“You used the term first.” He pointed out.

“I live with you.” Suga stated like the matter was obvious and stood up. “Of course I know what a drama queen is like.” He added over his shoulder and left him and Kuroo alone on his bedroom floor.

“Suga’s really mean sometimes.” Kuroo spoke up.

Oikawa both agreed and disagreed with him, still looking after Suga. There might’ve been a spike in his heartbeat when he had picked Suga up against his chest, but that could mean anything and could definitely be analyzed later.

“Come on, there’s more cookies in the kitchen.” Oikawa urged Kuroo to get up and led the way back to the kitchen, where Suga was already holding another box of cookies for him.

“Enjoy,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Suga-chan.” Oikawa took the offered cookies and went back to the couch, aka the-we-miss-Akiko -club room, Kuroo trailing after him and falling face first into the couch cushions.

 

...

 

Suga spent the remainder of Sunday with his friends, all of them coming to tell him how much they already missed his mother. As if he didn’t get enough of that just from Oikawa and Kuroo. Even Daichi and Iwaizumi came by in the evening.

“You’re here too?” Suga asked when he saw them come in. He suspected that they had used Daichi's copy of the key to get past the building's front door.

"What do you mean 'too'?" Iwaizumi asked.

"Everyone's here." Suga stated.

"I don't see Bokuto or Akaashi." Daichi said, looking at the group gathered in the living room.

"They're celebrating Akaashi's birthday."

"Oh, right." Daichi looked like he just remembered that, almost an a-ha moment.

"And Makki and Mattsun?" Iwaizumi asked.

This time it was Oikawa who answered. "Anniversary."

"Oh, yeah, that's true." Iwaizumi nodded.

"So, why are you here?" Suga asked, reminding the two newcomers to explain themselves. It was a little odd for them to come uninvited. 

“Hajime wondered if any of your mom’s cooking was still in your fridge. I bet that everything would be stolen and moved to other’s fridges, he bet that there would be some left.”

Suga looked at Iwaizumi. “If you want my mother’s cooking, you have to raid someone else’s fridge.”

“There’s none left in yours?”

“Sorry. We were robbed and Oikawa was most mournful and aggravated by it.”

“Why did you use words that sounded a little pretentious?” Oikawa looked to them from the couch.

“Because you were a little bit pretentious.” Suga answered.

“No I wasn’t. I was most definitely truly and honestly grieved.”

“Of course you were.” Suga said, but didn’t actually agree with him.

“Can we raid your fridge, Kuroo?” Daichi asked.

The man still had his head buried into a couch cushion, his wild hair sticking up even more irregularly than usual. He waved his hand in a way that could be interpreted in many ways. Daichi seemed to take it to mean that Kuroo gave them permission, because he left while Iwaizumi stayed in the kitchen.

“How’s it going with Oikawa?” Iwaizumi leaned closer to Suga to whisper.

“It’s alright.” Suga answered honestly. “Why?”

“Just asking.” Iwaizumi shrugged. “Let me know if it gets unbearable to live with him.”

“I think we’re okay for now.” Suga smiled a little, glancing at Oikawa. He noticed from his side-eye how Iwaizumi kept looking at him until Daichi came back with food and they joined the pity party in the living room. Suga absently wondered how come Daichi still had a key to Kuroo's place too as the observed his friends.

As miserable as the atmosphere was in the living room – everyone little gloomy in the absence of his mother, no matter how much Suga tried to alleviate it – no one was as sad as Tanaka.

“I can’t believe I missed your mom.” Tanaka said, looking like a puppy that had been abandoned in the rain as he sat on a pillow on the living room floor.  

“She’ll visit again, don’t worry.”

“But it’ll take months.” Tanaka practically wailed. “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand that she’s coming? That way I could’ve arranged my shifts.”

“How about I tell you the next time I know she’s going to visit.”

“But it’ll take months.” Tanaka repeated and buried his head into his arms that he had laid on the coffee table.

“Don’t worry, Ryu. I got some leftovers she made in our fridge.” Nishinoya tried to comfort his best friend. He hadn’t shown much grief over Akiko, but he was probably too cool to outwardly express such an emotion. Or maybe it just hadn’t hit him yet like it had hit the others.

“It’s not the same.” Tanaka’s voice was muffled by his arms. “Her food can’t hug me and smile at me like she does.”

“Okay, fine.” Suga said and took out his phone, dialing his mother’s number. He missed his mother too, but Tanaka seemed to need her more. He studied him as he waited for her to pick up.

“Hi, baby.” She answered the video call with a smile. Suga was relieved that she had picked up, since it was getting kind of late and she could have already been in bed.

“Hey mom. I’m sorry to call you so late, but Tanaka’s depressed that he didn’t get to see you. Could you say a few comforting words to him?”

“Of course.” She agreed instantly with a gentle smile. “Where is he?”

“Here.” Suga passed his phone to Tanaka who had gotten up when he heard Akiko’s voice.

“Ryu darling!” she exclaimed when she saw him.

“Hi Akiko-san.” Tanaka smiled just a little.

“Koushi! Hug him.” She ordered in a stern voice and Suga wrapped his arms around Tanaka, resting his head on his shoulder.

“That’s from me, darling.” Suga heard his mother say.

“Thank you.” Tanaka responded, wrapping the arm that wasn’t holding the phone around Suga.

In a matter of seconds, others piled on their hug as well, gathering around and wrapping their arms around each other so it was a big and warm ball of hugging. Suga wasn’t sure who was pressed against his back and how many arms actually reached to touch him in the hug, but it was what they all seemed to need.

“Feel better?” Akiko’s voice could be heard laughing.

“Yes.” Tanaka answered.

“Good. I promise we’ll see each other the next time I come to visit Koushi.”

“But it’ll be months.”

“Then call me when you miss me.” She offered an easy solution.

“But I don’t want to bother you.”

“Pssh. You could never bother me. None of you could.” She said in a kind voice and Suga could hear the smile in her voice.

His mother was something special.

“Thank you Akiko-san.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Alright, I was on my way to bed when you called. I have to wake up early tomorrow for work.”

“Goodnight Akiko-san.”

“Goodnight, darling. And goodbye everyone.” She said to everyone else as well.

“Bye Akiko-san!” everyone called back as they untangled from the hug.

Tanaka handed Suga back his phone when no one was holding onto them anymore, everyone going back to sit where they had been.

Kuroo and Oikawa shared one of the couches, while Asahi was sitting in the armchair. He was still the only one who hadn’t spoken a word all evening, but the longing was evident on his face. Nishinoya sat on the floor close to his legs, leaning his back to the armchair. Daichi and Iwaizumi had fit themselves on the other couch, while Kenma and Hinata shared another pillow on the floor.

“Thank you Suga.” Tanaka smiled a little.

“You really can call her anytime. She won’t mind. That’s why she gave you her number.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

Suga smiled and rubbed Tanaka’s head affectionately.

“Suga-chan, can you give me a hug too?” Oikawa asked, looking at him hopefully.

“Why?”

“Because I really miss your mother and you really are the next best thing.”

Suga heaved a small sigh, but sat on the couch’s armrest, trapping Oikawa between his legs as he hugged him from behind, wrapping his arms around him tight enough for his hands to reach Oikawa’s shoulders, leaning his cheek on Oikawa’s head.

“You know, Oikawa. It sounded a little like you just used Akiko-san being gone as an excuse to have Suga hug you.”

“Shut up, Nishinoya.” Oikawa said, while Nishinoya snickered. “You’re just jealous that Suga isn’t hugging you too.”

“I’m letting go in about five seconds.” Suga warned Oikawa. Not just because he didn’t want a squabble to start in his apartment and wanted to give them time to calm down from it, but also because he wasn’t quite ready to let go yet.

One, two, three... four..... five...... six....... seven

Suga slid his arms away slowly after he counted.

“Better?” He asked and peered to Oikawa’s face.

“No.” Oikawa answered gravely. “But thank you.” He flashed a smile.

“You’re welcome.” Suga smiled back. He could’ve moved further away from Oikawa then, but remained seated behind him on the armrest. It didn’t take long for Oikawa to lean his back against him. There might’ve been the smallest contented smile on Suga’s lips for the rest of the evening and it seemed that Oikawa was over missing his mother too.

 

...

 

New Year was getting closer and closer and Suga had only two things to do before that. Attending the gallery Takeda was making him go to. And seeing Terushima. The latter had been long time coming and something that Suga dreaded and continuously decided not to think about.

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa called down the hallway and a few seconds later there was a knock on Suga’s open door. “Asahi’s asking for you.”

“Oh?” Suga said, focused on going through his closet. He knew it was somewhere here...

“What are you doing?” Oikawa asked, coming closer.

“I’m looking for my suit.”

“Suit?”

“Mm-hmm.” Suga said and crouched down, just in case it was hidden in one of the boxes on the floor.

“What do you need a suit for?”

“There’s this gallery thing that I have to go to. Takeda-san got my photo in there and I have to go represent myself.” Suga said with slight distaste on his tongue. He was going to hate it, he just knew it.

“You don’t sound too eager about it.” Oikawa remarked and Suga looked up to him. He was leaning his shoulder to the closet doorframe, studying him.

“I’m not.” Suga admitted and gave up on his hunt. “So, what did you need me for?”

Oikawa straightened from the doorframe. _“Asahi_ needs you.”

“For what?”

“He didn’t say. Just asked for you.” Oikawa answered and led the way from Suga’s room to their living room.

“Hey Asahi.” Suga greeted when he saw him awkwardly standing by the front door.  

“Hey. I just came by to ask if you could water my plants while I’m gone.”

“Of course.” Suga promised.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asked, leaning his hands to the kitchen island.

“Home to visit family.” Asahi answered. “Here’s the key.” He held it out for Suga.

“Thanks. Have fun with your family.” He wished wholeheartedly.

“I’ll try.” Asahi flashed a small smile. “Have a good New Year.”

“Bye.” Suga waved.

“He’s going to spend two weeks with his family?” Oikawa asked when Asahi left.

“He actually likes his family.” Suga answered and put the key in his pocket, not to lose it. “And he always spends the New Year and his birthday with them.”

“I guess that’s nice.” Oikawa mused. “What about you? What are your plans for the New Year?”

“I don’t have anything planned. Other than being home.” Suga walked to stand on the other side of the island, across from Oikawa, mimicking the way he was leaning into it.  

“You’re not visiting your mother?”

“She was just here.” Suga pointed out. “Plus, she has made plans with some friends. How about you? Any plans?”

“I need to work on my dissertation.”

“You’re not going to visit anyone? Not even your sister or brother?”

“No.” Oikawa answered. “They have their own plans with their families.”

“Lucky for me then.” Suga dared to smile a little to take the sting out of his sarcastic tone. He wasn’t sure how Oikawa interpreted it, but he smiled and Suga didn’t worry about it further.

“So, tell me about this gallery.” Oikawa prompted, reaching over the island and taking one of Suga’s hoodie’s strings between his fingers. 

“It’s some fancy pants thing.” Suga waved his hand to indicate his indifference about it. He really wasn’t excited about it, or looking forward to it, nor did he really care about the whole affair.

“Is this the thing you wouldn’t tell me about when your mother was visiting?” Oikawa pulled a little on the string.

“Yes.” Suga answered, thinking back to Oikawa’s insistence and how his abs had been hurting because of all the laughing caused by the tickling.

“Why are you so casual about it? It sounds important.”

“It’s going to be pretentious and boring and I’m only going because Takeda-san is making me and I hear there’s going to be alcohol.”

“You’re going to get drunk?” Oikawa asked with a newfound interest in his voice.

“I probably have to or I won’t make it through it.”

“Do you want me to come go with you? Keep you company and make fun of the pretentiousness?” Oikawa offered.

It was nice that he offered, but Suga had made up his mind to go alone.

“No, it’s fine.” He said while Oikawa twirled the string with his fingers.  “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright, well, if you change your mind.”

“I’ll come and find you.” Suga smiled to ease the apparent disappointment in Oikawa’s voice. “I have to go back to look for my suit.”

“Maybe I can help you?” Oikawa offered, letting go of the string and following Suga to his room.

“Two gay guys in the same closet? I think a comedian’s head is exploding somewhere trying to come up with a joke about that.” Suga remarked, eliciting a chuckle out of Oikawa.

“Come on, we’ll find it quicker with two sets of eyes.” Oikawa reasoned and went to the closet before Suga.

“If you insist.” Suga accepted his help and leaned on the closet’s door frame. There really wasn’t much space inside for both of them.

“You have disturbingly few clothes.” Oikawa said, moving hangers back and forth.

“I’m not much of a shopper.” Suga shrugged.

“And yet you’ve managed to get them into a mess like this.” Oikawa gestured around at the, yes Suga could admit it, a mess. The shelves were filled with shirts and pants that were in piles and bundles, and in piles of bundles. Some clothes had fallen from the hangars onto the closet floor. Suffice to say that it really was a mess. Suga wasn’t much of an organizer either.

“Do you mind if I straighten things here while I look for the suit?” Oikawa asked and started to fold a shirt.

Suga smiled at the action. “Go ahead.” He had nothing against it.

“What color is your suit?”

“Black.” Suga answered and stepped into the small space too, to pick up the fallen clothes. Even though Oikawa had offered to organize, Suga felt a little bad to not help at all. They were working side by side, close enough for Suga to feel Oikawa’s bodyheat. “It’s a pretty standard suit, but I’m sure I hid it right after my graduation.”

“We’ll find it.” Oikawa sounded certain, but he stopped what he was doing and turned to look at Suga. “You really haven’t worn it since your graduation that was what? Over three years ago?”

“There was never any occasion or reason to.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Really?” Suga fixed Oikawa with a little tilt of his head. “And how many times have you worn a suit in the last three years?”

Oikawa didn’t answer right away. “Fine, I get your point.”

Suga smiled, feeling victorious.

“I just assumed that you would be wearing it more often, you know, to galleries and such.” Oikawa said as he continued with the folding.

“I’m not really a suit wearing kind of person.”

“What kind of person are you then?” Oikawa asked with a grin as he grouched down and started to look through the drawers near the floor.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” Suga suggested.

“Are you fishing for something?” Oikawa asked with a cock of his eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Suga’s smile turned teasing.

“Hmm...” Oikawa regarded him for a few moments before he returned to his task. “You’re a lot of things, Suga-chan.”

“That wasn’t the question, though.”

Oikawa looked up to him. “You’re an angel. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes, thank you.” Suga beamed and turned to straighten clothes on another row of shelves.

Oikawa chuckled a little, but it was cut with an exclamation as he abruptly stood up.

“You have the Totoro hat?!”

Suga turned to him as suddenly, took it from Oikawa’s hand and threw it back in the drawer and kicked it shut. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“But you were freaking out about it being in the gift sitting in our living room.” Oikawa said with widened eyes.

“To throw everyone off. I have big plans for it when Kuroo turns 30.”

Oikawa’s expression turned to impressed. “You’ve planned your pranks five years in advance?”

“Of course.”

“You’re the devil, Suga-chan.” Oikawa stated and Suga smiled, pleased by the comment.

“So, did you open the gift and take it?”

“No. I have had it since Akaashi’s birthday last year. I knew he wouldn’t care if it mysteriously disappeared. He’d be more likely to thank whatever fashion gods he believes in that it was gone.”

“Hmm, you’re probably right.” Oikawa nodded before he perked. “Can I try it on?” There was a little hopeful smile on Oikawa’s lips as he looked at Suga.

“Why?” he asked warily.

“The hat is ghastly, probably the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. But I think I’m handsome enough to make it look better.”

“Really? You think you’ll look good in this hat?” Suga pulled the hat from the drawer and held it in front of Oikawa, not looking at it on purpose. “You really think you’ll look good with this Totoro bouncing on your head?”

“Yes.” Oikawa said with confidence.

“Okay.” Suga smiled and stepped even closer to Oikawa, almost close enough for their chests to touch, to put it on his head.

“Well, what do you know? Even you can’t make it tolerable.” Suga thought out loud, looking up to it.

“It’s really that bad?”

“Go take a look.” Suga gestured towards the mirror in his room and Oikawa went, Totoro swaying a little on top of his head in time with his steps. The image would have been amusing if the Totoro wasn’t so scary. 

“Oh, you’re right. That’s not good at all.” Oikawa said with distaste, studying his reflection. “Why on earth would Kuroo buy it in the first place?”

“I bet he tried to be funny.”

Oikawa pulled the hat off. “Go hide it. I never want to see it again.”

“Alright.” Suga took the hat and went to put it back in the drawer. “Oh, here’s my suit.” He recognized it in the drawer the hat had been in. Naturally.

“Suga-chan, do you not know that you should store your suits on hangers?” Oikawa clicked his tongue when he came back to the closet.

“I do know, but I never wanted to see this thing again.” Suga said, holding the suit jacket in the air, studying the various wrinkles caused by being stuffed into the drawer.

“It’s actually a good looking suit. Why don’t you like it?”

“It’s a suit.” Suga stated, trying to smooth some of the creases.

“I’d have it dry cleaned if I were you.”

“I was planning on it anyway.” Suga said and picked up the pants as well. “Thanks for your help finding this.”

“You’re welcome.” Oikawa smiled with his chin raised a little.

Suga regarded him for a moment.

“Would you put the hat on again, just for a second?” He asked carefully.

“Why?”

“Because I want to take a photo of it.”

“Why?”

“I want proof that no one can make it look any less threatening and piss-your-pants-scary.”

Oikawa didn’t say anything for a long while, and Suga waited, letting him mull the request over.

“Fine.” Oikawa sighed, but there was a hint of a small smile in his eyes when he grouched down and picked the hat up. Suga dropped the suit on his bed, and fetched his camera while Oikawa styled the hat in front of the mirror.

“You know, if you just wanted a picture of me, you could’ve asked. I take about a hundred selfies in a day already.”

“I know, but I had a feeling that you would never again be caught dead with that hat on, and I wanted to exploit this opportunity.  And this way I can also prove that I got you to actually wear it.” Suga explained, framing Oikawa through his camera.

“You really are the devil, Suga-chan.” Oikawa smiled and threw a ridiculous pose for the photo.

Suga laughed at it and lowered his camera. “Thank you.” He beamed, both for the photo and for the compliment.

“You’re welcome.” Oikawa smiled back and took the hat off, threw it into the closet with speed that his skills in serving volleyball had provided him with, and closed the door after it.

“I guess we’re done with organizing the closet then.” Suga thought out loud, looking at the closed closet door.

“As long as that thing is in there, I’m not stepping my foot in.” Oikawa pointed towards the closet. “The image of that horrendous grin it had on is now burned on my retinas and it’s your fault. You have to make it up to me now.” Oikawa proclaimed confidently.

Suga chuckled a little.

“Fine.” he agreed and set his camera down on his table. He could deal with the suit later too, now that he had found it. “What do you have in mind?”  

“Hmm...” Oikawa crossed his arms in front of his chest and Suga watched how his eyes looked around his room as he thought. “Watch X-files with me.” he said, fixing his eyes to Suga.

“Okay.” Suga shrugged easily. He could do that. “I’ve never seen an episode, so be nice.”

“You’ve never –“ Oikawa stopped in middle of his sentence, shocked by this reveal. “How have you never watched X-files?”

“I’m cool?” Suga suggested with a teasing smile and started to walk out of his room.

“That’s debatable.” Oikawa said, following him. “Actually, no, that’s not debatable at all.”

“Because I’m right?”

“Because you’re _wrong.”_ Oikawa argued.

Suga laughed and settled to sit down on a couch, his back against the armrest and legs thrown on the length of it, letting Oikawa deal with the DVDs.

“You’re only cool once you’ve watched the whole series, every episode.” Oikawa explained. “Including the movies.”

“How many episodes do you think we can go through tonight?” Suga inquired. This show seemed to be very important to Oikawa and he wanted to make an effort watching it. He wasn’t sure _why_ he felt like he wanted to make the effort, but the urge was there at the back of his mind, pushing him to do it.

“Every episode is about 40 minutes long.”

Suga checked the clock.

“So, about 10 episodes?” He asked.

“Without interruptions.” Oikawa answered and came to sit on the same couch as Suga, surprising him by scooting close enough between his legs to lean his back and head down against Suga’s chest.

“What -?” Suga was about to ask when Oikawa interrupted him.

“This way I’m not distracted by observing your reactions.”

“What if I’m distracted by you and can’t focus on the show?”

“Not my problem.” Oikawa answered easily as the first episode was starting. “Now, shush.”

Suga pressed his lips against each other so he wouldn’t laugh at Oikawa’s serious tone. And so he could focus on the show instead of grinning like an idiot because it was admittedly quite nice to have Oikawa’s body and warmth against him like this.

Suga wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point, totally immersed into the show and the curious cases that Mulder and Scully investigated, his fingers found their way into Oikawa’s hair and started to twirl the long strands.

It was a quiet night in their apartment, Yaku being the only one to come in. Once he noticed what they were watching, he opted out and left, only having spent three minutes in their apartment.

Suga didn’t mind though, secretly glad that they were left alone.

 

...

 

Oikawa opened his eyes barely enough to check the time.

It was already midday and he had slept maybe six hours. If Iwaizumi knew how late he had studied again, he would kill Oikawa and then bring him back to life so he could lecture him.

Oikawa turned to his other side, drawing the covers tighter around him. He could sleep a bit more. Iwaizumi didn’t need to know and he trusted that Suga wouldn’t tell on him.

 

...

 

“Oikawa?”

He woke up again, this time to Suga’s knock on his room door. It felt like only a second had passed since he had last closed his eyes but somehow that felt impossible.  

“Yes?” Oikawa asked, his voice hoarse from sleep. He didn’t open his eyes yet though, and heard it when his door opened.  

“I’m sorry to wake you.” Suga apologized.  

“That’s okay. What do you need?” Oikawa’s speech was muddled and mumbled, too tired to actually speak. He really had to stop with the late night studying. It didn’t only mess up his sleep pattern, but made Iwaizumi mad and Suga worried. It had been Suga who had woken up early, again, and made him go to bed when he had realized Oikawa had stayed up through the night.

“Can I borrow a tie?”

“Sure. They’re in my closet.”

“Is it okay that I go in there?” Suga asked and Oikawa could hear his footsteps walk around his bed to the closet door. “There’s nothing in there you want to hide from me?”

“What would I hide in my closet?”

“I don’t know, a blow-up sex doll, maybe?”

Oikawa snorted.

“I’m gay. What would I need one for?”

“I’ve met your friends, Oikawa. Makki and Mattsun.” Suga reminded him. “They seem like the type to give a gag gift like that.” Suga talked and his voice was somewhat muffled by the closet.

_He is right_ , Oikawa thought as he heard the tell-tale rustle in the closet that told him Suga had found his ties.

“Why do you need a tie?” Oikawa thought to ask. He knew Suga had a couple of his own. He had seen them less than a week ago in his closet.

“I have that gallery to attend to.”

“I remember. But what happened to your own ties?”

“They’ve mysteriously disappeared.”

“What do you mean “mysteriously disappeared”? How?”

“Well, if I knew that, it wouldn’t be mysterious, now would it?” Suga said with his voice clearer now as he closed the closet door.

“Can I borrow this blue one?” Suga asked and Oikawa struggled to open one eye to see which one Suga was holding for him to see.

“Yeah, it suits you.”

Suga smiled at his comment. “Thanks.”

“I promise to try not to lose this one.” He continued and Oikawa watched him walk towards the door. “Besides I’m only wearing it to wrap it around my head later in the evening when I’ve drank too much alcohol.”

Oikawa snickered at Suga’s comment and once his door was closed, Oikawa closed his eyes again.

Mysteriously disappearing ties? Maybe aliens took them.

 

...

 

Suga was beyond bored. There were people in the gallery, but they all looked stuffy and rich and old and Suga had no real interest in talking with anyone. He had made up a game in the first five minutes, trying to spot all the other artists, and it wasn’t hard. They were the ones continuously bowing with their thanks when someone complimented their art pieces.

“You look like you’re feeling just as bored as I am.”

The voice that spoke was just a little uncertain, the note of it rising in the end.

Suga turned to look at the speaker. He had semi-long dark brown hair that was partly tied back, and his face was speckled with freckles.

“I am bored.” Suga admitted. “Sugawara Koushi.” he extended his hand and the other man shook it.

“Yamaguchi Tadashi. So, you’re the new guy Takeda-san keeps talking about.” he asked, looking a little away from Suga.

Suga frowned a little at the recognition of the man’s name, but there was another question already on his tongue.

“You know Takeda-sensei?”

“He’s my agent too.”

“Oh.” Suga nodded in understanding. “What kind of artist are you?”

“I kind of do a lot of things. But mostly paint.”

“Can I see your piece?” Suga wanted a better sense of the young man’s art, since he was under Takeda’s wing as well. Not that he considered Yamaguchi competition, but still.

“Sure. It’s over here.” Yamaguchi led the way through the gallery to a large painting hung on the wall.

“It’s beautiful.” Suga said almost immediately. A slight blush flared on Yamaguchi’s cheeks.

“Thank you.” Yamaguchi smiled. “I saw your photo. It’s really good.”

“Thanks.” Suga smiled and bowed his head a little with his gratitude. It was one of his favorites, if he was being honest, and he could understand why Takeda wanted to exhibit it.

“Oh, you two have met. Excellent.” Takeda said when he appeared next to them. “I was going to introduce you to each other.”

Suga wondered why. Maybe it was just a professional courtesy?

“I found Yamaguchi when he was still at the university.” He told Suga.

It would seem that Takeda was very excited about all kinds of art and artists. He was practically quivering with happiness. Suga looked from Yamaguchi to Takeda and then back.

“How long ago was that?” Suga asked.

“Three years ago, during my second year.”

“He has a unique sense that translates really well to the canvas.” Takeda said, looking up at Yamaguchi’s art.

“I agree.” Suga nodded and noticed Yamaguchi’s cheeks reddened even more.

Was he just shy, or was there something else that caused the young man to look away every time Suga gave him a compliment?

“And Suga has an excellent eye when it comes to looking through a camera lens.” Takeda spoke to Yamaguchi.

“It’s nothing special.” Suga felt a little uncomfortable, hearing his “art” complimented.

“Someone disagrees with you since I’ve already sold your photo.” Takeda said seriously, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

“The gallery's doors opened only 15 minutes ago. How is that possible?” Suga asked, uncomprehending.

“I told you, people like your art.” Takeda explained patiently. It had been his main argument when he had been twisting Suga’s arm about attending this gallery.

Suga had to admit that Takeda was right, as he looked around the large space, noticing how his photo drew the gazes of people passing and stopping to examine it.

“Oh, excuse me. I see an old friend.” Takeda said suddenly and left Suga and Yamaguchi alone again.

“So, Yamaguchi-san.” Suga turned to look at him. “Do you know where they’re keeping the alcohol?”

“No. I was looking for it too when I saw you.” He answered, looking around the space with Suga.

“Want to go an adventure and find where it’s hidden?” Suga suggested and Yamaguchi agreed eagerly.

 

...

 

“Oh, you’re still up.” Suga said when he opened the front door.

Oikawa glanced at him from the couch, where he was sitting to watch X-files. And took a double take of Suga dressed in his suit.

“Well, I slept through most of the day, so I’m not that tired yet.” Oikawa said, his eyes roaming on Suga. He hadn’t seen him before the gallery and had missed how good he looked in the suit.

“How was the gallery?”

“It was more fun than I thought it would be.” Suga answered and came to stand by the couch he was sitting on, eyes trained on the TV. “Not oodles of fun, but fun.” He smiled at Oikawa.

“You look good. The suit suits you.” Oikawa said, still looking up and down at Suga. He couldn’t get over how different he looked in the suit compared to the clothes he usually wore. Oikawa used to think that he himself was the most beautiful man he knew, but now he might have some competition for the title as he looked at Suga.

“Thanks.” Suga smiled wider at the compliment and Oikawa nodded. He tried to think of a reason for Suga to sit down with him.

“Want to watch X-files?”

 It had taken some time for Oikawa to brave to watch the series in front of Suga, but it seemed like Suga didn’t mind his nerdy side, more like he liked it. Suga always beamed of joy when he shared this side of him. At least he had since four days ago when they had sat down to watch the series together for the first time.

“Hm, why not. I’ll just go change.” Suga answered.

Oikawa nodded and looked after Suga when he walked out of the living room and disappeared to the hallway.

“By the way, did you dance with the tie around your head?” Oikawa remembered their earlier conversation when he had been half asleep.

“Unfortunately not. They were stingy with the alcohol.” Suga answered and Oikawa let out a huff of laughter at Suga’s almost petulant voice carrying down to the living room.

He was glad though. He would have hated to miss seeing that.

“Maybe next time then.” Oikawa called.

“Definitely.” Suga called back.

Couple of minutes later Suga came back to the living room, carrying Oikawa’s tie in his hand. He put it down on the coffee table before he sat down on the same couch. He was dressed in comfortable looking sweats and a t-shirt and Oikawa missed the suit he had been wearing. Not that Suga didn’t look good like this too.

“Thank you for the tie.” Suga said, drawing his legs close to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“And don’t think I didn’t notice the UFO and alien patterned ties in your closet when I got that one.”

Oikawa froze when he remembered them too.

“ _Those_ were a gag gift.” He explained, lied, because he had once bought them on a whim. Not that he’d ever actually wear them.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Suga smiled at Oikawa and he narrowed his eyes at Suga, because it was clear he didn’t believe Oikawa’s poor attempt of explanation.

But he was spared from trying to tell more lies about the ties, or from digging a hole for himself, when Suga spoke again, eyes now on the TV again.

“You know, I came up with a theory on why I can’t find my ties.”

“Oh?” Oikawa said, pleased that the UFO and alien patterned ties were a dropped topic, and turned back to Mulder and Scully as well.

“The aliens took them.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened at surprise. _Oh my God_ , he thought and turned his head to look at Suga.

“They’re using them to blend into our society and are walking around with the ties wrapped around their heads because that’s how they think they’re used.” Suga continued.

“Suga, what the hell?” Oikawa laughed and Suga joined him.

It took a couple of minutes for them to calm down from their fit of giggles.

“I was wrong before.” Oikawa admitted.

“About what?”

_“You_ are my favorite person.”

“You just happen to like that I cater to your nerdy side.” Suga smiled in spite of his words. Oikawa was glad he looked pleased.

“You like it, though. My nerdy side.” Oikawa said confidently. For some reason he didn’t even think to dispute that he had been called nerdy.

“No comment.”

Oikawa smiled at the words and at the man who was smiling next to him.

 

...

 

“Oikawa?” He heard Suga’s voice. “Are you ready to go?”

Oikawa raised his eyes slowly to Suga, his brow a little furrowed with incomprehension.

“To Daichi and Iwaizumi’s. Remember?” Suga smiled kindly and patiently.

“Oh, yeah.” Oikawa remembered belatedly and got up from his chair, closing his laptop and the dissertation he had been writing. “Just give me a minute to change.” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

“I’ll be in the living room.” He heard Suga say. “Waiting.”  

“I’ll just need a minute.” Oikawa said again, rifling through his closet for something to wear. Even though his closet was full of clothes, he realized that he had nothing to wear.

“Maybe I’ll read a book or something.” Suga’s voice carried from the hallway and Oikawa grabbed the first shirt he saw that looked presentable and pulled it on. He didn’t want to make Suga wait.

He was still pulling his sweater over his head when he walked into the living room and saw Suga lounging on the couch, sans book.

“Wow, that was quick.” Suga remarked.

“I told you I’d only need a minute.”

“You did.” Suga admitted. “But before when you’ve said “just a minute”, it’s taken at least ten.”

“Well, back then I wanted to keep you waiting.”

“And now you don’t?” Suga raised his eyebrows a little with his question.

Oikawa made a decision not to answer and instead pulled his jacket on. “Are we going or not?”

“I’m coming.” Suga smiled.

Oikawa waited with his hand on the doorknob for Suga to put his shoes on.

“Ready?” He asked when Suga straightened up.

“Yes.” Suga nodded. “Oh, wait.”

Oikawa stopped before he had been able to make a move to turn the doorknob.

Suga reached towards him and his hands did something with the hood of his jacket, his fingers lightly grazing Oikawa’s neck. “There. Your hood was inside your jacket.”

“Thanks.” Oikawa said, the feel on Suga’s fingers still at the back of his neck, raising goosebumps. “Ready now?”

Suga smiled. “Yes, let’s go.”

 

...

 

“For the last time Suga, I’m not kidnapping a member of a boyband for you.” Daichi said, sounding very exasperated.

“But Santa...” Suga said to his best friend, hands outstretching towards him.

“No.” Daichi was adamant and Suga sighed in defeat.

“Hey, Iwaizumi.” Suga called, his expression brightening again, and Oikawa noticed Daichi roll his eyes, clearly knowing what was coming. “For my Christmas present, can I –“

“No.” Iwaizumi cut off Suga’s request immediately in a stern voice.

Oikawa had seen glimpses of Suga interacting with Iwaizumi and Daichi before, and had gotten the idea that the three of them had grown quite close with one another. Yet, still, this kind of back and forth was new to Oikawa. And he loved observing it – Daichi shaking his head at his best friend’s antics as he pouted at Iwaizumi, who in turn rolled his eyes at Suga.

“You know what, Suga-chan,” Oikawa spoke up and everyone turned to look at him. “I’ll get you a boyband member for Christmas present.”

“Oikawa,” Daichi warned him, “don’t encourage Suga’s neediness for a cute celebrity.”

“I didn’t make any promises that it would be alive.” Oikawa grinned at the stern expression Daichi was wearing. “Or that it had ever been alive.” he quickly added when he noticed their scowls. “But they sell those miniatures at almost every cutesy-store.” he shrugged, once again with a smirk.

“But I don’t want a miniature.”

“Take it or leave it, Suga.” Oikawa turned to say to Suga, who still had his upper-torso draped over the kitchen table.

He seemed to think it through for a second before he flipped his hand, with a disappointed expression. “I’ll take it.” Suga sighed and sat back normally on the chair. “There’s always next year.” He added with a hopeful grin and Daichi and Iwaizumi groaned in unison.

“Why don’t you two go wait in the living room while we make the tea?” Daichi suggested, turning away to boil the water.

“Sure.” Suga agreed easily, getting up. Oikawa followed him to the living room and sat on the couch with him.

“What do you want for a Christmas present?” Suga turned his body a little towards Oikawa to ask.

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

“But if you’re getting me a boyband member, I have to get you something too.”

“I don’t really have any Christmas present wishes.”

“Really? You?”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Really? You?” Suga asked again, with even more incredulity in his voice, overdoing it to comical proportions.

“Okay, yes, there are a lot of things I want. But nothing that you have to get me.”

“Fine, I’ll come up with something for you on my own then.” Suga said with a faraway look set in his eyes, like he was already trying to come up with something.

“You really don’t have to.” Oikawa insisted. It had been everything for him that Suga had let him stay in his apartment so long without paying rent, and Oikawa was still trying to figure out how to repay.

It didn’t seem that Suga heard him, though. Or maybe he had just decided not to listen.

“Do you like snow?” Suga asked.

“Not really.” Oikawa answered immediately, honestly.  

Suga tilted his head a little. “Really?”

“You do?”

“Of course I do.” Suga said like it was obvious. Oikawa didn’t share the opinion.  

“What’s so good about snow?” He had to ask. He didn’t really get it. It was cold and wet and had the capability to make everyday life harder for people.  

“What isn’t good about snow?” Suga countered and turned even more, settling on the couch so he was leaning his side to the back of the couch. “It’s fun. It’s beautiful. The world turns quiet when it’s covered in snow.” Suga listed, counting down his points with his fingers.

“No, it’s cold. It’s wet. And it makes everything cold and wet.” Oikawa counted with his fingers too.

“I know what I’ll get you for Christmas.”

“Don’t tell me it’s snow.”

“Of course it’s snow.”

“But I don’t like snow.”

“I’m going to make you like it.” Suga stated confidently.

“Noo...” Oikawa whined and leaned his head to Suga’s neck. “You’re mean.”

He heard and felt Suga laugh his little laugh. “I’m delightful.”

Oikawa grumbled and burrowed his face to the crook of Suga’s neck, making Suga laugh louder at the sensation, the slight tickle of his breath ghosting on Suga’s collarbone.

 

...

 

Daichi and Iwaizumi traded a look in the kitchen, preparing the tea.

“Do they not realize how they look?” Daichi asked from his boyfriend.

“Clearly not.”

“Should we tell them? Or ask them what the hell is going on between them?”

“I don’t think so.” Iwaizumi slowly shook his head a little. “Let them be. They’re happy in, well, whatever that is.” He gestured towards the two laughing on the couch.

Oikawa wasn’t leaning on Suga anymore, but there was a soft smile on Suga’s lips when he looked at Oikawa and the way the tall man was animatedly moving his hands as the talked about something.

“They’ll realize what it is and then they’ll tell us.” Iwaizumi continued, sounding confident and Daichi wanted to believe him. It probably was true, in Oikawa’s case. But Suga wasn’t as forthcoming about his relationships.

There was one thing that Iwaizumi was definitely right about – they did look happy, both of them laughing and bickering, sassing each other.

“Come on, let’s go spoil their moment.” Iwaizumi urged Daichi.

Daichi picked up the tray and followed him to the living room.

“Do you guys have plans for new year?” Daichi asked, setting the tray down and offering a filled cup to everyone before he settled to sit in the armchair with Iwaizumi.

“Nothing.” Suga answered.

“Dissertation.” Oikawa informed them.

“And convincing Oikawa that the snow is the best thing in the world.” Suga added with a teasing smirk.

“It’s not.” Oikawa disagreed.

“Don’t bother, Oikawa.” Daichi said, sighing with exasperation. “Suga can’t be outdone when it comes to opinion on snow.”

“Seriously?” Oikawa asked from him and looked at Suga, addressing him next. “How are you this opinionated about snow, of all things?”

“I like snow.” Suga shrugged, smiling happily. “I have a lot of good memories about snow. Don’t you remember playing snowball fight with friends? Or building snow castles?”

“But that’s when you were a kid. What fun could snow be to an adult?”

“I’ll show you.” Suga tilted his head a little with his smile.

Daichi studied Suga, but not because of the smile. It was Suga’s tone that caught his attention. Was he seriously flirting with Oikawa? And if he was, how harmless was it? Of course neither Oikawa nor Iwaizumi noticed it, but Daichi knew his best friend, and recognized the slightest change of note in his voice.

“Until then I’ll stick to my opinion.” Oikawa said and sipped his tea, signaling the end of their banter.

“Do you two have any plans for new year?” Suga asked, pulling his legs partly under him, now that the discourse between him and Oikawa was laid to rest.

“We’re going back to Miyagi for a week.” Iwaizumi answered. “We stay at Daichi’s parents first, for his birthday, and then we’ll visit mine.” 

“Tell your parents I said hey.” Oikawa said.

“Of course. Do you want me to go say hi to your parents too? I can.” Iwaizumi offered.

“No, they’re not going to be home anyway.”

“Oh, where are they?”

“Visiting my sister and her family.” There was an undeterminable emotion in Oikawa’s eyes that worried Daichi.  

Suga must’ve noticed it too. He placed a comforting hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, accompanied with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m fine, Suga-chan.” Oikawa looked at Suga.

“I know.” Suga said quietly and it was met with a soft smile from Oikawa.

Daichi traded another look with Iwaizumi.

“Let’s move to happier subjects.” Daichi suggested and put his teacup on the table, moving to sit on the floor between Iwaizumi’s legs. “How was your gallery thing, Suga?”

“This isn’t a happier subject.” Suga stated immediately, dropping his hand from Oikawa’s shoulder, but he didn’t look too unhappy.

“It was bad then?” Daichi tried to read his expression.

“No, it was fine. But I was forced against my free will to go and therefore I don’t want to talk about it.”

Daichi turned his gaze to Oikawa, waiting for him to tell how the gallery had been. He had a funny feeling that Oikawa would know, that Suga had told him.

“Apparently it was dry with practically no alcohol, boring because of the rich and old people, and fun but not oodles of fun because he made a new friend.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I guess not.” Suga admitted. “But I don’t really want to talk about it. Can we just play Mario Kart or something?”

“Sure.” Iwaizumi agreed quickly and got up to set it up, throwing controllers to everyone. “If anyone suggests the Rainbow Road, they’re banned from this apartment for a year.”

Daichi, Suga and Oikawa laughed.

“What?” Iwaizumi asked with a wrinkled brow.

“You’re always the one who suggests the Rainbow Road.” Oikawa said.

“No, I’m not.” Iwaizumi said, but looked to Daichi for confirmation.

“You are.” He answered and patted Iwaizumi’s thigh when he came back to sit in the armchair with a ligth scowl.

“Well, it’s not happening tonight.” Iwaizumi said with confidence.

Daichi traded a look with Oikawa, knowing that it would happen at some point in the evening.

And it took an hour and 11 minutes for Iwaizumi to suggest it.

 

...

 

The bag was glaring at him again.

Suga was home alone. He was probably alone in the whole building. Most of the tenants had already left to celebrate New Year, others were still at work, or at school like Oikawa, for the last day before winter break.

The bag kept glaring at him.

Suga swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his phone to send a message. The courage to do so came from somewhere deep in him, moving his fingers to type it.

Guess he was doing this now.

He closed his eyes, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he would even get.

He took a deep breath, giving up on waiting now, and getting ready to toss his phone on the bed when it beeped with an incoming message. He held in his next breath as he read the message.

_I’m home now_

 

Suga let out his breath slowly.

He was doing this now.

 

...

 

The lightest snow was falling when Suga walked down a familiar street he hadn’t walked for over a month. It looked the same, but Suga definitely didn’t feel the same.

It had been considerably easy to leave his own apartment, but as he got closer and closer to Terushima’s apartment, he grew more and more anxious. He was starting to overthink everything, from the way he was dressed down to wondering how people could feel time pass.

He arrived to the right building too soon, the stairs up to the apartment were shorter than he remembered, and he rang the doorbell before he was properly ready to.

The door opened almost immediately, couldn’t have been more than a second or two. It definitely wasn’t enough to take a steadying breath to dispel his anxiousness.

Suga took in the two men standing just inside the apartment – Terushima and someone else with brown hair and brown eyes. He was taller than Terushima and Suga wondered if this was _him._

“Suga,” Terushima gasped, like his stomach had been punched from seeing him.

“I was just on my way out.” The other man said and Suga stepped aside to let him pass. He noticed Terushima’s eyes follow the man’s furthering back before they moved back to Suga.

“Come in.” Terushima gestured. His eyes were wide with surprise. Suga wondered if Terushima had gotten his message. He had answered it, though. Had it really been that big of a surprise for Terushima to see him standing here, or was it because Suga came few minutes earlier than they had agreed to, and Terushima had wanted the other man out of the apartment before that?

Suga didn’t know where he found the capability, but he was able to shake his head, his voice even when he spoke. “No. I just came to bring this.” He extended the arm that was holding the bag.

Terushima took the bag, uncertainty layering his expression.

Suga let his arm drop to his side. He could go home now. He had done what he came for. It was all over now.

“Suga I...” Terushima stopped, his eyes roaming on Suga’s face.

“Whatever it is you want to tell me, I don’t want to hear it.” Suga said before Terushima had the chance to continue. “I don’t think I could take it. Whether it’s how you woke up the next morning with regret, how you wanted to call me or how sorry you are.”

Terushima nodded, looking sorry.

“Can you tell me, though, are you happy with him?” Suga asked timidly. The question sometimes plaqued him.

“It’s still new.”

Suga nodded in understanding.

“I really do hope that you’re happy with him.” He wished, his voice dripping with sincerity, the smallest smile on his lips. He really did mean it.

Terushima smiled back, dropping the bag on the floor. He took a tentative step forward, and pulled Suga into a hug.

Suga wrapped his arms around Terushima, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had held when Terushima had initiated the hug. It was painfully familiar, but he had gotten so many hugs lately that it also felt a little wrong.

He pulled away first.

“Bye Yuuji.” He said and turned away immediately, controlling his steps to be even and unhurried as he walked away. It was somewhat easier now than it had been over a month ago.

“Bye Koushi.” He heard Terushima say, but he didn’t hear the door close until he had turned the corner and was out of sight.

Suga leaned his back against the wall by the stairs and closed his eyes.

It was all done now.

“He still loves you.”

Suga whipped his head towards the voice and saw the earlier man.

“Futakuchi Kenji.” He extended his hand and Suga shook it.

“Sugawara Koushi.” He said carefully, studying the apology in the man’s eyes. He hadn’t expected the man to wait here. Had that been his intention all along, even if Suga had arrived to Terushima’s apartment later?

“I promise to make him happy.” Futakuchi said in a way that made Suga want to believe him.

Suga nodded, unable to say anything, thoroughly blindsided by the encounter.  

“And I’m really sorry.”

The sincerity made Suga want to cry again.

Futakuchi probably noticed it, and even if he hadn’t, Suga was grateful that he took his leave, his steps echoing quietly in the stairwell.

Suga took a wavering breath and collected himself. His hands were shaking a little when he started to descend the stairs as well.

His walk back home felt surreal.

It was all done now.

 

...

 

The building was quiet when Oikawa came home. Not that he could hear the neighbors on an ordinary day, but the empty building seemed quieter than it usually was. Somehow lacking of life, hollow.  

“I’m home.” He called when he stepped inside their apartment, but he didn’t get an answer.

Suga must’ve been out... somewhere. Oikawa wasn’t sure where and what Suga might be doing, and he didn’t really feel like venturing into guessing game when it could be just about anything.

Oikawa walked down the hallway, planning on how to spend the rest of the day. He had already made up his mind on not studying tonight, since he had the whole break for that.

He stopped two steps away from his own room, after he had passed Suga’s room, and walked backwards to stand by the open door. There was something missing.

He looked around Suga’s room, noting everything that was always there – the furniture, the cameras in a neat row on a shelf, the open books on the bedside table, the bag by the...

When he noticed what was missing, it took only a second for him to realize where Suga must be.

A worry started to raise its head inside him as he continued to his room and dropped his school bag on the floor by his bed. He fell to lie on the soft bedding, wondering what mood Suga would be in when he’d come back.

Oikawa was trying to think of ways to pass his time, and failing in it. He kept coming up on different scenarios in which Suga would be coming home, displaying a mix of feelings. He was smiling, he was sad, he was angry, he was silent. Oikawa wasn’t sure if he liked any of them. They all had their drawbacks.

If Suga was smiling – good. That showed that he was happy, but would the happiness actually be good and what would it mean? Was Suga over Terushima and had it been good for him to see the man? Or maybe they had rekindled their love, realizing what a stupid mistake it had been for them to break up.

If he was sad – bad. Very bad, but what would that mean? Would it just tell Oikawa that Suga still wasn’t over Terushima? If he was angry, had something happened that made him mad and what would that something be? If he was silent... That was the worst scenario in Oikawa’s mind. It would definitely mean that Suga wasn’t over Terushima and that just didn’t work for Oikawa.

He wandered around the apartment as he waited for Suga, sitting down somewhere for a second, only to stand up again and continue with the circle his steps were starting to groove on the floor. He didn’t stop until he heard the front door open.

“Hey.” He said when he walked back to the living room he had circled ten times and saw Suga taking off his jacket.

“Hey.” Suga smiled weakly and Oikawa went to him immediately.

“You okay?”

“Yeah?”

Oikawa smiled with sympathy at the question in Suga’s voice and pulled him into a hug. It took only a short moment for Suga to wrap his arms around Oikawa and press his cheek on Oikawa’s shoulder.

Oikawa pushed away the thought how nice it was to hug Suga, how wonderful his warmth felt against him, how he could smell Suga's shampoo, how _perfect_ he felt against him.

“How’d you know?” Suga asked, holding on tighter.

“I noticed Terushima’s stuff was gone.”

Oikawa felt Suga take a deep breath and he let Suga go when he started to pull away.

“How are you really?” Oikawa asked with worry, his fingers brushing Suga’s hair off his forehead.

Suga looked to the side, thinking about his answer. “I think I’m okay.” He answered when his eyes trained back to Oikawa’s.

“Good.” Oikawa nodded, feeling a mix of things. He was glad that Suga thought he was okay, but a little disappointed that Suga didn’t seem like he needed that much comforting.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” He asked, feeling more and more assured that Suga really did seem okay.

“Not really. Just some work stuff, Takeda-related things.” Suga answered vaguely. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He smiled.

“Okay.” Oikawa looked after Suga and let out his disappointment with a sigh, stopping to mull over why on earth he was disappointed. There was no reason for him to be disappointed, right? Suga was okay and that was good.

It _was_ good, wasn’t it?

His thoughts were interrupted with a ding from his phone.

 

_Haven’t seen you in weeks. Is everything okay? I’d like to hear from you._

 

Well, that certainly pulled him away from obsessing over Suga’s behavior.

Oikawa hadn’t seen Kageyama for weeks, that was true, and he had stopped communicating with the man without explanation. He almost felt bad.

He thought over what to answer. He should definitely answer, since Kageyama’s last message had gone unanswered.

 

_Everything’s good. Just been busy_

 

Kageyama’s next message came immediately.

 

_It’s my birthday today. Wanna hang?_

 

He could go and hang. But Suga was...

Oikawa decided to check on Suga before he answered Kageyama. If he was okay, he could go if he wanted to. But if he wasn’t okay, he definitely shouldn’t go. Suga might need him.

He knocked on the open door. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, taking good care to read every minute twitch or move of a muscle on Suga’s face.

Suga looked up from his laptop. “Yeah.” He smiled. “You don’t need to worry about me. It was good that I took Terushima’s stuff back to him.”

Oikawa deflated infinitesimally. Suga said the man’s name so easily, like it was nothing, when only two weeks ago, with Akiko, it had turned Suga’s smile upside down.

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

“Good.” Oikawa stated, still studying Suga. He really did look okay. Maybe he could go then. Since Suga was so okay about seeing Terushima.

“Did you need something?” Suga looked a little amused.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head. “I just came to check on you. I’m going out for a bit.” He told Suga, deciding to do so as he said it.

“Okay. Have fun.” Suga smiled like he knew exactly where Oikawa was going.

“You can call or text if you need something, anything.” He promised, just on the off chance that he was misreading Suga’s expressions.

“I’ll be fine, Oikawa.” Suga kept smiling.

“Okay, I’ll see you later, then.” Oikawa said and waved before he turned away from Suga’s room.

He kept second-guessing his decision to see Kageyama as he walked through their apartment, put his jacket and shoes on, and grabbed what he might need – keys, phone and such, and walked down the building’s stairs.

There was a gnawing feeling in his gut when he stepped out of the quiet building into the cold air and onto the busy street.

Was he making a mistake going to see Kageyama?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Kageyama's back. There's a reason for it in the next chapter.  
> *makes a diabolic plotpoint and disregards it because he's actually fun to write*  
> *throws away the original outline and makes things up as the story goes on*
> 
> to be continued:  
> “If you’d seen yourself with Oikawa these past weeks, you’d be wondering about you two too.”
> 
>  
> 
> [ tread carefully ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *leaves this here and subtly sneaks away*

 

A new year has just started and it seems alright so far... It’s suspicious

 

* * *

 

 

Tanaka went over to Suga’s apartment after his work day, saw what Suga was doing and started to help. He was sure they were the last ones still left in the building. He had another week of work ahead of him before he’d visit his family, while almost everyone else had already gone to visit theirs.

It was kind of nice to be alone with Suga like this. There was warmth in Suga, that Tanaka was sure he didn’t even realize he exuded, and it always made everyone feel better. In that regard Suga was just like his mother. And he kind of needed that tonight.

Tanaka thought back to when he had found out that she had visited, and how he had been embarrassingly depressed about it. He had felt like he should make up for it somehow, maybe apologize that he had practically demanded to be comforted. But Suga had been adamant the next day when he tried to explain, saying that it wasn’t necessary, that he most definitely understood and it was okay to be needy and wanting of physical comfort.

Even though it was over two weeks ago, that could be a part of the reason why he was helping Suga now.  When he walked in earlier in search of food, he’d seen Suga standing on a chair, taping fishing line on the ceiling. The look on his face must’ve been interesting, for Suga burst in laughing, unable to explain what on earth he was doing. But Tanaka only shrugged, grabbed a chair and started to tape the fishing line onto the ceiling like Suga was, explanation unneeded.

Another reason why he was helping was because he was _him,_ and it was in his DNA to help without the need for anyone to ask.  

“So, why are you doing this?” Tanaka asked, stepping down from the chair to get more tape.

“It’s a Christmas present for Oikawa.” Suga answered, his head tilted up to see what he was doing as he reached up with his hand.

“Okay.” Tanaka nodded, looking up, studying the ceiling. “I don’t get it.”

Suga looked down to him and jumped off the chair he was standing on. “You’ll see.” he smiled mysteriously and pushed Tanaka from his shoulders to the front door and turned him so he was looking at the living area.

And Tanaka understood. The view was spectacular.

He just still didn’t quite understand why Suga was going through all this effort for a Christmas present for Oikawa. Wouldn’t it be easier to just get the man a book or something?

“Are you hungry?” Suga asked, bringing him back from his thoughts after he had been quietly admiring the way Suga’s apartment looked.

“A little.” Tanaka nodded, remembering why he had come in the first place.

“You’re welcome to anything in the fridge.” Suga smiled and Tanaka followed him to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge and perused the options before he settled on leftover pizza. He was contemplating whether to heat it up or not, when Suga addressed him again.

“Can I ask you something?” he spoke softly, carefully even.

“Sure.” Tanaka answered easily, not thinking much of Suga’s tone.

“Do you know someone called Futakuchi Kenji?”

“Uh...” Tanaka thought for a moment as he grabbed a plate before he put it in the microwave. “Yes.” He remembered.

Suga turned his head slowly to look at him, and his eyes were wider than Tanaka had ever seen. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” Tanaka nodded. “We work at the same company, different departments and on different floors, but there’s some overlap with our projects, so I’ve met him a handful of times. He was at my birthday party.”

“That’s why his name was so familiar.” Suga said in a hushed voice.

“What?” Tanaka asked.

“Nothing.” Suga smiled at him again, but turned quickly away.

“Why did you ask about him?” Tanaka asked as he took the slice of pizza from the microwave and started to eat it, leaning to the kitchen counter.

“No particular reason. The name just popped into my head from somewhere.” Suga explained, sounding vague.

“He’s a good guy. Reliable.” Tanaka said casually, still unperturbed by Suga’s slight change in tone. “I think he’s dating someone though.”

“I didn’t ask because I was interested in him.”

“Alright.” Tanaka accepted and continued eating.

“Oikawa is right,” Suga said with his back turned towards Tanaka as he was taping the silk paper on the kitchen cupboards now. “It’s ridiculous we seem to be just a few steps away from knowing a friend of a friend who also knows another friend.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing, forget it.” Suga waved his hand. “So, any plans for next week?”

“I’m going to my parents on Friday, during the rush hour when everyone is going to be traveling, and I’m coming back on Sunday.”

“You’re only staying the weekend?” Suga asked, sounding like himself again.

“I have work the next Monday, so, yes.” Tanaka finished with the pizza and put the plate in the sink. “Can I help you with this too?”

“If you insist.” Suga agreed with a shrug.

“I heard you’re going to stay here.”

Suga nodded in answer. “Yeah, my mom’s traveling so...”

“Don’t you have grandparents? Why don’t you visit them?”

“Only my mom’s parents, and next week they’re going to be in Hawaii.”

“So? Can’t you go too?” Tanaka asked, honestly intrigued. He thought that Suga would find a lot to photograph there.

“And ruin their anniversary? I don’t think so.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tanaka made a face. “That does sound a little rude.”

Suga chuckled a little.

“So...” Tanaka thought for a second before he continued. “You’re just going to be home with Oikawa?”

“Yeah.” Suga smiled a little.

“Are you sure you can handle him?”

“I’ve lived with him for three months. I think we’ll be fine.” Suga sounded certain and Tanaka believed him. If anyone could handle Oikawa, it was Suga.

“By the way, where is he? Didn’t school break start today?”

“He went out. I don’t think he’s coming home until tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Tanaka dragged the word. “That kind of “out”.”

Suga smiled a little, but it didn’t look like a happy smile. “Yeah.”

 

...

 

“Hi, honey! I’m home!” Oikawa called, closing the front door when he came home the next day. He hadn’t meant to spend the night with Kageyama, but they had talked and talking had led to sex and that had led to more talking, which turned into sleeping.

It was somewhat dark in the apartment, which was a little odd at that time of the day, and for a moment Oikawa thought that Suga wasn’t home until he saw his shoes by the door as he took off his own. A moment later he heard soft footfalls and he turned towards the sound – and froze on the spot.

There were little white things suspended in the air and as he looked closer, he recognized them to be pieces of silkpaper cut into different shapes of snowflakes. The curtains were down to make it look like night, and only the softest light was illuminating the space, catching on the snowflakes, making it really look like it was snowing inside their apartment. Oikawa had to admit that it looked like a magical winter wonderland as he looked around him. Even the walls were adorned with the fake snowflakes and the floors were here and there covered in scattered cut up white paper.

“What’s this?” Oikawa asked when he noticed Suga by the hallway.

“It’s snow.”

“I see that.” Oikawa stated, carefully walking in midst of the paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, the little scraps on the floor moving in the gusts of air his feet caused when he walked. Suga had seen a lot of trouble. “Is this a part of your plan to make me like snow?”

“It’s your Christmas present.” Suga smiled. “I promised you snow, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Oikawa said softly. Maybe it had been a good idea to see Kageyama after all. If he hadn’t left yesterday, Suga wouldn’t have been able to do this. But still... Maybe he shouldn’t have gone. Suga did this, _all this,_ for him.

“So, did you have fun last night?” Suga introduced another subject seamlessly.

“I guess.” Oikawa answered, a little disappointed that Suga brought it up.

But his answer was honest. It had been a little awkward first to see Kageyama again, after so much time. He had explained why he hadn’t kept in touch, insisting that he had just been busy with school work and his dissertation, not liking the fact that Kageyama wanted an explanation. They weren’t a couple. But he didn’t say a word about Suga. Kageyama didn’t need to know how much time he had spent with his roommate. He had a feeling that the man had a jealous streak in him. Just like he did.

But this wasn’t the time to think about Kageyama. No, this was... This was beyond words, thoroughly indescribable and almost incomprehensible.

“How did you do this?” Oikawa asked, directing his thoughts away from Kageyama.

“It wasn’t hard.” Suga played with one of the snowflakes hanging near him. “What do you think?” he asked, and Oikawa detected the hopeful note in his voice.

“It’s beautiful.”

Suga looked pleased. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it.”

A slight blush spread on Suga’s cheeks and he tucked his chin down a little, his eyes downcast to the floor. Oikawa watched with interest how Suga collected himself with a deep breath.

“Why did you go through all this trouble for a Christmas present?” Oikawa asked, still marveling at the beautifully cut silk papers, testing the material of one of them between his fingers.

“It wasn’t a trouble at all and I had some help. It was fun.” Suga answered. “Come here.” he curled his fingers a little, beckoning for Oikawa to come closer.

Oikawa walked slowly, the snowflakes gently brushing against him as he took the necessary five steps.

“Lie down.” Suga instructed.

“What?”

“Just lie on your back.”

Oikawa did as Suga asked him to and in a matter of seconds Suga lied down next to him on the hard floor, in middle of the space between the kitchen and living room, close enough for them to feel each other’s bodyheat.

“Look up.”

Oikawa did once again as Suga asked him to, and held in his breath. The snowflakes were swaying a little in the air, and the way light flicked through gave the illusion that they were really surrounded in a soft snowfall, the quiet of the building making the experience even more eerie and real.

“This really is magnificent, Suga-chan.”

“There’s that pretentiousness again.”

Oikawa heard the teasing in Suga’s voice and nudged him with his elbow. He let the comment go though, and focused on what he was seeing.  

“Have you done this before?” Oikawa turned his head to the side to look at Suga.

“No, never.”

“How’d you come up with it then?”

“I’ve wanted to do it before, but never had any reason to. Until now.” Suga spoke softly. “I have to admit, I’m glad it turned out this well.” Suga turned his head too, and met his eyes. “I’m happy you like it.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me.” Oikawa spoke as softly as Suga had, keeping with the calm around them.

Suga smiled a little and turned his head to look up to the ceiling again. Oikawa kept studying his profile, wondering how Suga would look like if the snow was falling behind his head and if he was looking down to Oikawa.

Suga shifted a little on the floor and his hand brushed the back of Oikawa’s. It brought him back to the moment, the enchanting feel surrounding them. He didn’t want Suga to move away yet and hooked his pinky over Suga’s fingers, gently running it along them.

This really was the most beautiful gift he had ever gotten. And he had nothing to give back to Suga.

 

...

 

The next week flew by fast, majority of it spent in relative quietness. Oikawa had focused on his dissertation, and since Suga didn’t want to bother him, he had spent a lot of time outside with his camera, visiting places in Tokyo he had never been to before.

During the silent week, it had been nice to be alone with Oikawa. They always ate together, taking their time in making every breakfast, lunch and dinner. But other than that, Oikawa was shut in in his room, while Suga tried to busy himself with anything. He wasn’t sure why, but there seemed to be a current crackling between them whenever they were in the same room and it lingered in the apartment, making Suga feel uneasy to just sit around and do nothing.

The snowflakes hanging from the ceiling still decorated their apartment after New Year, and were a cause of marvel to others. Oikawa had been adamant about keeping them, when Suga had suggested that he could take them down. However, the little scraps that Suga had spread on the floor had been cleaned away earlier because Oikawa had a hard time of adjusting to them with his selective compulsiveness for cleanliness and order.

“You know, if you still feel like cleaning or organizing, you can continue what you started in my closet.” Suga suggested from the couch where he was sitting cross-legged, watching Oikawa make sure he had gathered every piece of paper from the floor.

“Is the Totoro hat still there?”

“Yes.” Suga admitted. After Oikawa had flung it into his closet, Suga had gone in to hide it back into the drawer. His suit was there again too.

“Then I’m not going in.” Oikawa said.

It made Suga chuckle.

“Don’t laugh.” Oikawa turned to look at him from the kitchen. “That hat has been haunting my dreams.” Oikawa added with overdone seriousness.

“I’m sorry.” Suga laughed. He really was, even though he probably didn’t sound like it.

“Stop laughing.” Oikawa pouted. “It’s literally the stuff from nightmares and I’ve been subjected to it against my own free will.”

“I know, I really am sorry.” Suga grew serious, fighting his giggling not to bubble up.

“You have to make it up to me.” Oikawa declared, his hands on his hips.

“I already made it up to you. We watched X-files. Remember?”

“That was for making me wear it so you could take the photo. You have to make up for the emotional scars now.”

“Okay, fine.” Suga moved to the edge of the couch and clasped his hands in his lap. “How can I make it up to you?”

He heard Oikawa hum as he thought.

“I can’t come up with anything right now.”

“Okay. I’ll owe you one then.”

“Alright.” Oikawa agreed. “I’d love to hang longer, but I have studying to do.”

“Remember to take breaks.” Suga reminded him. He sighed quietly when Oikawa disappeared into the hallway and he heard the familiar creak of his door. He fell to lie on the couch, one of his legs dangling over the edge.

“What to do now?” Suga asked from himself, weighing his options.

He was out of the apartment in five minutes, with a note left on the kitchen island informing Oikawa where he was, knowing that it would probably go unnoticed and unread.

 

...

 

“Hey, Suga.” Kuroo called when Suga exited Asahi’s apartment. He had gone to make sure that Asahi’s plants were still alive. He was a little worried that he’d been drowning them with the excessive watering.  

He turned to look at the man at the bottom of the stairs and noticed that he wasn’t alone. “Hey Kuroo, Tsukishima-san.”

“Is Asahi home already?” Kuroo asked when they reached Suga and they continued to walk up the stairs together.

“No, I was just watering his plants.”

“Did you remember mine too?”

“Yes.” Suga answered patiently. He had been tasked with watering almost everyone’s plants. He was sure he had been slowly killing them all with the overabundance of water. “How was New Year?”

“It was great. I met Tsukki’s family.”

Suga made a mental note of telling this to Oikawa so he could forward the information to his mother. He looked behind him at the blond man, and saw the smallest tick upwards on his lips. “Good for you.”

“It was nothing special.” Tsukishima said, but Suga knew better. This was special to Kuroo, and he looked happier than usual.

“How was your New Year, Suga?” Kuroo asked.

“Quiet.” Suga answered honestly.

“You know, I heard that you made a new friend before Christmas.” Kuroo mentioned as they arrived to the second floor.

“Where did you hear that?”

“We ran into Daichi when we were visiting Tsukki’s family.”

“Oh.” Suga understood. “And you just casually talked about me?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo answered with nonchalance.

“That’s great, thanks.” Suga sarcastically stated.

“You’re welcome.” Kuroo smiled widely, apparently deciding to overlook the sarcasm. “So tell us about this new friend of yours.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Suga said honestly. “I think he’s actually a friend of yours, Tsukishima-san.”

“My friend?” Tsukishima looked skeptical.

“I think I’ve heard you mention him before. Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

“Oh.” Tsukishima said and Suga noticed him and Kuroo exchange a look.

“Is there something wrong?” Suga asked, looking between the two men.

“No.” Tsukishima shook his head a little. “Where’d you meet him?” he asked, looking and sounding disinterested. Suga wondered if he even wanted to know.

“At this gallery thing I had to go to.” He answered anyway, with the distaste of attending the event still lingering on his tongue.

“Hated it, huh?” Kuroo asked with a smirk.

“It was the worse.” Suga sighed, although it had its fun moments too. “But talking with Yamaguchi was kind of fun.”

Kuroo and Tsukishima traded another look.

“Seriously, is there something wrong with me and Yamaguchi talking?”

“No, why would there be?” Kuroo answered and pulled on Tsukishima’s jacket, gesturing for them to keep moving upstairs. Suga didn’t trust the faint smirk and knowing eyes on Kuroo’s face, and even less the way Tsukishima studied him before he turned away to walk with Kuroo.

“That was my question.” Suga pointed out after them.

“We’ll come by later for dinner, okay?” Kuroo called over his shoulder.

“Just answer my question.”

“We did. There’s nothing wrong.”

Suga shook his head as he opened his apartment door. He didn’t really feel like going after them to demand an answer. He could get it later when they came over to eat. At least he hoped so.

He had barely closed the door when a tall figure came into his view, almost knocking him back against the door with the speed and surprise he was approached with.

“Where were you?”

Well, that was a nice greeting to come home to, Suga thought as he took his shoes off, Bokuto practically in his face.

“Hey Bokuto.” He said in a more friendly tone. “When did you get home?”

“Just now. Where were you?” Bokuto demanded to know, looking about five seconds away from tearing his hair out. Something was wrong and it instantly started to worry Suga.

“I was watering Asahi’s plants. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Suga, I’m freaking out.”

“I can see that.” Suga spoke in his most soothing voice. “Why are you freaking out?”

 “Akaashi is sick.” Bokuto answered. “I need some medicine.”

“There’s a pharmacy only two blocks away.”

“I know, but your apartment’s closer.”

Suga sighed and rounded the kitchen island and pulled down a little basket from one of the cupboards. This wasn’t exactly anything new. His neighbors didn’t just come for food or company or the occasional borrowing of a charger, but also for medicine.

“What’s wrong with Akaashi?” Suga asked, looking through the basket’s contents.

“He has a fever and he keeps coughing.”

“Thanks for bringing the germs here.” Oikawa joined the conversation. Suga looked up and saw the man leaning his shoulder to the wall by the hallway, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What’s up?” He asked from Oikawa, rifling through his “medicine cabinet”. He hadn’t seen him for hours.

“Bokuto was being loud, banging cupboards.” Oikawa answered in a somewhat disinterest drawl. “It was distracting.”

“Sorry.” Bokuto said and looked down to the ground. “I’m just really worried.”

“It’s fine.” Oikawa shrugged nonchalantly. “I was due to take a break anyway.”

“Here.” Suga said, focusing back to Bokuto now that he found what he had been looking for. “This will bring the fever down a little. And this will help with the cough.” He handed the medicine to Bokuto.

“Thanks Suga. I’m really bad at this kind of stuff. Taking care of others.” Bokuto confessed, but Suga disagreed. He could be very good at taking care of others, especially Akaashi.

“You’re better than you think you are.” Suga said with a kind smile. “Akaashi will be fine. Just, have him take the medicine and make sure he drinks lots of fluids.”

“Thanks, Suga.”

“And let him rest.”

“He went straight to bed when we got home.”

“Good.”

“Akaashi will get better, Bokuto. Don’t worry.” Suga assured, his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder to steer him towards the front door.

“Thanks Suga.”

“No need to thank me. Let me know if you need more help.”

“I will. Bye.” Bokuto bowed his head a little and left, after he struggled to open the door because his hands were occupied with holding onto the medicine like they were the most irreplaceable and invaluable items in the world.

With Bokuto gone, Suga finally turned to Oikawa, who was still leaning to the same spot. “Germaphobe?”

“No. I just don’t want to get sick.”

“No one wants that.” Suga smiled with his teasing, and went back to the kitchen to put the basket away.

“What do you mean?” Oikawa asked, his eyebrows pulling lower and closer to each other.

“What?” Suga asked back, glancing at the man over his shoulder as he closed the cupboard.

“Do you mean that no one wants to get sick, or that no one wants me to get sick?”

“Guess.”  

“You’re really mean sometimes.”  Oikawa stated with zero bite in his voice and straightened from the wall.  

“Sorry.” Suga smiled apologetically anyway. “I really don’t wish you, or anyone, to get sick.”

Oikawa watched him closely as he sat down by the kitchen island. “So, hypothetically, if I did get sick, would you take care of me like Bokuto takes care of Akaashi?” He asked, leaning forward a little on his elbow, his chin cradled in his hand.

“No.” Suga answered quickly. “I’d stay as far away as I could so I don’t get sick too.”

“I can tell when you’re only joking.” Oikawa informed and leaned back. Suga was pleased that Oikawa had learned to tell the difference in his tones in such a little time.

“I bet you’d hover over me every second to make sure I was getting better.”

“And I still stand by my earlier statement that I don’t want you to get sick.” Suga told him.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes just a fraction and Suga let him study him. It gave an excuse for him to look at Oikawa too, with the snowflakes still hanging behind him, around them. He didn’t really understand how Oikawa couldn’t like snow, when he looked so handsome surrounded by it.

But Oikawa had been right earlier. He would take care of Oikawa. He would make sure that he took his medicine, rested, drank lots of fluids, and rested some more. Even if he knew Oikawa would probably be a huge pain in the ass about it, insisting that he wasn’t sick, or continuously whining that he was sick and demanding that Suga wouldn’t leave his side.

Suga wasn’t sure if he minded either possibility.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Oikawa asked with a little smug smile. Suga wondered if he had been able to read his thoughts and if that was why he was looking so pleased with himself.

“Just going over the shopping list.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem.” Suga teased and turned away to go to the fridge.  

“Suga,” Oikawa grabbed a hold on his sleeve, turning him back. “What were you thinking about?”

“The shopping list.” Suga insisted. “I was trying to figure out if I should by eggs or not.”

“Fine, don’t tell me.” Oikawa let go, but the determined and intrigued look in his eyes stayed.

And Suga didn’t tell him. Instead he started on a new subject to talk about, forgetting the shopping list lie. “Are you going back to your room now that the distraction has left?”

“No.” Oikawa shook his head. “I think I need a break.”

“Well, do you want to do something?” Suga suggested.  

“Could we watch X-files again?”

“Sure.” Suga agreed and went to the shelf in the living room, moving the snowflakes away with his hand so it was easier to walk by them. “By the way, Kuroo invited him and Tsukishima to come eat here tonight.”

“That’s fine.”

Suga glanced at Oikawa when he heard his tone. He knew that Oikawa wasn’t that fond of Tsukishima, something about how his saltiness didn’t blend with Tsukishima’s. But he didn’t look too against the idea. However, he was still sitting by the kitchen island.

“Are you going to watch from there?” Suga asked when the DVD player started to spin the disc.  

“No.” Oikawa answered immediately and moved over to the couch. He pulled Suga’s legs into his lap when he moved to sit on the same couch, causing him to yelp with the sudden change in position as he was pulled and jostled.

“You know you could have asked me to move without manhandling me like that?” Suga asked, partly lying on his back on the couch.

“I know.” Oikawa smirked.

Suga sighed, but he was aware of the soft smile on his lips as he positioned a pillow under his head so he could see the TV lying down. They hadn’t done much anything together since Oikawa’s winter break had started and Suga was really looking forward to this, as it was already happening.

“It’s your turn to make dinner tonight.” Suga spoke casually over the anti-piracy warning that was playing.

“I thought we were making it together again.”

“Are sure you want to? After last night when you asked if I was raised in a barn because of the way I was chopping the vegetables.”

“I was teasing you.” Oikawa laughed under his breath. “There’s really nothing wrong with the way you chop.” He patted Suga’s knee, the gesture casual and familiar now. “And if there was, I could probably ignore it. Or I’d just do it myself instead of handing you the knife.”

“At least we know what you’re going to be responsible for tonight then.” Suga raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“You mean chopping?”

“No, I mean you’re responsible for your missing fingertips, because I’ll chop tonight too, and if you have anything to say about it, your fingers will be shortened by one knuckle.”

“You really can be mean sometimes.” Oikawa pouted.

The small pout and raised chin only made Suga smile wider. Of course he wasn’t entirely serious, he’d never harm Oikawa, and he knew that Oikawa would know from his tone that he was only joking.

“And sometimes you’re really judgmental.” Suga pointed out. “There’s nothing wrong with the way I chop.”

“Excuse me?” Oikawa asked with mock incredulity. “Have you seen the way you chop?”

“Yes.”

“So, then, you’re aware that your chopping resembles the way that you organize? I mean, sure. I’m comforted by the fact too that you chop the way same way that you organize your closet.”

Suga laughed out loud at Oikawa’s words, his slightly mocking tone.

“Just shut up and press play.” Suga kept laughing, nudging Oikawa with his feet.

“The remote’s closer to you.”

“It’s definitely closer to you.” Suga countered.

“Do you see the remote?” Oikawa pointed towards it on the coffee table.” It’s closer to you.”

“It’s just as far from me as it is from you.”

“Then, why can’t you reach it?”

Suga sighed. “Fine.”

He placed his hand on the floor, hanging half off the couch, his legs still in Oikawa’s lap, to reach the remote.

“There.” Suga pressed play and dropped the remote between him and the couch cushions. “Happy?”

“Yes, thank you.” Oikawa smiled his dazzling smile. Suga really couldn’t hold anything against the man when he smiled like that.

 

...

 

Two hours later Oikawa was still sitting on the couch with Suga’s legs in his lap, watching X-files. He had lifted his own legs to rest them against the coffee table. He was absentmindedly playing with a loose thread hanging off of Suga’s pants.

When another episode started, Oikawa fell to lay on his side next to Suga, resting his head on his propped up hand, his legs still under Suga’s. “This is a boring episode.”

“Oh, good, so it’s not just me then.” Suga stated, sounding a little distracted.

“What?” Oikawa angled his head to see him.

“I was just thinking that this episode doesn’t really hold up with the others. I was a little worried about it until you basically agreed with me.” Suga explained, his eyes focused on the TV.

Oikawa turned back to the TV too. “We could get started on the dinner during this episode.” He suggested.

“We’ll have to stop watching soon anyway. When Kuroo and Tsukishima come, and others too I’m guessing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t think they’re really into this show, or aliens, conspiracy theories and weird monsters.”

“There’s just no guarantee of good taste in this building, is there?”

Suga laughed lightly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Oikawa shrugged, barely managing the motion in his current position. “I think I make up for the lack of it.”

“Sure, you do.” Suga nodded, exaggerating the serious expression.

“Stop teasing me.” Oikawa poked Suga’s side softly, making the man squirm further from him.

“Don’t make it so easy then.” Suga said with a happy smile, swatting Oikawa’s hand away when he tried to poke Suga again.

Their oncoming tickle war, banter, squabble, or whatever, was effectively interrupted when Kuroo came in.

“Whoa, nerd alert.” He raised his hands in front of him in a defensive move when he noticed what they were watching.

“Go away, Kuroo.” Oikawa told him immediately.

“Why? Are you offended that I think your favorite show is nerdy?”

“One, it’s not nerdy.” Oikawa said and sat up. “Two, it’s not my favorite show.”

“Um, correction.” Kuroo fixed Oikawa with a lecturing glare. “It’s definitely nerdy. And it’s definitely your favorite show.”

“Kuroo.  Stop antagonizing Oikawa.” Suga said, flinging his legs on the floor and getting up. “Oikawa. Stop rising up to it. Now, come on. We should start with the dinner.” He urged Oikawa to get up too.

“Maybe Kuroo should make it.” Oikawa suggested.

“I’m here to eat, not work.”

“You’re welcome then.” Oikawa remarked and went after Suga to the kitchen.

“I like X-files too.” Tsukishima spoke up.

Everyone turned to look at him with widened eyes.

Oikawa gasped and whirled to look at Tsukishima. “You’re not allowed to like my favorite show.” He pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Oikawa.” Suga chided him mildly. “Be nice.”

“He’s ruining my favorite show.” Oikawa whined a little to Suga. “And why are you looking so smug?” He asked from Kuroo.

“You called it your favorite show.” Kuroo smirked.

“Go away Kuroo.” Oikawa told him again.

“I’m pretty sure Tsukishima-san was being sarcastic.” Suga pointed out.

Oikawa looked at Tsukishima again and saw a little smug grin on his face too, matching the one on Kuroo’s perfectly.

“I hate you both.” He stated, meaning the words to Kuroo and Tsukishima. But neither looked too worried or offended as they seated themselves by the kitchen island.

“Suga, what’s with the snowflakes hanging in here?” Kuroo flicked one of them.

“I was bored.” Suga shrugged. “And Oikawa hates snow.”

Oikawa turned slowly to look at Suga and noticed the smirk on his lips as well. But when Suga turned his back to Kuroo and Tsukishima, his smile turned softer when he looked at Oikawa, assuring him that what he said was for them.

“Wow, you really can’t catch a break in this apartment, can you Oikawa?” Kuroo asked.

“You still have the option of leaving.” Oikawa told him.

“I’m fine where I am, thank you.” Kuroo kept smirking.

Oikawa fixed his eyes on Tsukishima, who had the sense to lean back in apprehension.

“Why him?” Oikawa gestured to Kuroo, asking the question from Tsukishima.

“I’m a little offended, Oikawa.” Kuroo said. “I’m an angel.” He brought his hand to his chest, trying to mimic a pose of a heavenly figure.

“Seriously? Why him?” Oikawa looked at Tsukishima again. “I mean, I don’t really like you, no offense, but I’m pretty sure you could do better.”

“I used to think so too.” Tsukishima admitted, fixing his glasses a little. “But he can be pretty charming when he wants to, so.”

“Guess he reserves that only for you then.” Oikawa mused.

Kuroo let out an indignant gasp that went unheard.

“Hey, um...” Suga spoke up, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Not that I mind that you’re bonding, but I was promised help with the cooking.”

“Sorry, Suga-chan.” Oikawa went to help him, glad that Tsukishima wasn’t being unbearable tonight. He really hadn’t been looking forward to Kuroo bringing him.

“You guys look really cute cooking together like that.” Kuroo pointed out after a while.

“You could help too.” Suga told him.

“I think we already established that I’m fine where I am.”

Oikawa picked up a soggy piece of lettuce and threw it at Kuroo who barely dodged, looking after where it landed.

“Ew.” He made a face.

“Is that anyway to greet your friend?” Bokuto asked, sauntering in as Oikawa turned back to cooking with a victorious smile.

“Bro!” Kuroo crowed excitedly and Bokuto high fived him.

“Great, you’re cooking.” Bokuto said when he noticed what Oikawa and Suga were doing. “Is there enough for me too?”

“Of course. You’re always welcome to join.” Suga smiled kindly.

“I thought you’d be with Akaashi.” Kuroo spoke to Bokuto.

“I would, but he’s sick and sleeping. I didn’t want to bother him.”

“Oh, too bad.” Kuroo said sympathetically. “It’s our gain though.” He smirked and pulled Bokuto into a one armed hug, leaning their heads together.

“Your bromance is rising to worrying levels of closeness.” Tsukishima said in a monotone, silently studying the two from his side-eye.

“Worried about something?” Oikawa asked with a sneer he swore was involuntary.

“No.” Tsukishima answered calmly and turned his sharp eyes to Oikawa. “Are you?”

Oikawa made room for Bokuto by the island when he moved closer to see what they were preparing before he answered Tsukishima. “What would I be worried about?”

“I don’t know.” Tsukishima shrugged with disinterest. “Maybe about Suga dating Yamaguchi.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t heard the name before. “Who’s Yamaguchi?”

“Yamaguchi is the new friend I made at the gallery I went to.” Suga answered, but his focus seemed to be on the chopping. 

“And you’re thinking of dating him?” Oikawa asked carefully, glancing at Suga, not liking the idea.

“No, of course not.” Suga said like it was obvious.

“What? Really?” Kuroo took interest in their conversation. Oikawa heard the surprise in his voice.

“Yes.” Suga said little uncertainly and turned to look at Kuroo. “Why?”

“No reason.” He feigned the unimportance and picked up a pair of chopsticks to play with.

And Oikawa was thoroughly lost on what was actually going on.

“Seriously Kuroo. Explain yourself.” Suga demanded.

“It’s nothing.” Kuroo insisted, but his voice betrayed him. “So, Akaashi is sick. How was your New Year other than that?” he asked from Bokuto, steering the conversation away from Yamaguchi, much to Oikawa’s dismay because he wanted to know more.

“It was good.” Bokuto smiled widely, but it quickly turned downwards. “But Akaashi was really distracted the whole time.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Suga comforted the man.

“Is that what you told yourself before Terushima broke up with you?” Kuroo asked.

The kitchen fell quiet in shock over Kuroo’s question.

“Kuroo.” Oikawa berated him, furtively glancing at Suga.

“What?” He asked looking from face to face. Even Tsukishima looked disapproving.

When the dense silence still lingered, Suga continued to comfort Bokuto, probably trying to ease the tension. “Akaashi is just probably stressing about finishing his studies.”

“Another phrase you kept repeating to yourself right before you were broken up with?” Kuroo asked, his voice hinting at teasing. It made Oikawa wonder if the man had been kidnapped and replaced with an alien impersonator walking in Kuroo’s skin. He had never witnessed Kuroo being this merciless. Was this some form of payback for all of the pranks that Suga had pulled on him? If it was, it was unnecessarily cruel.

“I think I’m done with dinner.” Suga dropped the knife he had been holding in to the sink and disappeared down the hallway.

“You’re an asshole Kuroo.” Oikawa told him at the same time when he heard Suga’s door close.

“What did I say that was so bad? It’s been two months since he broke up from Terushima. Is he still not over it?”

“He is. But that doesn’t mean that it’s okay to joke about him.” Oikawa rinsed and dried his hands. “I’ll go check that he’s okay.”

“You really are an asshole Kuroo.” Tsukishima stated.

Oikawa saw Bokuto take the chopsticks Kuroo had been playing with and throw them back at his head before he left kitchen. There was a satisfying sound of contact and an “ow” when the chopsticks hit Kuroo.

“Suga-chan?” He knocked on the door. He was sure that Suga was over Terushima. He had been fine, more than, after he had taken Terushima’s stuff back to him. But leaving all of a sudden like that because of Kuroo’s joke? Maybe something was still going on...

“I’m fine.” Suga’s answer came through the door. “You can go back.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.”

Oikawa wondered if Suga was telling the truth, or just saying that he was okay to make him go away and leave him alone.

Oikawa deliberated on what he should do. He could go back to the kitchen and continue with the dinner, or he could ignore Suga’s words.

He decided on the latter option and opened his door.  He had to make sure that he really was okay.  He _needed_ to see it.

Suga looked to the door when Oikawa opened it and stepped in. He was lying diagonally on his bed, his knees bent and hands resting on his stomach.

“I’m fine.” Suga said immediately, and every outward appearance would support his statement.

“Then why’d you leave so abruptly?”

Suga sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I know I’m acting like a melodramatic teenager right now, but I’m really not in the mood to make dinner anymore.” Suga’s voice was muffled by his hands.

“Suga-chan – “ Oikawa tried to ask again, because Suga didn’t answer his question.

“Really, I’m fine.” Suga interrupted, dropping his hands and looking straight at him. “Go enjoy dinner with others. I bet Bokuto’s already throttled Kuroo so there might be a mess, but I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Okay.” Oikawa verbally agreed, but in his mind he was more than just against the idea of leaving Suga alone. He closed Suga’s room door after him and went back to the kitchen.

Suga had been right, Oikawa thought when he saw Kuroo, who looked a little worse for wear since he had left the kitchen.

“Is Suga okay?” Kuroo asked, straightening his shirt, his hair more rumbled and disheveled than usually, standing by the island instead of sitting. Oikawa speculated if Bokuto or Tsukishima had pushed or pulled him down.

“He says he’s fine.” Oikawa told him, even though he didn’t believe Suga. “You’re still an asshole.”

“I know.” Kuroo admitted, hanging his head a little for a second before he dodged a cut green bean. “I should probably apologize.”

“He wants to be alone for now.” Oikawa said. “You can apologize later.”

“Okay. I will.” Kuroo nodded, his head bowing down before he looked up cautiously. “Is Suga still hung up on Terushima?” he asked, the words coming out slowly.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head. “But I still wouldn’t joke about the guy who broke his heart or about the events that lead to it.”

“Yeah, no I got it.”

“Plus, I don’t think it was nice that you implied that Akaashi is about to break up with Bokuto.”

“I know. Why do you think Bokuto was trying to tear me in two?”

Oikawa smiled proudly at Bokuto. “Good for you.”

Bokuto beamed and continued with what little was still left on the cutting board, throwing the pieced vegetables at Kuroo. Tsukishima kept silently eyeing them, especially Kuroo who was trying to shield himself from the food that was staining his clothes and getting stuck in his hair.  

“You’re dating an idiot.” Oikawa told Tsukishima when he leaned on the island across from him.

“I know.” Tsukishima agreed. At least over this, they could agree on, but it was the one of the rare things they could ungrudgingly see eye to eye on. 

“We should probably order in something.” Oikawa pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his favorite restaurant’s number.

While they waited for the food to arrive, Oikawa and Tsukishima watched the “entertainment” unfold in the dining area, as Bokuto and Kuroo had they own little food fight. Oikawa was beyond glad that it was only pieces of vegetables, nothing that was hard to clean up later.

“Can you tell me about this Yamaguchi?” Oikawa dared to ask, when their food took forever and the food fight seemed never-ending. He didn’t like that he had to ask from Tsukishima, but he seemed to be the only source of information on this matter at the moment.

“So you are worried.” Tsukishima stated, not looking up from the food fight that was going on only a meter away from him.

“I’d just like to know more. What’s the deal there?”

Tsukishima glanced at him, looking bored, but he cleared his throat.

“It’s not a big deal. Yamaguchi just keeps talking about Suga and his art.”

“Even before New Year?”

“For a couple of years now. I never thought much about it. He’s shy and would never approach anyone. It was a surprise when Suga said he’d met him.”

“Do you really think he’s into Suga?”

“Maybe, who knows?” Tsukishima shrugged, nonplussed by his friend’s possible crush.

Oikawa wished he could be as casual about this information. He wished he’d gotten a more definitive answer. But his further inquiries had to be put on hold when his phone buzzed. Their food had finally arrived.

“I’ll be right back.” He informed Tsukishima and stepped over Bokuto and Kuroo’s bodies when he left the kitchen. “See if you can make them stop throwing the food.”

“I’m not their father.”

“But you’re eating for free tonight.” Oikawa pointed out, putting his shoes on.

Tsukishima turned to the men lying on the floor. “Kuroo, if you don’t stop in two seconds, I’m leaving you.”

Kuroo scrambled up immediately. “I’m done now.”

Oikawa smiled a little in amazement of how Tsukishima had Kuroo twisted around his little finger.

 

...

 

Everyone left soon after they had eaten. Kuroo and Tsukishima had “plans” and Bokuto went back to take care of Akaashi.

It left Oikawa alone in the quiet kitchen, surrounded by the snowflakes. He couldn’t help the small smile when he looked at them, followed their gentle swaying with his eyes while he was sipping tea by the kitchen island.  

He was still yet to come up with something for Suga in exchange, and was trying to figure out good gifts when he heard a door open.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked when Suga came to the kitchen. The man looked a little sleepy and Oikawa wondered if he had taken a really late nap.

“I’m fine.” Suga smiled. Oikawa was relieved that it wasn’t fake but a one hundred percent genuine Suga –smile that made everything around him glow.

“I put your food in the fridge in case you got hungry.” Oikawa told him.

“Thank you.” Suga ran his hand down Oikawa’s back along with his words when he walked by him to the fridge. It sent shivers down his spine. “Sorry for leaving earlier.”

“It’s fine. I understand.” Oikawa assured. “Kuroo and Bokuto were using the food we had already prepared to throw at each other so we ordered in.”

“Is it spicy?” Suga asked peering into the carton he had in his hand.

“Of course, Suga-chan.”

“Thank you.” Suga smiled brightly and went to heat his food.

“Not to make you feel uncomfortable –” Oikawa started.

“Then don’t.” Suga interrupted him, punctuating his words by closing the microwave door.

Oikawa smiled a little, but he needed to know and continued, “But, I have to ask.”

Suga came to stand across from him and leaned to the kitchen island on his arms with his hands clasped together, waiting.

“If Yamaguchi does ask you out, are you going to say yes?”

“I don’t think he’s going to.” Suga answered evenly. “And even if he did, I’d say no.”

“Oh.” Relief surged through Oikawa’s body, surprising him. He didn’t think he cared that much if Suga would date this Yamaguchi. “How come?” he asked and sipped his tea.

“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone yet.” Suga answered and straightened away to get his food from the microwave when it stopped whirring.

“Oh.” Oikawa said again.

“I just had my heart broken for the first time ever and I don’t think it has healed yet.” Suga continued, looking down at his food and mixing it with chopsticks, when he came to sit next to Oikawa.

“Hypothetical question then: if you were ready, would you date Yamaguchi?”

“Why do you care?” Suga looked genuinely intrigued and Oikawa had to admit that he liked that.

“It’s just a question.”

“Hmm...” Suga thought, studying Oikawa, and stuffed his mouth full of food. “Probably not.” He answered after he swallowed.

“How come?”

“Oikawa...” Suga tilted his head to the side with annoyance in his voice.

“Just answer the question.”

Suga took a deep breath and let it out in a short gust. “He’s cute, with the little ponytail he has, sure, but... I don’t know.” Suga shrugged. “He’s a bit too sweet and adorable.”

“And that’s not your thing?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Suga asked with a sweet smile, and how could Oikawa refuse him when he looked like that.

“Sure.” he nodded and sipped his tea again. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Kuroo told me he met Tsukishima’s family during the New Year.” Suga introduced the new topic.

He sounded happy. It was sweet how he was always happy for his friends and for whatever positive thing happened in their lives.

“I know, he told me.”

“Remember to call my mother about it.”

“I already texted her.” Oikawa admitted. “I’ve never seen so many exclamation points in one text before.”

Suga laughed softly, the sound lighter than usual.

“She also sent follow up questions that she wants me to ask from Kuroo.” Oikawa added. “And I’m not that comfortable with asking them all.”

“Sex thing?” Suga asked, wiping a stray drop of sauce from the corner of his mouth.

“Yep.” Oikawa nodded gravely. “She wants to know if they –“

“I don’t want to know what she wants to know.” Suga covered one ear with his free hand.

Oikawa chuckled.

“But mainly the questions were about their future.” He said evenly, and finished his tea.

“I give them six months.” Suga sighed and leaned his cheek to his hand, his gaze fixed faraway in the snowflakes.

“For?”

“Until they move in together.”

“Six months? That long? You do realize how whipped Kuroo is in that relationship?”

“Yes.” Suga smiled. “It’s adorable. I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with Tsukishima.”

“You’re happy for him.” Oikawa stated, smiling with affection for his roommate.

“Of course I am. I’m happy for all my friends when they’re happy.” Suga’s smile was radiant and Oikawa breathed deep, steadying the fizzy feeling coursing inside him.

“Suga-chan...” he started, but didn’t know how to end the sentence. He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, but it didn’t seem that he needed to.

Suga put his chopsticks down and wrapped his arms around Oikawa, fitting himself right against his side. Somehow, it was exactly what he wanted, needed, missed.

“I’m happy for you too.” he spoke softly.

“Why?”

“I don’t know what happened between you and Kageyama because you didn’t see him for a while, but I’m glad that you’re seeing him again.”

Oikawa sighed and pulled away from Suga.

“Thanks.” he smiled weakly. “I think I’ll study a bit more before I go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Suga nodded. “Goodnight.”

“You too.” Oikawa flashed a wide smile to hide his disappointment when he put his cup into the sink.

_If Suga just hadn’t mentioned Kageyama,_ Oikawa thought when he walked down the hallway. Not that he minded thinking about Kageyama, per se. It’s just that Suga and Kageyama couldn’t simultaneously exist in his mind.

In his room, he dug up his laptop and books and dived back into his dissertation.

It was a welcome distraction and Oikawa managed to forget the small moment of affection he had experienced earlier.

 

...

 

Days were going by fast and school break was over too quickly. Oikawa was sure he had spent more time studying and writing his dissertation than he ever had.

Suga had been amazing during the week. He had kept their neighbors out or from making too much noise if they did come over so they didn’t distract or bother Oikawa. And he had been there to keep him from burning out, making sure he ate, drank water, moved around now and then, and rested. But other than that, he had left Oikawa alone. The man truly was heaven-sent at times.

And that angel was the reason Oikawa was sitting on a couch in the living room, leaning his elbows on his knees and massaging his temples, trying to unwind from sitting in one position too long, when his phone beeped with an incoming message.

 

_can we meet at your place on weekend?_

 

Oikawa read the message and bit his lip. He both wanted and didn’t want to see Kageyama. But at his home? Where Suga might be?

“Suga-chan?” Oikawa called for him.

“Yeah?” Suga answered from the kitchen where he was already making dinner. Oikawa was forbidden from helping until Suga had chopped whatever needed to be chopped, the discussion about his chopping skills from a week ago still fresh in their minds. But Suga had already done more than just chopping, if the sound of something sizzling and bubbling was any indicator.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

“Not really.” Suga’s voice came closer and Oikawa glanced over his shoulder to see Suga standing behind the couch. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Oikawa explained vaguely.

Suga crossed his arms and leaned them to the back of the couch next to Oikawa. “Do you want to do something?”

Oikawa turned on the couch so he didn’t have to twist his neck to look at Suga. “I might have other plans.” He admitted carefully, pressing his phone screen down against his thigh.

“If you want the apartment to be empty, just say so.” Suga said with a kind smile. He must have figured out why Oikawa was asking. “I can go to Daichi’s. Apparently Iwaizumi’s working this weekend and Daichi asked if I wanted to come over for a marathon.”

“What marathon?”

“Undecided.” Suga smiled wider. “I haven’t agreed to go yet, but I can. I haven’t seen him for a while.”

“Are you sure?” Oikawa asked, studying Suga’s expression, his easy smile. “I don’t want to exile you.”

Suga laughed lightly. “You’re not exiling me. I’m happy to go.” He added and straightened up.

“Okay.” Oikawa nodded and watched Suga go back to the kitchen. “Thank you Suga-chan.”

“No problem.” Suga waved his hand dismissively.

Oikawa was a little disappointed that Suga was so ready and eager to leave the apartment. He was sure that Suga knew what he had meant with his vague mention of “plans”. He couldn’t explain why, but he wanted Suga to be at least a little against the idea that he would be bringing Kageyama. He wanted it to bother Suga, not have him be okay with it with a kind smile.

 

_my place is fine_

 

He texted to Kageyama and looked at Suga again, through the snowflakes. He was smiling while he was cooking, from the looks of it to at least ten people. The sight was almost painfully domestic with the delicious smells and familiar sounds, and Oikawa felt regret agreeing to see Kageyama.

He could always cancel his plans later if he felt like it.

 

...

 

But of course he didn’t.

“What’s with all these snowflakes?” Kageyama asked, walking among them as he looked around the apartment much the same way he had done the first time he had visited.

“Just winter decoration my roommate put up.” Oikawa hid his vague answer behind his charming smile. Kageyama didn’t need to know that it was a gift specifically made for him by Suga.

“Is your roommate out again?” Kageyama asked, fixing his almost piercing blue eyes on Oikawa.

“Yes. He has plans with his friend.”

“Hmm...”

“What?”

“Just wondering if I’m ever going to meet him.” Kageyama stopped by the kitchen island across from him and nonchalantly leaned on it with his hands.

“All in good time, Tobio-chan.” Oikawa smiled with a sly look in his eyes. Although, if Oikawa could arrange it somehow, he would make sure that the two never met.

“So you didn’t get rid of him because I was coming?”

Oikawa leaned his elbows on the kitchen island and his chin on his hand. “Why would I do that?”

“Maybe because you don’t want me to meet him?”

“Why wouldn’t I want you to meet him?” Oikawa turned the question on him so he didn’t have to try to explain, or worse yet, lie.

“I don’t know.” Kageyama shrugged, but Oikawa got the distinct feel from his tone that he did know.

“Are you worried about something?” Oikawa straightened and moved closer to Kageyama. “I told you, you’re the only guy I’m sleeping with.”

“That doesn’t mean that there isn’t something going on with this roommate of yours.”

“He’s just that. A roommate.” Oikawa stressed. At least as far as Kageyama needed to know, Suga was _just a roommate._ “There’s nothing going on.”

“And yet you never say his name when you mention him.”

Oikawa thought for a moment if that was true.

“Why are you so worried about this?” He asked, just to turn the questions on Kageyama again.

“Because we didn’t see each other for weeks.”

“Tobio-chan, we aren’t dating.” Oikawa reminded him. “And I explained that I was busy with school and my dissertation. I’m still a little behind on my schedule.”

“I know, I know.” Kageyama looked away, the hard look still set in.

It might not have been the whole truth, but...

“I’m telling you the truth. If you don’t want to believe me, maybe you should go.”

“No, I... I believe you.” Kageyama looked into his eyes to say. “It’s just weird that you keep referring to your roommate as “roommate”.”

“Take it or leave it.” Oikawa stated confidently. He really didn’t want to keep talking about this. The more Kageyama mentioned Suga, the more Oikawa thought about him and he didn’t want to do that again. He wasn’t going to think about Suga when Kageyama was standing right in front of him. Not this time. Especially since last time he was with Kageyama, his thoughts had strayed to Suga with every other sentence, wondering what Suga was doing, how he was doing.

“I’ll take it.” Kageyama answered, placed his hands on Oikawa’s cheeks and kissed him, thoroughly surprising him.

Oikawa hadn’t been planning for this when he had agreed to meet with Kageyama again. He really hadn’t. But he had nothing against it and went with Kageyama’s forwardness. He didn’t think there was any harm with getting this satisfaction. There wasn’t anything wrong with some casual sex. Especially since Suga wasn’t home, but hanging with Daichi.

So, Oikawa let him in for a second, brushing his tongue inside Kageyama’s mouth before he pulled away, remembering something important.

“I have to lock the door.” He stepped away from Kageyama to do just that.

“Why wasn’t it already locked?” Kageyama asked, already sounding a little out of breath.

“Just a habit.” Oikawa shrugged when he came back and took hold on Kageyama’s wrist and started to pull him towards his bedroom.

“You leave your front door open for anyone to walk in? Isn’t that unsafe?”

“Not in this building.” Oikawa answered and closed his room door.

“What are you so worried about then? Locking and closing all the doors.”

“Nothing.” Oikawa lied and raised his chin higher to look down to Kageyama. “Haven’t you heard of privacy?”

“Yes, but this is ranging onto paranoid levels of privacy.”

Oikawa found it funny how Kageyama thought he was paranoid, when the man was the one who had been doubtful about his friendship with Suga.

“Take your clothes off.” He told Kageyama with a small smirk, walked by him pulling his own shirt off and lying down on his bed to watch.

“Really? That’s all? Just “take your clothes off”?” Kageyama asked, dropping every piece of clothing he took off on the floor as he slowly walked to the bed as well.

Oikawa counted two visible moles on Kageyama’s body and wondered how many Suga had on his.

“What do you want? Dirty talk?”

“Yes.” Kageyama answered confidently, crawling on all fours closer to him.

“I think my mouth is going to be too busy for that.” Oikawa said and pulled Kageyama against him and rolled them over.

Oikawa knew that Suga would’ve had a witty comeback for that, but Kageyama looked too stunned by his words to say anything.  

He missed Suga.

 

...

 

“How’s living with Oikawa?”

“It’s good. Fun.” Suga smiled, sipping his tea.

It had been a huge relief for Daichi to see Suga smile freely at Kuroo’s birthday party from time to time, and it had been an even bigger relief to hear him laugh when his mother had been visiting.

Daichi had a feeling that that was in big part thanks to Oikawa.

“Is he still seeing the guy?”

“Yes.” Suga nodded. “I think he had plans with him tonight.”

Daichi watched Suga’s smile lessen.

“Are you disappointed?”

Suga looked up quickly. “No. Why would I be?”

“I don’t know.” Daichi shrugged.

But there had been moments at Akiko’s somewhat impromptu dinner when Suga and Oikawa had been close to each other and looking very comfortable. There had been times around Christmas when Daichi and Iwaizumi had glanced at each other every now and them when Suga and Oikawa had interacted in a very familiar manner.

He sometimes wondered if... If Suga and Terushima’s break up had brought Suga and Oikawa closer? There had been the hair caressing and the leaning into one another. He wondered how much of it was instinctive and how much they decided to consciously do.

“There must’ve been a reason for you to ask.” Suga pointed out.

And he was right. There was a reason, but if Suga wasn’t aware of it himself, should Daichi tell him?

“I was just wondering, since your break up, has your crush on Oikawa come back?” Daichi walked on the thin line, testing the waters to know how purposeful Suga’s behavior around Oikawa was.

“No.”

“No?”

Suga shrugged. “He’s just... Oikawa.”

“Hmm...” Daichi wondered how truthful Suga’s words were.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Daichi shook his head with an reassuring smile. He desperately wanted to believe his best friend. But how was it possible for the two of them to look so familiar with the comforting, so comfortable with the touching?

Sure, Suga wasn’t exactly stingy when it came to physical contact with others and would rush to hug anyone who looked even a little like they needed it. And Oikawa was excellent at reading social cues and would pick up in a heartbeat how much Suga needed the comfort at times. But still... Maybe it was more than just friends casually being there for each other.

“Daichi?”

Daichi turned his focus back to Suga.

“Are you still with me?” Suga was carefully watching him.

“Yeah, sorry. I just got lost in my thoughts.” Daichi explained.

“What were you thinking about so intently?”

“Just work stuff.”

“You know that I hate when you lie to me.” Suga sounded disappointed, his smile gone.

“Sorry.” Daichi smiled apologetically. He did know that Suga hated it, and he was one of the two people who could tell when he was lying. “I was thinking about you and Oikawa.”

“Why?” Suga looked genuinely intrigued to know about his thought process.

Daichi sighed. He might as well come out with it.

“If you’d seen yourself with Oikawa these past weeks, you’d be wondering about you two too.” Daichi explained, holding the steady eye contact.

“Why does it sound like a “we” when you’re talking about me and Oikawa? Like we’re an item? A... A couple?”

“Because that’s how you’re starting to look like.”

“Oh?” Suga looked surprised and leaned back on the couch.

“It’s not a bad thing.” Daichi was quick to assure him. It really wasn’t. Just a little surprising.

Or was it? Surprising? Daichi wasn’t sure anymore. It seemed the most natural thing, both in the most ordinary and in the most abnormal way, for Suga and Oikawa to be _a couple._

He looked at Suga worrying his bottom lip, sunk in thought.

“Don’t worry about it Suga. It’s really not a bad thing, I promise.”

“But it was enough to prompt you to ask about it.”

“Suga.” Daichi waited until Suga looked back into his eyes before he continued. “It’s okay if you like him. But you should be honest about it to yourself, and to Oikawa.”

“But that’s just the thing.” Suga said seriously. “I’m not so sure that I _like_ him. He’s just been there. He’s been comfort.”

“Then forget I said anything.” Daichi said quickly. The last thing he wanted was for Suga to anguish over thinking about this.

But the thoughtful look lingered on Suga’s face, eyes cast down and teeth still worrying his lip.

Daichi regretted saying anything to Suga and scooted closer to him and started to stroke his hair.

“Did you tell him about this?” Suga asked after a while.

Daichi wasn’t sure what Suga meant and he explained without a prompt to.

“That I like hair caressing?”

“No.” Daichi kept lightly combing his fingers through Suga’s hair. “He does it a lot, doesn’t he?”

Suga nodded.

“It’s nice.” He added softly.

“Is it nicer when Oikawa does it than when I do it?” Daichi asked.

Suga closed his eyes. “Yes.”

Daichi chuckled softly.

“His touch is softer.” Suga described in a quiet voice, like he was afraid that anyone would hear his confession. “And he has longer fingers.”

“Does that mean that I like him?” Suga peered at him cautiously.

“Only you know the answer to that.” Daichi said and stopped caressing. “Only you know yourself.”

“But I don’t know.” Suga insisted. “I just... I don’t know.” He slumped a little lower on the couch, just as the front door opened.

“I’m home.” Iwaizumi called.

Daichi looked towards the front door in surprise. He thought Iwaizumi was going to be at work the whole weekend.

“How come you’re home already?”

Iwaizumi didn’t answer straight away, but dropped down on the small couch, barely fitting between Daichi and the armrest, and buried his face against Daichi’s shoulder.

Daichi smiled softly and draped his arm around his boyfriend.

“Can I quit my job and stay at home so I don’t have to deal with people?” Iwaizumi asked.

“That bad, huh?”

Iwaizumi answered with a growl that reminded Daichi of a bear.

“I’m going to go, Daichi.” Suga spoke up quietly.

Daichi looked to him surprise. “Why?”

“Because right now, he needs you more than I do.” Suga smiled kindly and got up. 

“You don’t have to go.”

“I know, but I’m being your best friend now and I’m going to go.” Suga kept speaking softly, his smile soothing Daichi’s shame that he forgot that Suga was there when Iwaizumi came home.

“We’ll hang more some other time.” Suga promised. It eased Daichi’s bad feeling a little.

“Alright.”

“Feel better Iwaizumi.” Suga patted his shoulder when he walked past them.

“Thank you Suga.” Iwaizumi said against Daichi’s shoulder.

“Bye.” Suga waved from the front door and closed it softly after him.

“So, work was bad?” Daichi asked and changed his position little, giving Iwaizumi more room on the couch.

“Yes, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What do you want to talk about then?”

“Nothing.” Iwaizumi answered and lifted his head up. “Did you ask Suga about Oikawa?”

“Yes.” Daichi nodded. “Suga has even less comprehension than me when it comes to him and Oikawa and whatever is and isn’t going on there.”

“I guess I have to talk to Oikawa then.” Iwaizumi sighed. “It’s clear that he really likes Suga and I don’t want him to get heartbroken over this whole thing if it so happens, that Suga doesn’t respond to his feelings.”

“I know.” Daichi kissed Iwaizumi’s forehead. “It can wait for now, can’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then, since you don’t want to talk about work and you basically just drove Suga out, do you want to do something else?” Daichi suggested with a cock of an eyebrow. The deal of Suga and Oikawa could be resolved later. What Iwaizumi seemed to really need now was a distraction, and comfort and love.

Iwaizumi didn’t spare a second for thinking it over, but stood up and pulled Daichi with him to the bedroom.

 

...

 

Suga was walking home earlier than he had expected to, even though it was already a late evening, and he wondered if Kageyama was still at the apartment with Oikawa.

It would be the first time for Suga to be at home at the same time that Oikawa had someone over. It made him feel a little uneasy, like something about it just didn’t sit right in the universe. It would also be the first time that he would meet Kageyama – the ever-elusive man that Oikawa never spoke about but clearly enjoyed spending time with.

Maybe he shouldn’t go home yet. He had promised Oikawa an empty apartment. But where else could he go to?

Asahi wasn’t home yet. He had called Suga two days ago to inform him that he’d be staying a bit longer at his parents because he had fallen ill and wanted to make sure that Suga would still continue watering his plants. Of course Suga had been happy to keep drowning the plants.

He had the key to Asahi’s apartment though, and could go there if he wanted to. But spending time there without Asahi filled Suga with uneasiness and he knew he had to figure out another place to go to.  

Akaashi wasn’t sick anymore, but Bokuto was. He had gotten the flu from taking care of Akaashi so diligently.

Suga knew that Kuroo had plans with Tsukishima.

Tanaka would be at work, and so would Nishinoya.

Yaku had a night shift at the hospital.

Kenma and Hinata probably were home, but Suga didn’t feel like imposing on them, even though they never harbored such thoughts whenever they came over to Suga’s apartment.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa? Suga had no idea if they would be home. He hadn’t really gotten to know them that well yet and wasn’t sure if he could just drop by them.

Suga sighed when he ran out of his options.

Guess he was going home then.

He hoped that Oikawa wouldn’t mind and made a detour to a random coffee shop on his way to buy more time.

 

...

 

“I’m home!” Suga announced when he opened the door. He had taken the precaution of loudly jingling his keys outside the door, just in case Oikawa was having sex with Kageyama in the living room, or kitchen, wanting to give them a heads up.

He had texted Oikawa earlier, asking if he minded that he was already coming home, but it had gone unanswered.

Suga really hoped he didn’t end up interrupting anything.

“You’re back early.” Oikawa remarked, appearing out of nowhere while Suga was taking his shoes off.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I texted you.” Suga apologized.

“Is something wrong?” Oikawa asked, his eyes sharp as they studied Suga.

“Everything’s fine. Iwaizumi came home early too and he looked like he wanted to be alone with Daichi...” Suga trailed off. “Is Kageyama still here? I can leave if you want to. I’ll just grab my laptop and camera.”

“No, it’s fine.” Oikawa assured, but his expression was a mix that puzzled Suga. It wasn’t alarmed or anxious, but intense...? No. Suga couldn’t name it, but it was an unusual look on Oikawa.

“Are you sure?”

Oikawa nodded once, but the expression lingered on his face, making Suga apprehensive. He shouldn’t have come home yet.

He was just about to make up an excuse to leave anyway, no matter how much Oikawa would insist that he could stay, when a man walked into the living room. Suga took in the hard look pointed to him, the piercing blue of his eyes holding him in place.

“Suga, this is Kageyama Tobio.” Oikawa introduced the man when he followed Suga’s line of sight.

Suga glanced at Oikawa and smiled at Kageyama. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Kageyama nodded in greeting before he sat down on one of the couches.

“I think I’m going to go.” Suga said then.

“You really don’t have to.” Oikawa said and went to the kitchen.

Suga followed him because there was just something about his behavior, expression and tone of voice that bothered him.

“But I feel like I’m intruding.” Suga admitted quietly, glancing at Kageyama.

“Don’t worry about Kageyama.” Oikawa whispered back. “He always looks a little displeased.”

“Oh.”

Suga looked at the man on the couch again with more evaluative eyes. Was that Oikawa’s type? Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly free with his smiles either.

“You can stay Suga-chan.” Oikawa stressed the words and the indescribable expression on his face was fading away.  “You can hang with us.”

Suga noticed Kageyama quickly look at them at the sound of the endearment. He got the feeling that his presence wouldn’t be all that welcome in Kageyama’s opinion. No matter how much he wanted to know more about the guy Oikawa was seeing, learn more about him, it should probably wait for another time.

“No, that’s...” Suga searched for the right words. “I think I’ll just be in my room.”

“You don’t have to hide.”

“I know. I’m not hiding.” Suga smiled to assure Oikawa that he most certainly wasn’t thinking of hiding when he said he’d be in his room. “I have a couple of books I’ve been waiting to read.”

“Okay, well, the invitation stands.”

“Thanks.” Suga said and turned towards the living room fully. “It was nice to sort of meet you Kageyama-san.”

“You’re not staying?” Kageyama asked, his posture changing so he looked more intrigued.

“No.” Suga smiled a little.

“Oh.”

Suga could’ve sworn that the man looked a little disappointed.

“It was nice to sort of meet you too.” Kageyama nodded, while his eyes were bouncing between Suga and Oikawa.

“I’ll leave you two alone then.” Suga first said to Kageyama and then to Oikawa.

He could feel eyes on his back as he walked away from the kitchen and down the hallway. He wasn’t sure whose they were, but the weight of it didn’t go away when he closed his room door.

There was an uneasy feeling rolling inside him when he thought about Oikawa with Kageyama in their living room. He didn’t dare to think further on how they were probably sitting on the same couch, or how they talked over whatever they were watching, in case it’d make him feel worse.

He did pick up a book and curled in his armchair. It was a comforting place to sit – it was worn in certain places, and soft in just the right ones, from frequent use. But this time it didn’t help take Suga’s mind off the two men in the living room. He was lulled by the continued silence in the apartment. Whatever Oikawa and Kageyama were doing, they were being really quiet and his thoughts kept straying back to them, wondering what they were.

When he had read the same page two or three times without remembering it, he realized that trying to read was a wasted effort. He decided to give up on the book and went to bed. It might’ve been the late hour that caused Suga to fall asleep almost immediately. He still kept waking up early in the mornings.  

 

...

 

Suga could see snow falling outside his window when he woke up, the snowflakes illuminated by the light of the streetlamps in the early morning darkness.  

It was barely six o’clock on a Sunday morning. What Suga wouldn’t give just so he could sleep in again?

He could’ve stayed in bed, turned to his other side and try and fall asleep again. He probably could succeed in it too, if he fell into his daydreams.

But it was snowing. And Suga loved snow.

For most people it was rain. For him it was snow that made him want to wrap into a blanket by a window and watch it fall while drinking something warm.

He kicked off the covers and sat up, listening to any possible sounds. Since he didn’t hear any, he took great care of moving quietly when he went from his room to the kitchen and started to make tea. He remembered how quiet it had been in the apartment last night and he wondered if Kageyama had spent the night.

Snow was still falling as Suga watched the city wake up slowly, the morning bringing more and more light through the clouds. He wondered if anyone else in the world was doing what he was doing right that second. He wondered if anyone else was feeling just as confused as he was.

Daichi’s words yesterday were stuck on a loop in his head. _If you’d seen yourself with Oikawa these past weeks, you’d be wondering about you two too._

What was there to wonder?  And how had they looked?

They had grown close with each other, that was true. Oikawa was quick to comfort him, his fingers easily slipping into Suga’s hair. And Oikawa kept leaning into him often. Did they really look like a couple doing that?

As far as Suga thought, they were friends. And he was always physical with his friends, hugging and showing his care and affection for them.

But according to Daichi there might be more going on. Suga just wasn’t sure if he agreed with him. _Only you know yourself._

Suga was pulled from his thoughts when the front door opened. He didn’t remember leaving it open when he came home. It had definitely been locked when he opened it with his keys. Had Oikawa opened it later? He checked the time on the microwave and he knew it could only be Hinata.

“Hey Suga.” The orange haired man greeted him with a bright smile.

“Morning.” Suga smiled back. “Here for coffee again?”

“No, we’re both here.” Hinata answered and Kenma emerged into Suga’s view too.

Suga’s smile turned soft when he realized what that meant. “For breakfast?”

They both nodded, waiting, standing by the kitchen island.

“Go for it.” Suga gestured towards the fridge. Every now and then the two would forget to restock their kitchen with food and Suga was more than happy to let them eat as much as they wanted from his kitchen.

“We might need to eat lunch here too.” Hinata added, his eyes cast down to the floor.

“That’s fine. Just, remember to be quiet.” Suga said and pulled the blanket wrapped around him tighter. “Oikawa had a friend over.”

“The guy he’s been seeing?” Kenma asked, putting the coffee maker on while Hinata was fixing them something to eat.

“Mm-hm.” Suga nodded.

“Is that why you’re up so early?” Kenma asked. His eyes had a sharp focus in them and Suga wondered how far into his mind he could read right then.

“No. I still keep waking up early.” Suga answered vaguely, but he knew that they would get what he was referring to.

“Have you tried turning to your other side?” Hinata asked. “I always do that when I wake up early and want to fall back asleep. Or when I just can’t sleep. Sometimes I might turn on to my stomach too and then back to lie on my back, trying to find the perfect position to fall asleep in. Kenma sometimes kicks me when I’m moving around too much, and then I try to lie still and fall asleep, but it never works and I have to try at least one more position.”

Suga smiled at Hinata’s quick and long description.

“You should try that.” Hinata finished.

“Or just closing your eyes again since you’re not as hyper energetic as Shouyou.” Kenma suggested.

“I’ve tried it all, doesn’t work.” Suga told them and got up to get more tea.

“Well, maybe in time it will.” Hinata shrugged, confident in his words. Suga hoped he was right.

“So, what plans do you have for today?” he asked, changing the subject. He had just been wondering on what was going on between him and Oikawa and now he had been thrown into another loop by the hint about Terushima he had given himself.

“Kuroo’s team is playing a home game today.” Kenma answered, seating himself next to Hinata by the island, holding two coffee cups.

“Do you want to come too?” Hinata asked.

“No, I can’t.” Suga leaned on the island across from them with his newly filled cup of tea. “Kuroo still has me banished from his games.”

“Still? Hasn’t it already been three years?”

“Four.” Suga corrected.

“What’s been four years?” Oikawa asked, surprising them all with his presence.

“Where did you come from?” Suga asked, looking around the kitchen. “I didn’t hear your door open.”

“It takes special skill to move like a ninja.” Oikawa raised his eyebrows once quickly with a grin before he turned to pour himself coffee.

Suga rolled his eyes at Hinata, who was snickering, and Kenma, who was mildly smiling.

“So, what’s been four years?” Oikawa asked again, his back turned towards the others in the kitchen. 

“Since the last time I saw Kuroo’s game.” Suga answered, watching Oikawa sweeten his coffee.

“Why don’t you go then?”

“Kuroo has forbidden me to.”

Oikawa leveled Suga with a chiding look. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Suga answered innocently, feigning ignorance about his own actions.

Oikawa looked to Kenma and Hinata, waiting for them to answer.

“He heckled during Kuroo’s serve.” Kenma answered.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Oikawa said looking from one to another around the island, clearly waiting for more on the story.

“It was the opposing team’s set point.” Kenma described quietly. “And Kuroo served straight to the net. Losing the game.”

Oikawa sputtered with laughter and quickly covered his mouth with his hand. “What did Suga yell?” He asked once his laughter died away and he lowered his hand.

“I don’t remember.” Kenma said and Hinata was shaking his head too, just as clueless.

But Suga remembered, not that he‘d admit it.

“What did you yell Suga-chan?” Oikawa turned to him, softly poking on his side again.

Suga moved away from his reach. “I don’t remember either. It was years ago.”

“You remember.” Oikawa stated confidently with a wide mischievous smile.

“I really don’t.” Suga insisted.

“I’ll ask Kuroo then.”

“He doesn’t remember either.” Kenma said, speaking the truth. The last time Suga had asked if he could go see a game, Kuroo had said no, having to admit that he didn’t remember why, but still being absolutely certain that Suga couldn’t go.

“Instead of talking about what I might have said in one game years ago, I want to know how was your last night.” Suga moved back to lean on the island, next to Oikawa.

“It was fine.” Oikawa answered vaguely.

“I hope I didn’t ruin anything by coming home early.”

“You didn’t. Don’t worry.” Oikawa assured him with a smile. Suga wasn’t sure how to take that smile, how to interpret it. 

“Are you talking about the guy Oikawa is seeing?” Hinata looked interested.

“Yes.” Oikawa and Suga answered simultaneously.

“What’s he like?” Hinata inquired.

“Still sleeping.” Oikawa sipped his coffee, just as they heard the creak of Oikawa’s room door.

“Really?” Suga smirked.

“Look, we’re not dating so don’t make this a big deal.” Oikawa said quickly to everyone when they could hear footsteps nearing the kitchen.

“Do you want us to hide or something?” Kenma asked, looking a lot more disinterested than Hinata who snickered.

“No.” Oikawa said with slight exasperation.

Suga thought the suggestion was actually kind of amusing too.

Two seconds later he saw Kageyama enter the kitchen and stop in shock.

“Shouyou?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taps fingertips together, planning evil things, not even a little sorry about the cliffhanger*
> 
>  
> 
> [ *hides behind a volleyball net* ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com)


	20. Chapter 20

 

Everyone turned to look at Kageyama - who looked beyond shocked with his stricken eyes and gaping mouth, like the life had been punched out of him.

”You two know each other?” Oikawa looked between Kageyama and Hinata, looking mildly surprised by this.

“Um...” Hinata shifted like he was uncomfortable and Kenma’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. It was almost a defensive move with the way he leaned forward a bit, his eyes glued on Kageyama.

“I have to go.” Kageyama said quickly, snapping back to the uncomfortable moment, and bolted out of the apartment. He didn’t even stop to put his jacket or shoes on but grabbed them in haste, knocking down other jackets and loudly banging a body part against a door or a wall.

“What’s going on?” Suga asked when the door was closed with a bang, looking from one face to another.

“Oikawa?” Suga turned to ask from him, but he didn’t seem to have any clue what was going on either.

“Hinata?” Suga asked then, but he looked unable to form any words or sentences, his eyes fixed on the spot where Kageyama had been standing.

“Kenma?” Suga turned to the last straw, but he was focused on Hinata.

“Seriously, I’m starting to get really worried.”  

“Sorry, Suga.” Hinata spoke uncharacteristically quietly. He raised his head slowly to look at Kenma, his eyes searching his boyfriend's face. Kenma nodded and the hand that had been grasping on Hinata’s hoodie moved down along his arm to hold his hand. The move looked intimate, and seemed grounding.

“Um...” Hinata cleared his throat. “Tobio is my ex-boyfriend.”

“WHAT?” Oikawa asked loudly, putting his coffee cup down with force.

Suga put his hand on Oikawa’s arm to soothe him and focused back to Hinata.

“I’m guessing it didn’t end well.”

“Not really.” Hinata admitted. “We haven’t kept in contact since. I didn’t even know he was in Tokyo.”

“I can’t believe this.” Oikawa said with absolute incredulity in his voice, leaned his elbows on the island and hid his face in his hands.

Suga’s hand moved to gently run up and down his back, continuing to soothe him. He knew how Oikawa hated that someone he knew knew someone he knew and that someone knew the first person that he knew.

“I can’t believe I slept with the same person as Hinata.” Oikawa spoke against his hands.

“Oh, we... Um...” Hinata grew bright red, his lips were pressed together and he was fidgeting with his hoodie strings with his free hand. “We never...”

Oikawa peeked over his long fingers to look at him. “You never had sex with Kageyama?”

“No.” Hinata shook his head frantically, but just a little from side to side.

Oikawa took a big breath. “I still need to sit down,” he said and turned to slide along the island to sit on the floor.

Suga studied Oikawa for a moment, but as he didn’t seem to be on a verge of a panic attack or a mental breakdown, he returned back to Hinata.

“Are you okay?” He asked and placed his hand on top of Hinata’s to stop his from fidgeting.

“Yeah.” Hinata nodded and glanced at Kenma, who was still quietly observing everything.

Suga wondered what was going through his head. He had never seen Kenma act so defensively or protectively around Hinata. There was sweetness in it, but also fear.

He was absolutely a hundred percent sure though, that if he asked Kenma, he wouldn’t say a word, so he focused on the man sitting on the floor next.

“Oikawa, you good?” Suga looked down next to him and saw him leaning his head back against the side of the island.

“I’m fine,” he blinked slowly.

Suga took the cup Oikawa had put down earlier on the counter and gave it back to him.

“Thank you.” Oikawa said gratefully and he closed his eyes after he took a sip and leaned against Suga’s leg.

Suga wondered what kind of a loop Oikawa had been thrown into, what was going on inside his head. He hoped there was a simple and easy resolution to the situation. Although, he wasn’t entirely sure what the situation really was. There were too many unanswered questions.

The uncertainty lingered in the kitchen, as everyone was too stunned, and too busy with their own thoughts, to say anything.

Suga really hoped he knew what to do to break the weird atmosphere, to say the right words, to ask the right questions.

Luckily he didn’t have to.

“Oikawa-san,” Hinata started quietly and cleared his throat, straightening his back like he overcame his uncertainty and gathered more self-confidence seemingly out of nowhere. But then again, Suga couldn’t read his thoughts and it was possible that Hinata possessed great mental strength to be able to gather enough sense to break out of the stupor surrounding everyone.

“Can I ask something about Kageyama?” Hinata asked carefully, but in a clear voice, from the man he couldn’t see from where he was sitting.

“Sure.” Oikawa answered, sounding removed from the moment, his eye still closed.

“Where did you two meet?”

“Outside some club.”

“Oh.”

“And he goes to the same uni as me.” Oikawa kept speaking in a monotone that started to worry Suga.

“When did he start there?”  

“In the spring.”

“He’s been in Tokyo for a while then.” Hinata said. He looked like he was realizing what that meant as he said the words.

“Maybe he didn’t know you were in Tokyo too.” Suga suggested.

“Does it matter?” Kenma asked in a soft voice, softer than usual.

“I guess not.” Hinata agreed.

Suga noticed Kenma glance at him and he took the hint. He grouched down behind the island to sit next to Oikawa to give the two some sense of privacy.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked from Oikawa to drown out the sound of Kenma and Hinata’s murmurs.

“I’m fine.” Oikawa answered with a sigh and finished his coffee. “Just... This is too weird.”

“Mm, I know.” Suga admitted and let Oikawa lean against his side. They fell quiet then, and even Hinata and Kenma’s murmurs grew quieter and far in between the long stretches of silence.

“Are you going to keep seeing Kageyama?” Suga asked carefully.

“I don’t think it’s up to me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“You saw how he fled out of here.” Oikawa pointed out, his voice breaking out of the monotone. “Do you really think he’s going to come back?”

“You can’t know that for sure.” Suga countered. “But I’m sorry if he doesn’t.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I had a feeling you liked him.”

Oikawa brought his hand to rest on Suga’s knee. “It was nothing so profound. We just had sex.”

“Are you sure that’s all it was?”

“Yes.” Oikawa answered confidently, still leaning against Suga’s side.  

“Okay.” Suga accepted his answer, and noticed how quiet it was in the kitchen, how the feel in the kitchen had changed a little. He listened for a while longer, waiting for another quiet murmur from either Hinata or Kenma, but didn’t hear any.

“You kids alive back there?” He asked from Kenma and Hinata, unable to see them from where he was sitting, unsure if they were still in the kitchen.

“Yes.” Kenma’s answer was quiet.

Suga turned, Oikawa’s hand falling away, and rose on his knees, his hands gripping on the edge of the island as he peeked over it at the two. “Are you sure?”

Oikawa must have caught the hint of worry in Suga’s voice, because he rose on his knees too, and peeked over the island just like he did.

Hinata had wrapped his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, his cheek resting against the top of Kenma’s head. He was clearly comforting the quiet man, which was a little surprising, since it was Hinata that had just quite literally seen a ghost from his past.

“We’re okay.” Hinata confirmed Kenma’s earlier answer with an amused smile.

Suga wondered what kind of a sight he and Oikawa made, looking at Hinata and Kenma in similar positions, their eyes just visible over the island. It was probably either funny or adorable, if Hinata’s smile was anything to go by. Kenma however looked like he was gripping onto Hinata’s hand like a lifeline.

“But I think we’re going to go.” Hinata added.

“Take the breakfast and coffee with you. I don’t want it to go to waste.” Suga suggested in a kind voice, and they eagerly grabbed what was already in front of them. 

“Thank you Suga.” Hinata spoke as he followed Kenma to the front door, both of them weaving through the snowflakes.

When he heard the front door close, Suga stood up, dusting the back of his pants. “Well, this was an interesting morning.”

“You don’t say.” Oikawa sounded weary.

Suga noticed Oikawa’s gaze quickly flick up to his eyes when he turned to look at the man.

Had Oikawa just...? No. It wasn’t possible.

“I need more coffee.” Oikawa stood up abruptly and went to the coffee maker.

Or was it?

It wasn’t important now though, to find out if Oikawa had been looking at his ass. Not after everything that happened in the past fifteen minutes. Suga was just glad that the weird atmosphere had dissipated.

“Did you have any plans for today?” He asked, studying Oikawa’s strong back.

“No,” Oikawa answered, turning to go to the fridge. “But I’m ready to do just about anything to take my mind off of what just happened here,” he stated as he poured milk into his coffee.

Suga was inclined to comply with Oikawa, even though he worried about Hinata, and especially about Kenma, who had looked almost abandoned after whatever he and Hinata had been murmuring about.

There was nothing he could do for them now, though. They knew, that if they wanted to talk about what was going on between them to someone, they could come and find him. But as long as they didn’t, Suga could try and keep Oikawa’s thoughts elsewhere.

“X-files?” He suggested, contemplating on Oikawa’s relaxed expression as he kept looking down to his coffee, stirring the contents. He wondered whether Oikawa’s expression was practiced in the same way that his placid and quiet expression seemed to be whenever he studied and kept close watch on someone.

Or maybe the man was just lost in his thoughts.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head, looking up from the swirls of coffee and milk. “Voltron.”

Suga smiled. Oikawa had definitely just been lost in thoughts.

“Voltron sounds good.”

“But I don’t want to hear any bullshit about Klance.” Oikawa warned.

“Tell me,” Suga said, following Oikawa to a couch. “When you say you’re studying, are you actually just trolling on the internet, hating on Klance and loving on Sheith?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Oikawa feigned ignorance.

Suga laughed lightly when he sat down next to Oikawa, settling down for a Voltron marathon.

He just had to make sure, one more time.

“Are you okay? Really? About finding about Kageyama and Hinata’s past?”

“I’m fine, Suga-chan.” Oikawa smiled a little. “Let’s just watch Voltron,” he added, focusing his gaze on the TV as he put his hand on Suga’s knee again.

And there it remained until one of them had to get up, and there it returned when they were once again sitting next to each other.

 

...

 

There had been no word from Kageyama for two days after he had run out of their apartment with legs going crazy and fast like an anime character’s might. Or at least according to Oikawa there hadn’t. It seemed that he had been right when he said that he probably wouldn’t see Kageyama anymore. 

And to Suga’s surprise, Oikawa didn’t seem too worried about it. He was just himself – doing what he normally would, acting and behaving like he normally would on any given day. Maybe he really was fine.

But Suga still felt like he should do something nice, something to make Oikawa feel better. Even though on the surface Oikawa didn’t look like he needed it, Suga still wanted to cheer him up.

When his eyes hit a specific recipe as he was looking for something new to cook for them for dinner, he knew exactly what to do.

With a smile on his lips, Suga checked that he had all the required ingredients.

 

...

 

It had been two days since Kageyama had fled from their apartment. Oikawa had passed by him twice at the university, but on both times, Kageyama had sped by him like he was in a sudden hurry. And Oikawa let him go. He was confident, that if Kageyama wanted to talk about what had happened, or see him again, he’d send a text.

But it hadn’t happened, and with every passing hour that the radio silence continued, Oikawa was more and more sure that he had heard the last of the man.

It was a little disconcerting, that he wasn’t too worried about it. Because, maybe he should be? Or maybe he shouldn’t? After all, all they had been to each other was to have sex. Great sex, sure, but still, it was only sex. There hadn’t been any feelings, at least not on Oikawa’s part. That could be the reason why he wasn’t too worried about the absence of messages from Kageyama. He knew the man was alive, and he knew that the man was in good enough shape to go to school.

As Oikawa was walking home, after another day of higher academics, he made a mental note to himself that he would check in on Kageyama in a week, if he didn’t hear from the broody man before that.

“Honey, I’m home.” Oikawa called when he closed the front door and took off his shoes. There was a heavenly smell inside the apartment, that was somehow familiar, yet he was sure he had never smelled anything like it. It surrounded Oikawa and managed to dispel any lingering thoughts he had been thinking about Kageyama.

Oikawa followed the smell, and the sounds and clatters, to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he said to Suga, who naturally was the cause of the sounds. And apparently the smell too, as Oikawa noticed Suga holding a pan in his hands and putting it down on the island. “Did you make milk bread?” His eyes widened when he recognized the content in the pan.

_“You would not believe your toes, if ten millions ufos - ”_

The melody Suga was singing reminded Oikawa of a song, he just couldn’t place it. It made him smile though, the happiness in it contagious.

“What?” Oikawa laughed.

“I don’t know.” Suga shrugged. “I was just trying to cheer you up.”

“Consider your mission accomplished.” Oikawa kept smiling, putting his school bag on the floor and sitting by the island, Kageyama completely forgotten at the sight and smell of the milk bread that _Suga made._

“Really?” Suga looked hopeful.

“You made milk bread.” Oikawa answered simply.

“You don’t even know if it’s any good. I’ve never made it before so it might be a total disaster.”

“You made it.” Oikawa stated confidently. “That’s all I need to know to be sure that it’s amazing.”

Suga’s smile turned bashful. “How is it possible that when I tried to make you feel better, you managed to turn the situation around and boost my self-confidence?”

“I’m that good.”

Suga chuckled lightly.

“Why don’t you try it?” He nudged the pan a little closer to Oikawa, who brought the pan the rest of the way, eager to taste it.

He closed his eyes when he took a bite. “It’s so good.”

It really was and Oikawa immediately took another bite.  

“I’m glad.”

Oikawa opened his eyes again to look at Suga and saw a soft smile on his lips. “You’re absolutely amazing at this baking thing.”

“Thank you.” Suga’s smile turned shy as he looked down at his creation.

Oikawa kept looking at Suga, watching every minute change in his expression and posture as he moved to sit by the island too, moving a couple of snowflakes out of his way.

It was no wonder Suga liked snow. He really looked like he belonged in middle of a snowfall, surrounded by soft and beautiful snowflakes.

“So, it really is good? You’re not just saying that?” Suga asked, bringing Oikawa back from his thoughts.

“It’s probably the best milk bread I’ve ever tasted. You’ve set the bar high for the next time you make it.” Oikawa spoke reverently.

“I always rise for the challenge.” Suga smiled confidently again, and took a bite of the milk bread too.

“Hmm...” Oikawa was pleased to hear that. “Good to know.”

Suga flashed an even wider smiled before it turned soft again, the corners of his lips gently turned upward.

A fleeting feeling of wanting to kiss Suga right at that moment ran through Oikawa.  

So of course the universe decided to intervene, in the form of Kuroo, barging in as usual.

“OH MY GOD!” The man stopped right before the kitchen, his arms wrapping around himself tightly. “The smell! I want to die surrounded by it.” He kneeled on the floor, his head tilted up and his gaze on the ceiling.

Oikawa sputtered at the dramatics Kuroo displayed, the momentary sensation of affection for Suga he had just experienced, forgotten.

“You better be satisfied by just smelling it because there’s no way you’re getting a taste.” Oikawa told Kuroo.

“Did Suga make something mouth-watering again? Did he make one of his famous delicacies?” Kuroo inquired, now lying on the floor in a fetal position.

“Are you high?” Suga asked, leaning past Oikawa to see the bedhead hugging his knees on the floor.

“No.” Kuroo answered serenely. “I think it’s just the smell in here.”

Oikawa exchanged a look with Suga, and they both came to the same conclusion.

“Drama queen,” they said simultaneously and turned back to Kuroo, now rocking back and forth on his side.

“I’m not a drama queen. Are you not sensing the wonderfulness here like I am?”

“Are you just behaving like this, as a form of an apology for the time you were an asshole?” Oikawa asked from the man who was now lying like a starfish on the floor.

“Maybe.” Kuroo dragged the word. “Is it working?”

“You already apologized.” Suga said patiently.  

“I’m still sorry.”

“And you’re still forgiven.”

Oikawa followed the conversation between Suga and Kuroo with mild interest, with only one thought which he had to voice.

“I think you forgave too quickly,” he said to Suga. He was thoroughly enjoying Kuroo behaving so overtly and beyond dramatically.

“How come?” Suga looked genuinely intrigued, but there was a small crease between his eyebrows.

“I want to see what else he might do so you’d forgive him.”

Suga tilted his head. “He’s not a toy, Oikawa,” he reprimanded mildly.

“Yet,” Oikawa pointed out with a smug smile.

Suga sighed.

And an impish grin grew on his face. “I should get my camera and immortalize this moment.”

Oikawa watched with a pleased smile Suga leave before he addressed Kuroo. “If you don’t want there to be evidence of you acting like this, I’d get up before Suga comes back.”

Kuroo sighed. “You’re probably right.”

But he didn’t make a move to actually get up.

“What’s wrong Kuroo?”

“Nothing. I’ve just been feeling a little off lately.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sick too.”

“I really hope not, but it’s been going around in the team.”

“And you were kind enough to bring it here too.” Oikawa stated sarcastically.

Kuroo smirked. “You’re welcome.”

How was it that Kuroo always seemed to disregard the sarcasm he must have detected and instead answered like the words had been said genuinely? Oikawa shook his head a little, belatedly realizing that Suga had been gone for far too long if he was just fetching his camera.

Kuroo had probably followed the same train of thought, sitting up on the floor and leaning back against his hands. “What’s keeping Suga?”

“I don’t know.” Oikawa said quietly and turned his body to look towards the hallway. “Suga-chan?”

There was no answer and Oikawa exchanged a puzzled look with Kuroo.

“Suga?” Kuroo called as well, louder than Oikawa had. There still was no answer and Kuroo stood up slowly from the floor.

“It’s really quiet too. What is he doing?” Kuroo asked quietly, almost whispering the words.

Oikawa shrugged and shook his head.

Maybe aliens abducted him.

Oikawa was a bit disturbed that he felt a little miffed that they’d take Suga but not him.

He was just about to go and check if he was right, when Suga came back – carrying a camera in one hand and his phone in the other, looking down at the screen.

“Kuroo?” Suga looked up to the man. “Did you give Yamaguchi my number?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo answered casually.

Oikawa understood why Suga had taken his time. It was probably an unpleasant surprise to get a message, or maybe a call from Yamaguchi. He knew that Suga had a thing about his number, how it was truly a sign of trust from Suga if he gave his phone number.

“Did he ask for it?” Suga asked in a bit lower voice than was usual.

“No.”

“Did you actually think you were helping?”

“No.” Kuroo smirked.

Suga sighed. “You know how careful I am about my number. It took months for you to have it.”

Oikawa was immensely pleased to hear that. It took only two weeks for Oikawa to get it, after their first “fight” and “make-up” when he had far too casually asked about Akaashi.

“I just thought that since he’s your ‘friend’,“ Kuroo used air quotes, “it wouldn’t hurt for him to have it.”

Suga put his phone and camera down on a kitchen counter before he turned to fully face Kuroo. Oikawa had a feeling the man was going to get a lecturing, and he smiled smugly, continuing to eat. There was something paternal in Suga’s expression.

“He’s not my ‘friend’,” Suga mimicked Kuroo’s use of air quotes, lacing his voice with a sneer when he said the word. “He’s a friend.” He stressed the word with heavy meaning of sincerity.

“And this is too high school-y, giving my number to someone just because you think he might be into me. I’d really like it if from now on you kept your nose out my friendships, relationships and whatever-else-ships you can come up with.”

“Okay.” Kuroo raised his arms as a sign of surrender. To Oikawa’s surprise, he actually sounded genuine about it. And yet... He didn’t believe that Kuroo meant it.

“Thank you.” Suga nodded. “I guess there’s no need for this now that you’re not lying on the floor anymore.” Suga took his camera and left the kitchen again.

“Why would you give out Suga’s number?” Oikawa asked quietly to make sure Suga didn’t hear. “You know he’s not ready to date anyone.”

Kuroo let out a huff. “Don’t act like you don’t have your own axe to grind on this.”

“What?”

Kuroo fixed Oikawa with a look that told him how much he thought he knew.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been talking with Makki and Mattsun.”

“Just Makki.”

“Don’t you start too.” Oikawa warned him. “I’m not into Suga. He’s a friend.”

“A friend?” Kuroo asked. “Or a ‘friend’?” He added a cocked eyebrow and a heavy meaning in his voice.

“A friend.” Oikawa answered, getting exasperated that he was constantly hammered by insinuations that he liked Suga.

“I heard what happened here a couple of days ago, and I have to say, you don’t seem too sorry that your fuck buddy took off so abruptly.”

“Kenma told you?” Oikawa asked in a normal voice.

“Of course he did. He actually worries about it, but you don’t seem to.” Kuroo stopped whispering too.

“What is he worried about? So Hinata and Kageyama used to date. Why is it such a big thing if it was in the past?”

“I’m not sure. I just know that Kenma knows how lucky he is to be with Hinata and he’s sometimes anxious that something’s going to take Hinata away from him. I remember when Kenma started to date Hinata and how the dude was kind of “thing” between the two of them. It disappeared quickly when they grew closer, but now that the dude is back, so is Kenma’s worry.”

“Well, based on the way he took off I wouldn’t worry if I was Kenma.”

“Have you heard of him since?”

“No. And I doubt I ever will.”

“Hmm...” Kuroo nodded. “Pleased about that aren’t you?”

Oikawa realized that there was just the smallest hint of a smile on his lips and he quickly ate more milk bread – which only made his smile grow fonder because it tasted too good.

With a victorious smile Kuroo looked towards the hallway, Suga’s absence heavy in the kitchen again. “I guess he stayed to text with Yamaguchi.”

“Why do you want Suga to date him so badly?”

Kuroo’s smile was smug when he answered, “Because it riles you up.”

Oikawa didn’t like that Kuroo thought he had figured out something, or that he thought that he had just proven something.

“You really can be an asshole sometimes.” Oikawa stated.

“You know I’m right.” Kuroo countered. “You should just tell Suga that you like him.”

“No.” Oikawa said, his tone putting the end to the conversation once and for all. “And Suga’s not texting Yamaguchi, his phone is still here.” He pointed towards the cell on the counter where Suga had left it.

“Relieved?” Kuroo kept smirking and Oikawa threw a nearby chopstick at the man.

 

...

 

Suga was leaning his elbow to his desk, his head resting on his hand, his other hand on the table next to his phone, his fingers tapping on the surface as he kept staring at the message Yamaguchi had sent him the day before.

 

_Hey, it’s Yamaguchi. Kuroo gave me your number. Is that okay?_

 

He should probably answer. It had already been a day. But something was stopping him. Maybe it was the vague answers Kuroo had given when Suga had asked what was so significant about him meeting Yamaguchi.

Maybe it was the insinuations he could catch between the words and in the tone of voice Kuroo had used. What if Kuroo was right and Yamaguchi was interested in dating him? When all Suga wanted with the man was to be friends?

 

_It’s fine_

 

Suga sent the text, deciding that that should be enough for now, or at least until he figured out more of this situation, knew more of what was going on.

He really hoped it would only stay as a friendship. He wasn’t ready for anything more, and even if he was, he knew that Yamaguchi wouldn’t be what he was looking for.

Apparently it wasn’t enough just to find about the link between Kageyama and Hinata and wonder what that would mean to those involved. Of course the universe had to throw in confusion about Yamaguchi in the mix too.

His phone buzzed on the desk and Suga bit his lip as he opened a message. From Asahi. Suga read his message with a small relieved sigh.

 

_Back home. But I got sick on the train ride._

 

Suga smiled as he made his way to the kitchen. Of course Asahi was sick again. Somehow it was very “Asahi” to get sick so easily, his immune system was just as timid as he was at times.

In three minutes after Asahi had sent the text, Suga was knocking on his door, leftover soup in one hand and Asahi’s key in the other. He knew that Asahi was a silent sufferer. He was just there to make sure he didn’t need anything else, and to see if maybe, possibly, he could do something for him, just to keep his thoughts away from, well, Yamaguchi. Or Kageyama. He was certain he couldn’t resolve anything just by overthinking everything.

Suga could hear faint rustling behind the door before Asahi opened it, with a blanket over his shoulders like a magnificent cape, his bun a little loose. “Hey Suga,” he said and coughed into the crook of his elbow.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Suga asked sympathetically.

“Like I’ve never seen a healthy day in my life.” Asahi answered with a raspy voice and let Suga in.

“I brought you soup.” Suga held up a bowl covered with a lid in his hand. “And your key.”

“Thank you.” Asahi took back the key and put it down on the little side table by the door. “I’m not really hungry now though.”

“That’s fine. You can eat it later.” Suga said, pushing his way further in. “Go sit down, I’ll put it in your fridge.”

“Okay, thank you Suga.” Asahi went over to his couch and sat down, gathering the blanket so he looked like he was cocooned in it.

“Do you need anything else?” Suga looked around in the open kitchen. There were more tea mugs and other dishes waiting for washing in the sink than was normal for Asahi, who lived alone and had come home just last night. It was a bit suspicious, even if he was sick.

“No I don’t need anything.” Asahi answered and blew his nose. “This is just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Suga turned to look at him, assessing him. Where was this confidence and downplay of a common cold coming from? If Suga had suspected Oikawa to be a germaphobe, there was no need of speculating when it came to Asahi. He was practically a hypochondriac about every sneeze or cough he witnessed from someone.

How was he so casual about this then? Unless... Someone else was responsible for this confidence, someone who was cool enough to ooze it and spread assurances.

Suga’s eye was caught again with the gardenias sitting on a windowsill. He decided to ask, to confirm his suspicions.

“You know, I was really admiring your beautiful gardenias whenever I came to water them.”

“Thanks.” Asahi smiled a little. “And thank you for taking care of them while I was gone.”

“You’re welcome.” Suga said offhandedly, impatient to get to the bottom of the flowers. “Where’d you get them?”

“Noya gave them to me.”

“He did?” Suga feigned the surprise. He’d suspected as much. “Hmm...” He kept up with the charade, pretending to wonder about the flowers, even though he knew exactly what they meant. It was time for Asahi to come clean.

“Do you know what gardenias mean?”

Asahi scratched his head in thought, “No.”

“They mean secret love.”

“Oh.” A blush started to dust Asahi’s cheeks. “I don’t think Noya knows what they mean either,” he tried to cover up.

But of course Nishinoya would know what they meant. His parents owned a flower shop that has been handed down from generation to generation.

“I think Noya knows exactly what they mean.” Suga smiled softly at Asahi, to let him know that he knew that the two were more than just friends.

He watched with fascination as the meaning of his words set in Asahi.

“How long have you known?” Asahi asked carefully.

“Since your birthday.” Suga answered, walking closer to the couch Asahi was cowering on. “Last year.”

Asahi’s eyes widened with comprehension and apprehension.

“Why did you two keep it a secret?” Suga asked kindly. He was honestly intrigued to know the thought process there.

“I don’t know.” Asahi shrugged. “We just thought that since pretty much all our friends live in this building, if everyone found out, we’d be mercilessly teased.”

“You’re probably right.” Suga agreed.

“Are you angry that I hid it from you?” Asahi peered at him cautiously, his head deep between his raised shoulders.

“Of course not.” Suga smiled softly. “It was your secret. You were entitled to it.”

The answer seemed to ease Asahi and he relaxed his shoulders a little. “Does anyone else know?”

“I don –“

“Hey, I brought you some cold medicine –“ Nishinoya said, interrupting Suga when he came in, but stopping in mid-sentence when he noticed that Asahi wasn’t alone. 

Suga’s eyes fixed on the keys in Nishinoya’s hand, and he recognized the keychain as the same the man kept his own keys on. He smiled at the thought that Nishinoya had a key to Asahi’s apartment, and probably had had it for some time now.

“Oh hey, Suga.” Nishinoya said, but before he could come up with an excuse why he was there, and how he was walking in with his own key, Suga spoke up.

“Well, I’m going to go,” he said and pointed to Asahi. “Rest and drink lots of fluids.”

Asahi nodded and Suga turned to Nishinoya as he walked to the door.

“Make sure he rests and drinks lots of fluids,” he reminded the shorter man, who nodded too, his eyes flashing between Suga and Asahi.

“Um, Suga...” Asahi called when he was about to open the front door.

Suga turned his head to look at him over his shoulder.

“Could you not tell anyone else?” Asahi asked little timidly.

“Of course.” Suga promised with an easy smile and left the two alone. He wondered, as he closed Asahi’s apartment door, if they were going to stop or continue hiding their relationship.

“Suga-chan!”

Suga stopped at the sound of his name, his feet on the first step, and saw Oikawa climbing up the stairs.

“Hey.” Suga greeted the man with a smile and waited until Oikawa reached the landing.

“Hey,” he said back and slid his arm behind Suga’s back as they continued walking up the stairs together, his hand resting on Suga’s hip. “Can we play Alias today?”

“Sure.” Suga agreed easily. The arm around him was strong and steady, and it made him feel secure in a kind of a wonderful way. “Why the sudden urge to play that particular game?”

“I don’t know. Just feel like it.” Oikawa did a casual shrug with one shoulder. 

“I hope we get a couple more players though.”

“When have we ever been lacking in options when it’s about people to play a game with?” Oikawa stated the obvious.

“You’re right.” Suga had to agree just as they arrived to their apartment door. “By the way, have you heard from Kageyama?” He asked when he opened the door, Oikawa’s arm sliding away from around him.

“No.” Oikawa answered shortly as he closed the door softly after them.

Suga had never truly understood their relationship for what it really was, because Oikawa never talked about it, or about Kageyama. But he was still feeling a little bad for Oikawa, for what probably felt like a loss to the man. “I’m sorry.” He laid his hand gently on Oikawa’s shoulder to comfort him.

“I know,” Oikawa said with a rare tone that was both understanding and patient. “But I’m fine.”

“I know.” Suga repeated Oikawa’s words. “I’ll ask around if anyone’s planning on coming over tonight,” he said then, already sending messages to the building’s tenants, and to Daichi. If he and Daichi paired up as a team, nothing could stop them.

“Alright.” Oikawa nodded, already backing away down the hallway. “Let me know when you find out. I think I’ll try to focus on the dissertation a bit.”

“Sure.” Suga agreed, already getting a reply from Tanaka. He could faintly hear the creak of Oikawa’s door just before he heard it close.

Was that weird? How Oikawa just... walked backwards... to his room?

Suga shook the thought from his head as Hanamaki answered too, and went to fetch his laptop. He had some photos to transfer from his camera and he might as well do that now.

He should act like a responsible adult with a job at least once a week.

Working also gave him an excuse to ignore the blinking light on his phone, indicating a message that had come earlier when he had been at Asahi’s. He knew it could wait.

 

...

 

Oikawa sighed with relief when he closed his room door and leaned his back to it, only twenty seconds after he had told Suga he’d work on his dissertation.

Suga didn’t seem to react in any way to his out-of-nowhere-move –his unpredicted move of putting his arm around Suga when he saw the man.

It had literally come _out of nowhere._ He had seen Suga. He had walked the stairs up to him. He had put his arm around him. That’s it.

It wasn’t until they had arrived to their door, and Oikawa had slid the arm off, that he had realized what he had just done.

But it didn’t prove anything. It didn’t prove that Kuroo or Makki or Mattsun were right. Or even Akiko. He wasn’t into Suga. He didn’t like Suga that way.

Suga was a friend – a dear friend, who deserved everything good in the world. Even though, sometimes he could be as wicked as the devil. And even more often as sweet and caring as an angel.

Okay, sure, he could admit it. He sometimes had these sweet thoughts about Suga. These soft and rose-colored...

_He wasn’t into Suga._

No matter how much he craved Suga’s presence, his hugs, the strength he could lean into. No matter how he was ready to comfort Suga at the drop of a hat.

_He didn’t like Suga that way._

Oikawa sighed again and fell to lie on his bed. He pulled down one of his pillows and hugged it to his chest, his eyes listlessly roaming on the ceiling.

_Suga was just a friend._

Oikawa closed his eyes, willing himself to think about anything else but Suga.

And it worked, sort of. As he opened his eyes again, he came to the conclusion that this was Hanamaki’s, Matsukawa’s and Kuroo’s fault.

They insisted on this, and that was what had made Oikawa act like it, in some weird bizarre way.

Yes, that must be the reason, the cause, of his behavior around Suga.

Except it had started way before anyone had said anything.

There had been the brief moment when he _craved_ a hug from Suga, and the even shorter moment when he wanted to kiss Suga.

 _But that didn’t prove that I like Suga,_ Oikawa kept lying to himself, in fear of what would or wouldn’t happen if he ever admitted his true feelings out loud.

Oikawa closed his eyes again, willing his affection for Suga to go down, down deep inside him. There would be no use of him getting heartbroken over Suga.

If there was one thing that Oikawa was absolutely sure of, other than that aliens existed, it was that Suga didn’t feel the same way about him.

 

...

 

A few hours later, Oikawa found himself in the living room, lying on the couch, regarding Suga with contemplative eyes. What had brought him to the living room was probably the knowledge that Suga would be there. For some reason his thoughts kept drifting back to Suga.

They were alone and it was quiet and calm, the snowflakes frozen in mid-air, unmoving.   

“What are you thinking?” Oikawa asked when he realized that Suga had stood in the same place for several minutes, seemingly looking at nothing. He had already been there when Oikawa had come to the living room.

“Hm?” Suga sounded distracted, more focused on whatever he was currently thinking than on what was going on around him.

“I asked what are you thinking,” Oikawa told him patiently. “You’ve been staring at the same spot of air in front of you for a disturbingly long time.”

Suga turned his head towards him slowly, little by little coming back to the room. “I’m fine,” Suga blinked. “I was just thinking.”

Oikawa smiled at Suga’s answer and the way he seemed to be somewhere far away. “That’s not exactly what I asked, but I’ll go with it. Thinking about what?”

“If we should open the gift.” Suga pointed towards the big red box. “We could turn the box into a cardboard jail, with those little bars and everything, so whenever someone was rude, or insufferable, or if we just didn’t like them on that day, we could throw them in there.”

Oikawa was speechless. He was certain his eyes were almost comically widened, but he didn’t care.

Suga was absolutely brilliant.

It was probably one of the funniest and best ideas he’d ever heard and he already had someone in mind to put in the jail.

“Ohmygod. YES!” He exclaimed when he was finally able to form his thoughts into words, jumping up from the couch and going to the gift. “Let’s do that.”

“Are you serious?” Suga asked, his lips in an amused set, matching his tone.

“Weren’t you?” Oikawa asked seriously. “I’m going to be really disappointed if you weren’t.”

Suga laughed softly, the sound of it filling the living room as it grew until he had to breathe. His eyes were bright when he spoke, “No, I was being serious. I just didn’t think you’d actually go for it.”

“Of course I’d go for it. It’s an amazing idea.”

Suga smiled, looking pleased and a little bashful. “Thanks. But I think we should check with Kuroo if it’s okay to open the gift.”

“Who cares what he thinks?”

“It’s his.” Suga pointed out.

“And he’s been egging everyone to open it.”

“Still.”

“And I think that Kuroo should be the first to be put in it.” Oikawa stated.

“I could just put you in it,” Suga tilted his head to stress his mildly disapproving tone, but lifted his chin a little as he seemed to remember something.

“Oh, but you probably wouldn’t fit inside it.”

“Because I’m tall?” Oikawa tried to follow Suga’s train of thought and guessed. 

“No.” Suga leaned his arms and elbows on top of the gift. “Because of your ego. It’s too big to fit in here,” he tapped the gift with his index finger.

“Maybe you should be the first to go in.” Oikawa stated his counter-proposal.

“Me? Why would you put me in there? I think someone once told me that I’m an angel.” Suga said with a sweet smile.

Oikawa remembered that moment too, in Suga’s closet looking for his suit. He thought back to looking up at Suga, who had been smiling like that then too, and wondering if...

No, Suga hadn’t been flirting with him, Oikawa thought, quickly discarding that possibility.

“I also told you that you’re the devil,” he reminded Suga.

Suga’s opened his mouth for a reply, but he was interrupted when Tanaka came.

“Hey,” the man called, taking his shoes off and both Oikawa and Suga discreetly moved away from the gift.

“Hey, Tanaka,” Suga greeted him, going to the kitchen, while Oikawa sat down on a couch.

“Did you ask Daichi to come too, Suga?” Tanaka asked when he sat down on the other couch. “If you did, I’m not playing.”

“Why? Are you fighting with Daichi?” Oikawa asked.

“No,” Tanaka shook his head. “There’s just no point in playing Alias if Suga and Daichi are paired. They can be proclaimed the winners before the game even starts. They’re unbeatable.”

“And you hid this from me when I suggested the game?” Oikawa looked up to Suga, accepting a soda from him when he came to sit on the same couch.

But Suga didn't answer his question. Oikawa narrowed his eyes just a little and noticed a mischievous glint in Suga's eyes before he answered Tanaka's question.

“Daichi’s not coming,” Suga said with a kind smile. “And we can always draw pairs.”

“But that leaves a chance that anyone could end up with Hinata.” Tanaka said.

“Is Hinata bad at the game then?”

“He uses sounds, not words, when he describes the objects. It’s impossible to guess them.” Tanaka answered. “Can I have one too?” He pointed to the sodas Oikawa and Suga were drinking.

“Of course,” Suga answered and got up, leaving his own bottle on the couch. “And you don't have to worry about Hinata. He’s working,” he added walking to the kitchen.

“Oh, okay.” Tanaka nodded, looking a little relieved. Oikawa got the feeling that Tanaka had at least once been paired with Hinata.

“Work reminds me,” Tanaka started on another subject, the change clear in his voice, when Suga came back. “Do you remember when you asked me about Futakuchi?”

“Yes.” Suga’s answer was short, the end of it rising like a question. He stopped behind the couch Oikawa was sitting on, and gently threw the bottle in his hand to Tanaka.

Tanaka caught the bottle easily and opened it carefully. “I asked around a bit and he’s definitely dating someone.”

“I didn’t ask because I was interested in him.”

There was a hint of sadness in Suga’s voice that puzzled Oikawa and he looked over his shoulder to see him.

“Who’s Futakuchi?”

It was another name he had never heard, just like Yamaguchi had been, and he was a little apprehensive. Was this another man that Suga could possibly start dating? Someone Suga might be pursuing?

“Yuuji’s new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Oikawa and Tanaka said simultaneously, but in different tones of understanding.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” Suga smiled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Tanaka apologized.

“Because I didn’t tell you.” Suga smiled kindly at the man, leaning his hands on the back of the couch. “Really, I’m fine,” he added, finishing his statement by looking back to Oikawa.

“If you say so.” Oikawa nodded, just as their front door opened again.

“Hello!” Kuroo called loudly when he came in with Bokuto, changing the feel in the room with their ever-present joy when they were together.

“He – “

There was a knock on the front door shortly after it had been closed, cutting off Suga in middle of his hello.

Everyone looked to the door with varying expressions of amused and bemused.

“You know, you don’t have to knock once you’ve already come inside.” Tanaka joked.

“Shall I open it?” Bokuto casually gestured to the door with his thumb, already reaching to open it before anyone answered his question, revealing Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“Yes, you should open the door and let us in.” Hanamaki answered Bokuto’s question with a smirk as he came in, Matsukawa closing the door after them.

There were scattered chuckles at Hanamaki’s answer as everyone settled in the living room.

“Is Daichi coming? I tried to ask him but he didn’t answer my message.” Kuroo asked as he fell to sit on the armchair with a heavy thud.

“No.” Suga’s answer came from behind Oikawa. He knew that if he moved his head just a fraction to the left, he would make contact with Suga’s hand. There was something in the air between Oikawa’s head and Suga’s hand that made him very aware of their physical closeness.

“Then I want to be paired with Suga.” Bokuto proclaimed quickly, raising his hand in the air like he was volunteering.

“No way. Suga’s already called for.” Kuroo disagreed.

“But I want to be with Oikawa.” Suga said, putting his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder.

The gesture and words filled Oikawa with warmth but he checked the elation from his face. He knew there were eyes looking at him.

“Has anyone else done a headcount?” Hanamaki looked around the room. “We have an uneven number of players. There isn’t a pair for everyone. We can’t even form even teams.”

“I guess we can’t play Alias then...” Tanaka mused.

"Unless we get one more player. Is anyone else coming?"

"No."

“What do we do then?”

“We could play Monopoly.” Kuroo suggested, but it was met with a resounding “No!” from everyone.

“Why do you hate Monopoly?”

“It’s not the game we hate but you and your unwillingness to lose.” Bokuto told him.

Oikawa knew this was going nowhere with everyone bickering on what to play and got up. “We really need that cardboard jail,” he whispered to Suga, who smiled in response, when he passed him on the way to the shelf.

“I don’t always win.” Oikawa heard Kuroo disagree. He had his back turned to the living room and to everyone in it as he looked for a game they could play.

“The last and only time you lost you started to throw game pieces at me.” Suga reminded him.

“Wait, you threw game pieces at Suga?” Matsukawa asked in turn.

“He did.” Bokuto verified.

“That’s kind of uncool Kuroo.”

Oikawa wasn’t sure who said it. He had zeroed in on a game and was pulling it from under other games, the slide of the boxes drowning the conversation for him for a second.

“Was that the reason I kept finding those little houses from the floor?” Tanaka asked when Oikawa made his way back to the others.

“Yes.” Suga sighed, lowering to lean his arms on the back of the couch.

The conversation around the coffee table came to a sudden halt when Oikawa dropped the game on the wooden surface next to Alias.

“Twister?” Hanamaki looked up to him with an amused smile.

“We can all play.” Oikawa explained simply.

“Do you seriously plan to fit all of us on the mat at the same time?” Matsukawa asked, the incredulity in his voice countered when he opened the box and pulled out the mat.

“Yes,” Oikawa smiled widely. “It’ll be fun.”

“There are seven of us...” Bokuto trailed off, his eyebrows pulled close together in deep thought.

“One can be the spinner and whoever loses first can be the next spinner.” Suga offered an easy solution.

“Six is still a tight fit.” Hanamaki pointed out.

“Winner gets to pick the next game.” Oikawa suggested.

And that sealed it for everyone.

They moved the coffee table to the side to make more room in the living room to put the mat down. Suga volunteered to be the first spinner, sitting down on a couch, while everyone else took their starting positions.

It took only three moves for everyone to get tangled together. Oikawa wasn’t sure how he was even standing up with both his feet and one hand all on blue, wedged between Bokuto in a three legged crab position, and Hanamaki’s with a leg between his to reach the yellow.

Suga seemed to be having the time of his life, laughing every time he spun the little arrow, the glee evident in his voice whenever he told someone “right hand green”, or “left leg red”. Oikawa couldn’t really blame the man to find something funny about six tall men playing Twister. He probably would be laughing too at everyone’s groans and swaying when they tried not to fall if he wasn’t concentrating so hard on not falling himself.

But everyone didn’t share Oikawa’s opinion.

“Suga, I think you’re laughing too hard over there.” Tanaka spoke up from somewhere behind Oikawa’s back. “Just wait until you’re here too.”

“If you’re uncomfortable you can always give up.” Kuroo’s voice was muffled by something. Oikawa knew the man was in the worst position, his hands and legs as far apart as they could be, reaching to every corner.

“Fat chance.” Tanaka responded.

Suga laughed again. It had become the telltale sign to everyone that it was time for someone to move again.

“Okay, Bokuto, right hand blue,” Suga snickered.

“There are no blue ones left.” Bokuto exclaimed. “What do I do?”

“You can put your hand on a spot that is already occupied.” Suga informed the man.

“Wait!” Kuroo exclaimed even louder. “You can?”

“Yes,” everyone answered.

“Great, thanks for telling me too.”

Everyone chuckled a little. They were all fully aware of the predicament Kuroo had positioned himself in.

“Oikawa, it’s your turn,” Suga actually _giggled._ Oikawa had a feeling that wasn’t a good sign.

“Left hand green.”

He was right. It was almost impossible for him to reach the green _behind his back_ without lifting his legs or the other hand. He was now at the same eye level with Tanaka, who still had the easiest position – legs next to each other on green, hands next to each other on blue.

Suga’s laughter rang clear in the room again, and it was starting to elicit accompanying chuckles from others too, the exertion of holding a position exhausting them.

“Makki, right leg yellow.”

Hanamaki easily turned to a bridge to reach a free yellow.

Oikawa let out a gust of breath, envying the man. “I forgot how flexible you are.”

Hanamaki answered with a confident smirk.

“Yeah, how is that even possible?” Bokuto marveled at Hanamaki’s skills.

“Just born this way.” Hanamaki answered.

“Yoga.” Matsukawa countered, revealing the truth to everyone’s amusement.

“You do yoga?” Suga sounded interested, spinning again.

“Partner yoga.”

Everyone turned their heads to look at the couple.

Oikawa wasn’t all that surprised to learn about this. The idea of Hanamaki and Matsukawa doing partner yoga fit them.

Matsukawa only shrugged when Suga gave him instructions for his next move. “It’s fun.”

Oikawa turned his head back the way it had been not to over-exert his neck, and he noticed Tanaka looking at him with narrowed eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, wary of the man’s look.

“I’m just trying to figure out whether you’re top or bottom.” Tanaka answered smoothly, his eyes widening to their normal set.

“You could always ask.” Oikawa suggested as a joke.

“Okay,” Tanaka nodded. “Are you a top or a bottom?” He asked with an even voice, expression open and curious.

Oikawa didn’t think Tanaka would actually go for it, but he decided to answer honestly. He didn’t see any reason for him to hide his preference, since he didn’t really have any.

“It really depends on who I’m with. I’m always happy to bottom if need be, but mostly I just end up as a top.”

“Thank you for sharing this interesting tidbit with us.” Kuroo sounded sincere.

“Even with Iwaizumi?” Tanaka asked, returning back to what he had asked from Oikawa.

He recognized the poorly veiled incredulity in Tanaka’s voice, and rolled his eyes. Of course he had been top in his relationship with Iwaizumi.

But it was Suga who answered, thoroughly surprising everybody.

“Oh, Iwaizumi is as bottom as they come.”

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa gasped. He knew it came out sounding more scandalous than he intended it to. He just...

“What?” Suga looked from one face to another. Oikawa could see a few of them mirroring the same surprise and disbelief he was experiencing as they all looked at Suga.

“I just didn’t expect you to talk so freely about sex.” Oikawa answered slowly, still reeling from how casually Suga had said it.

“Why not? We’re all adults here.”

The brief silence that followed Suga’s words was suddenly broken by Bokuto.

“Suga’s back!” He hooted excitedly. “I don’t even care if I lose now.”

Bokuto dropped down to the mat, misjudging the reach of his legs when he started a domino effect by tripping Oikawa, who lost his footing and took down Hanamaki who fell on Kuroo and so it went until everyone was lying in a mess, laughing from relief and joy that the game was over, the laughter contagious in the pile of tangled limbs and body parts they were lying in.

Only Bokuto had escaped the pile up, having rushed to Suga and tackling him on the couch he had been sitting on. Suga was laughing in the bear hug he was squeezed in and Oikawa felt a little twinge of envy and jealousy.

But Bokuto’s words puzzled him. What had he meant with “back”?

Oikawa looked to Kuroo with questions. He didn’t understand what Bokuto was so happy about.

“I’ll explain it to you later.” Kuroo promised in a hushed voice when he noticed Oikawa looking at him. He had a proud expression on his face when he looked back to Suga.

Oikawa looked back to Suga as well, and noticed the absence of the usual embarrassment Suga had exhibited when the subject of sex had been brought up.

“Does anyone fancy a rematch?” Hanamaki asked as one by one everyone managed to untangle themselves from the knot they had created.

“Can we just all agree that you would’ve won?” Kuroo suggested, ruffling his own hair.

“I didn’t get to play.” Suga pointed out, still locked in Bokuto’s arms.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself immensely by observing our suffering.” Kuroo countered with his hands on his hips.  

“Were you really suffering or were you having fun?” Suga asked with a mischievous smile.

“Let’s at least take a break.” Oikawa intervened the lighthearted bickering and sat down on the other couch, that wasn’t occupied by Suga and Bokuto. The more he observed them, the more he wanted Bokuto to let go of Suga.

“Maybe we could eat or something?” Tanaka suggested. “I’m kind of hungry.”

“Good idea.” Hanamaki complied and patted the top of Tanaka’s head on his way to the kitchen.

Matsukawa came to sit on the same couch with Oikawa. “I have a thought of the day for you,” he said and Oikawa turned to him, waiting for another piece of wisdom from him.

“Alright, let’s hear it.” Oikawa prompted, knowing that the “wisdom” wouldn’t be wisdomous at all.

“Almost every hand you’ve ever shaken has touched a penis.”

Oikawa was briefly speechless again.

“How are we friends?”

Matsukawa’s lips stretched into a lazy smile. “When you really think about it, you just know that it’s true.”

“And where do you keep reading these things?”

“Makki sent that to me in a text when I was going to a meeting.”

Oikawa grinned. That was almost Suga-levels of brilliant evil master-mindedness. The thought brought Oikawa’s eyes back to Suga and Bokuto.

“Does that bother you?” Matsukawa asked in a low voice, gesturing towards the two men on the adjacent couch with his chin.

“No.” Oikawa hid the lie in his tone. “Does it bother you that Makki is still trying to get you to quit your job?”

It wasn’t known beyond Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki, that Matsukawa hated his job.

“I’m going to marry him one day.” Matsukawa smiled softly, looking towards the kitchen and at his boyfriend who was going through the fridge’s contents.

Oikawa answered his smile in kind, happy for his friends. His best friends. The only ones he could confide in about anything. It had been Hanamaki who Oikawa had first admitted to that he wasn’t in love with Iwaizumi anymore. He knew he could trust Matsukawa as well.

He made sure that Tanaka and Kuroo had moved out of earshot before he turned to the man.

“It does bother me,” he said in a low voice so no one else heard. He saw Matsukawa’s eyes slid to Suga and Bokuto and then back to him.

“That’s okay.” Matsukawa said with heavy meaning in the words, making Oikawa believe that it really was okay for him to be just a little bit into Suga. Even if he wasn’t ready to really admit it to anyone.

“Hey, Bokuto,” Matsukawa addressed the man. “Where’s Akaashi?”

“He’s studying.” Bokuto answered, letting go off Suga and sitting up.

“Thank you.” Oikawa discreetly said in a hush to Matsukawa, who smiled a little with a subtle nod.

When Suga was able to get up as well, he moved to sit on the same couch with Oikawa and Matsukawa, settling close enough for Oikawa to feel his warmth.

“I could totally beat you in Twister.” Suga said with a challenging smile.

Oikawa’s lips stretched to a pleased grin. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’ll show you,” Suga sounded confident. “Someday, one on one, just you and me.”

Oikawa liked that thought – just him and Suga, playing Twister and having fun.

“You’re on.”

Suga’s responding smile was beautiful, a promise for the future.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “You would not believe your toes, if ten millions ufos - ” was sang in the tune of Fireflies by Owl City
> 
> Originally this chapter was longer, but I split it and the second half is going to be chapter 22.  
> Yes, I'm aware that the next is chapter 21, but I feel like it's not time for whatever happens in chapter 22 yet. 
> 
> That said, I can't wait for you to read the next chapter *jitters excitedly*  
> It's beyond cute and fluffy. Prepare for some tooth rotting sweetness!  
> (I really hope I'm not overselling it here...) 
> 
> to be continued:  
> ... Suga jumped down from the counter and latched himself on Oikawa's back, securely wrapping his arms around Oikawa's shoulders... 
> 
>  
> 
> [ ** ](https://drabble-droubble.tumblr.com)


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's just another ordinary week in Suga and Oikawa's apartment.  
> Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just short little glimpses of interaction between Suga and Oikawa. I was filled with softness and lovely feelings from all the encouragement and kind words and wonderful things you've told me.  
> This is absolute 100% fluff, but I worry that it doesn't live up to the hype I gave at the last chapters end notes. Sorry if I oversold it. 
> 
> But I hope you enjoy this until I drop another bomb into your laps :)

 

“I think I’m going to adopt a duck.”

Oikawa’s fingers stilled over the laptop’s keyboard and he slowly looked up to Suga, coming to grasps with what he just said.

“A duck?” He asked with an amused smile.

“Yes,” Suga nodded resolutely and Oikawa’s smile grew wider.

“I’m going to adopt a duck and teach it a trick.”

Oikawa was intrigued. “What kind of a trick?”

“I don’t know. Stare at a wall or something easy like that. I don’t want it to be too hard so he won’t feel bad about himself if he can’t do it.”

“You already decided it’s a “he”?”

“It could be a she too.”

“Do you have a name for it already too?”

“Yes,” Suga smiled impishly. “Shizzle Shazzle.”

Oikawa snorted and covered his mouth with his hand when he continued to laugh. This man was something else.

“Or Hiplito Il Piplit. We could shorten it to a Hip-Pip.”

Oikawa kept laughing, the sound of it flowing freely in their kitchen. He was absolutely delighted by Suga’s ideas, and he could hear Suga’s laughter join his.

“You’re so wonderfully weird.” Oikawa sighed when he calmed down.

“Thanks,” Suga beamed with dimples and bright eyes.

 

...

 

Oikawa was sitting on a pillow on the living room floor, leaning his back against a couch, facing the TV. Almost everyone from the building was in their living room with him, watching the men’s national volleyball team’s qualification game.

“Does Ushijima still play in the national team?” Iwaizumi asked. He had come alone this time, Daichi apparently working.

“Yes,” Oikawa answered with a sullen voice.

“You know him Oikawa?” Kuroo was curious.

“Sort of.” Oikawa crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn’t want to talk about Ushijima or his own past of playing volleyball.

Luckily Suga came before anyone had the chance to inquire further and he was spared from talking about his past animosity for a rival player.

Oikawa felt a light tap on his shoulder and looked behind him. Suga was smiling softly at him, offering his cell phone towards him.

“It’s for you,” Suga said and Oikawa took the phone, slightly confused about who would call him on Suga’s phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello Tooru, how are you?”

A wide smile grew on Oikawa’s lips when he recognized Akiko’s voice and he got up from the floor. “Hey.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?” Oikawa talked as he went to the kitchen so the conversation that was going in the living room wouldn’t distract him so much, or carry over to Akiko.

“Getting older,” Akiko answered, her tone suggesting that she wasn’t too broken up about that.

“But other than that, how are you?”

“I’m good, honey.” Oikawa could hear the smile in Akiko’s voice. “But I keep worrying about Koushi. That’s why I wanted to talk to you too.”

Oikawa glanced towards the living room and noticed that Suga was sitting where he had just been.

“He’s fine.”

“Mm-hm. Have you told him you love him yet?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “I’m not in love with him.”

“Okay, have you told him that you like him?”

“Akiko-san,” Oikawa sighed. She seemed to get what he meant with the exasperated sigh.

“Alright, I’m sorry.” Akiko sighed softly too.

“Did you really want to talk to me because you’re worried about Suga-chan?”

“Yes. Koushi really is fine?”

“He is,” Oikawa swore.

“And you’re telling me the truth?”

“Of course. Why would I lie?” He really was puzzled. Why on Earth would he lie to her?

“You wouldn’t, I’m just making sure.”

“He really is fine.”

“Are you talking about me?” Suga called from the living room.

Oikawa grinned widely as an answer to Suga before he spoke to Akiko. “See?”

Akiko giggled softly at the other end of the call.

“I believe you. So, how are your studies going?” She asked with more pep in her voice.

“It’s going.”

“When are you graduating?”

“In April, I hope.”

Sudden laughter burst out in the living room, drawing Oikawa’s focus and he missed what Akiko said. His eyes were instantly watching Suga and his happy expression, the way he tilted his head back as he laughed freely.

“Tooru?”

Oikawa dropped his eyes to the floor immediately, away from Suga. “Sorry, I got distracted. We’re having people over to watch a volleyball game.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Akiko laughed lightly. “I was just asking if you’re planning on having some sort of party when you graduate.”

“I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“I’d love to throw you one.”

Akiko’s kind words stopped him. She wanted to...? She actually wanted to come and throw a party to celebrate his graduation?

“Are you being serious?” Oikawa asked softly, careful not to believe it to be true yet. No one had wanted to celebrate his accomplishments for years.

“Of course, darling. I’m really proud of you already. And getting your MA is a very big milestone. It should be celebrated.”

Oikawa was stunned. He had truly forgotten what it felt like to be loved unconditionally.

“Thank you,” he said from the bottom of his heart. Who would have thought that something like this could humble Oikawa Tooru?

“You’re welcome.” Oikawa heard her smile in her voice. “Does that mean that I can do it?”

“Yes, yes, it does.”

Akiko laughed lightly again, at his rushed assent. “Good. Let me know closer to April on any particulars you might have in mind.”

“I will. Thank you again. This is almost unbelievably sweet of you.” Almost, because he could easily believe that she would absolutely do this, and unbelievable because he was certain it would be, for anyone else to do something like this for him.

“You should thank Koushi too. It was his idea initially.”

Oikawa looked over to Suga again. “Really?”

“Yes.” Akiko answered evenly. “He mentioned it around Christmas.”

Oikawa kept observing Suga with this new knowledge in his mind. Around Christmas? When he had put up the snowflakes? How could someone with easy teasing and biting wit be this sweet too? Suga must really care about him, more than he had realized.

“I won’t keep you longer. Give my love for everyone.” Akiko said and Oikawa blinked himself from his thoughts.

“I will,” he promised. “Take care of yourself.”

“And good luck on your studies.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Akiko said her goodbye as well and Oikawa ended the call.

He observed the easygoing scene in the living room, his eyes going back to Suga again, before he went back.

“Here,” Oikawa said, giving the phone back to Suga.

Suga looked up to him. “What did she want?” He asked with open curiosity.

“Ask me how I’m doing, how my studies are going.” Oikawa decided to keep his answer vague, although, that was the gist of their conversation. He had a feeling that Suga hadn’t wanted him to know that he had suggested the graduation party idea to his mother. Otherwise he would have mentioned it already.

Suga nodded, taking back his phone.

“Who are you talking about?” Bokuto asked.

“My mom,” Suga answered, dropping his phone on the coffee table in front of him.

“And she didn’t say hi to us?” Bokuto grumbled, looking a little hurt.

“She sent her love to all of you.” Oikawa placated. Bokuto, and everyone else, looked immediately appeased and Oikawa turned back to Suga.

“You’re in my seat,” he pointed out to the man. There wasn’t much space left in their living room with 14 people occupying every available chair, couch and place on the floor.

 Suga flashed an impish smile. “Tough.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” Oikawa said casually and sat down in Suga’s lap. He let out a little “unf” sound when Oikawa’s weight settled on his legs, but didn’t object in any other way, accepting his fate.

“I can’t see the TV from behind you.” Suga said after a moment, his words falling under the cacophony of the easy conversation and cheers when their team scored a point or wails when the opposing team did.

“Tough.” Oikawa parroted Suga’s word with a smug smile he knew the man couldn’t see and he felt a light slap on his arm. He retaliated by wiggling a little, as if he was settling even more comfortably.

“Can you move just a little?” Suga asked, nudging Oikawa forward a bit, and he obliged, falling to sit between Suga’s legs.

“Thank you,” Suga said and brought his right knee up next to Oikawa, who instinctively leaned lightly against it. “Now I can see too.”

Oikawa’s breath hitched and stopped for a second when he felt Suga’s chin to rest over his shoulder. He let his breath out slowly, collecting his wits back and leaned more heavily against Suga’s chest.

It took a moment – a wonderful, warm and tingly moment – for Oikawa to realize that everyone had fallen silent in the living room, and everyone’s eyes were on the two of them.

“What?” He asked warily, looking from one face to the other.

“Nothing,” Iwaizumi answered, his expression impassive, and he turned to look at the game again, everyone following his example.

 _Great,_ Oikawa thought. Now everyone was going to think there was something going on with him and Suga, that he had a thing for Suga.

But did it matter what everyone thought? Did it matter, when he knew that he wasn’t _in love_ with Suga?

It just bothered him sometimes to see Suga close and comfortable with others, hugging and being affectionate with them.

“What the hell is the coach thinking?” Kuroo exclaimed, gesturing with his hand towards the TV with frustration. “You don’t put that idiot in to do a pinch serve.”

“It’s only the first set.” Bokuto shrugged. “So we lose this one, it doesn’t mean that we’ll lose the game.”

“It’s still a stupid move.” Hanamaki agreed with Kuroo.

It would seem that everyone had forgotten, or maybe just decided to ignore, the sudden closeness he and Suga were exhibiting in favor of the game. 

And Oikawa decided that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought about his supposed feelings towards Suga, if he even had any of them. Just because he sometimes resented that everyone was so adamant to seek comfort from Suga, didn’t mean that he felt any deeper feelings towards the man. Not when he was mainly acting just like everyone else was with Suga.

“Are you okay?” Suga whispered when Oikawa tried to focus on the game as well, trying to disregard the way he could feel Suga’s breath ghost against his neck.

“Why?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” Suga said in a gentle hush.

Oh

Oikawa closed his eyes and took another steadying breath, willing his heartbeat to calm down.

“Just excited about the game,” he answered with a lie, opening his eyes again to see the reason for the groans everyone voiced when the team lost the first set.

His heart seemed unwilling to listen to him, though, and kept beating fast.

_Fuck_

Maybe it would be easier to convince his heart if he knew for certain that Suga didn’t, or would never, feel the same way about him. But with everyone’s insistence that there might be a chance, because they kept mentioning and teasing him that he liked Suga, it seemed impossible.

 

...

 

It was yet again another unremarkable day in January and Suga was going through his calendar, chewing his bottom lip absent-mindedly. It was suspiciously empty of anything, except for the time and place for tomorrow he had put down in red ink.

He sighed and pushed himself away from his desk.

On one hand, it was good that he had Takeda to handle the selling of his photos, but on the other hand it wasn’t, because it meant that he had to go to boring meetings.

Suga knew he had that one really good button down somewhere... And he remembered that he hadn’t washed it since the last time he wore it when he passed by his hamper.

It was mostly empty, but there the shirt was.

He kind of wanted to wear it to the meeting, but he’d need to wash it, and he didn’t have enough for a full load of laundry.

Maybe Oikawa had something he could throw in with his clothes.

 

-

 

“Oikawa?” Suga knocked on his open room door.

“Yeah?” He asked, leaning back in his chair to see Suga.

“Sorry to bother you.”

“That’s okay.” Oikawa smiled. “Do you need something?”

“I’m doing some laundry because I need to wash a shirt but I don’t have enough laundry to fill the machine and I don’t want to run it half empty. Do you have anything I could wash with mine?”

“I think so.” Oikawa swiveled in his chair and got up.

“How’s the dissertation going?”

Oikawa looked back to Suga as he made his way to his hamper. “Alright, I think. Slow.”

“You’re still graduating this spring, though?”

“That’s the plan. Even if it kills me.”

“I hope it doesn’t.” Suga sounded sincere and Oikawa was pleased.

“Why do you need to only wash one shirt?”

“It’s for this meeting Takeda invited me to.”

“What kind of a meeting?” Oikawa kept interviewing Suga at the same time that he fished some clothes out of his hamper.

“It’s with a buyer. I don’t know much about it, to be honest.”

“A buyer is a good thing, right?”

“I guess.”

Oikawa smiled with amusement. Of course Suga would put down the significance of an important meeting that had something to do with his art. He glanced over his shoulder to see Suga’s expression and saw him looking around his room, not really focusing on anything in particular. Oikawa belatedly realized that Suga hadn’t been in his room before, not really.

“You know, Suga-chan, I’ve been wondering for a while now, but,” Oikawa spoke as he made his way to Suga. “How serious are you about your art?”

“It’s not art.” Suga answered, looking straight into his eyes. “Does that answer your question?”

“No.” Oikawa shook his head, dropping the clothes he had picked to wash into the laundry basket Suga was holding. “You really don’t think its art?”

“It’s just photos.” Suga shrugged.

“Not to your buyers.”

Suga flashed a small smile. “I’ll let you get back to your studies,” he said, turning away.

“Thanks for doing some of my laundry too.” Oikawa called after him.

“You’re welcome.”

He heard Suga say back as he sat back down by his laptop. And he found it first a little hard to focus back on his dissertation, wondering whether Suga had been serious. Did he really not see his photos as art?

Maybe he could do something to convince him otherwise.

But it wasn’t the time for that now.

Now, he had other things to finish first. Things with deadlines.

 

...

 

It was already late evening when Oikawa emerged from his room. Suga had long ago finished the laundry he had done and he was currently lounging on a couch in the living room, watching a movie, because according to his suspiciously empty calendar, he had nothing else to do.

He kept wondering almost every day, how Oikawa had the stamina to study hours on end, the mental aptitude and will to devote his full focus on his studies for such long periods of time.

“What are you watching?” Oikawa asked behind him and Suga tilted his head to look at the man over the armrest.

Oikawa really did look like he had been studying for hours – his hair was slightly rumpled and knotted, his eyes were tired and he was dressed in comfortable sweats and an old-looking t-shirt Suga had seen on him numerous times. It must be his favorite, Suga thought.

“Some horror movie thriller thing,” he answered. “I’m not really sure. Did Iwaizumi text you to take a break?”

“Maybe,” Oikawa answered and when Suga noticed the small smile on his lips, he turned his head back to see the TV.

“Do you want to watch too?” He offered. “It just started, you haven’t really missed anything.”

“Hmm...” Oikawa seemed to consider it. “What is it with you and horror movies, Suga-chan?” He asked and casually, like he’d done it hundreds of times already, lied down on the couch between Suga’s legs and against his chest.

“Oikawa,” Suga bit down his amused smile and checked it out of his tone, “what are you doing?”

He really didn’t mind that Oikawa was leaning against him and he didn’t have the heart to pretend to be annoyed or tease him about it. Not when he kind of wanted Oikawa to stay where he was.

“What? You’re like a body-pillow.” Oikawa explained, unfazed, and Suga sputtered a little. He was sure he was nothing like a body-pillow.

“A bony body-pillow, but still.” Oikawa continued with an audible smirk as he settled more comfortably between his legs. “And you’re warm,” Oikawa mused. “It’s nice.”

Suga felt a soft smile grow on his lips.

“This is nice,” Suga agreed and concentrated back on the movie.

It didn’t take long for Suga’s fingers to find their way into Oikawa’s hair. He marveled the silky and soft texture of his hair and it was impossible to stop carding his fingers through once he had started.

And Oikawa certainly didn’t seem to mind the attention Suga was giving him, as he kept humming here and there whenever Suga changed the way he was moving his fingers.

“Is this a horror movie or an alien movie?” Oikawa interrupted the calm atmosphere surrounding them, the few snowflakes still remaining hanging from the ceiling making it seem like the time had stopped moving.

“I think it’s both,” Suga mused.

“When I was a kid, I wished that the alien who found my balloon became happy.”

“That’s sweet,” Suga admitted, smiling fondly at the memory Oikawa voiced that seemed to have come out of nowhere. His fingers were sliding easily through Oikawa’s silky hair, pulling it back over and over again.

“Your hair’s growing long.”

“I haven’t gotten it cut in ages.”

“I bet you could pull it into a ponytail soon.”

“I’m not planning on growing it that long.”

“I don’t mean a ponytail or a bun like Asahi’s.” Suga said absently, focusing more on what his fingers were doing now than on the movie, combing Oikawa’s hair into the smallest ponytail that ever existed. “I mean a small one, high over here.”

Oikawa hummed, the sound content and pleased. Suga wondered if it really was because of his fingers that kept lightly stroking his hair.

“Do you have a thing for ponytails?” Oikawa asked, bringing Suga back from his thoughts.

“Not really,” Suga answered truthfully. “I just find them cute, that’s all.” He kept combing Oikawa’s hair into the small ponytail and then letting it drop, just to do it again.

“Did you ever think about growing your own hair long enough to pull it into a ponytail?”

“No, it’s not really me.” Suga changed his fingers' movement, and just lightly caressed over Oikawa’s hair.

Oikawa let a small contented sigh with the change.

“Daichi suggested it once though.” Suga remembered. “Years ago.”

Oikawa didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes and Suga was sure the man was following the movie a lot more closely than he was.

“Can I ask something that I’ve been wondering about you two?”

Or maybe he had been following on another train of thought altogether.

“Sure,” Suga answered easily.

“Did you ever date?”

“No.”

“No?”

“He’s always been a friend.”

“Did you ever have sex with him?”

“No,” Suga laughed, but continued earnestly. “He’s just a friend. My best friend. There was never more than that.”

“Did you ever _want_ to sleep with him?” Oikawa’s voice sounded measured.

“No.”

Oikawa sighed again, but this time from... Relief? Maybe?

“He’s not really my type.”

“I know. You’re all hot for tall men, lean muscles and gentle hands.”

Suga’s hands stilled in Oikawa’s hair. How did he know?

He was sure he had never told that to Oikawa. But Daichi would know. Had he told Oikawa?

And if Oikawa knew what he liked, did he also know about Suga’s past crush on him?

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Suga cleared his throat. “Just wondering how you knew about that.”

“I’ve met Akaashi and Terushima. It was easy to draw a conclusion. I didn’t actually think I’d be so spot on.”

“Hmm...” Suga mused, his fingers continuing their ministrations in Oikawa’s hair. “You’re really observant. I’m not that surprised that you got there.”

Oikawa’s hand moved on Suga’s knee, squeezing his thigh just over the knee.

“Do you want to know what I like?” Oikawa turned his head a little to the side, but Suga was certain he couldn’t see him.

“I’m guessing men with dark hair, serious expressions and beautiful eyes.”

“Not really,” Oikawa shook his head.

“Oh.”

“Do you want to know?” Oikawa asked again, a hint of teasing in his tone.

“No,” Suga answered and brought his hands together over Oikawa’s chest. He didn’t want to know, because he didn’t want to be disappointed in any case, whether to know how far off he had been with his guess, or how close the description would hit home. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course, Suga-chan.”

Suga could hear the smile in Oikawa’s voice, but he didn’t start thinking too hard on what caused it. He made a distracted mental note of feeling how fast Oikawa’s heart was beating under his hands when they both fell quiet.

“When is your meeting with Takeda?” Oikawa once again interrupted the fast paced action of the thriller they were watching. Suga didn’t mind, the movie was all over the place and a bit hard to follow.

“Tomorrow.”

“Do you want to hear a helpful piece of wisdom that I heard from Mattsun?”

“No,” Suga answered quickly, remembering the night they had played Twister. “I heard when he told you.”

Oikawa chuckled and Suga could feel the way Oikawa’s body shook and trembled with it against his body.

“I really don’t need to think about that tomorrow.” Suga said and Oikawa kept quietly chuckling. “He’s ruined meeting new people for me for the rest of my life. I may have to pay him back for that.”

“I fully encourage that.” Oikawa calmed down to say. “Let me know when you do, because I want to witness it.”

“I will,” Suga promised and twisted his hands together, thus bringing them closer against Oikawa’s body. He felt Oikawa’s chest swell with a deep breath that he held for a moment before he let it out.

“I will,” he said again, feeling the need to steady his own breathing too.

 

...

 

Suga’s meeting with Takeda and the buyer didn’t go well and he was walking home with a bottle of sake. It had been months since the last time he had drunk anything alcoholic, but he really felt like he needed some now. Not to forget anything or make it easier to cope with, but just to drink.

He didn’t even mind if he’d be doing the drinking alone. Although, it could be fun to do it with Oikawa. He had promised that Oikawa could see him drunk one day. Today could be that day.

But it seemed that his plan would have to wait for another day, since Oikawa wasn’t home. Suga wondered if he should check where the man was, but decided against it. He figured that Oikawa was concentrating on his dissertation, or otherwise studying, and he didn’t want to distract him.

So, he settled on the living room floor, on one of the pillows, alone with the bottle of sake he had remembered to heat up a little first.

He was cautious of the overall amount he was going to drink, knowing fully well how easily alcohol affected him. He knew how affectionate he could get with his friends when he was drunk. And because he didn’t drink often, he wasn’t that used to the after effects and really wasn’t looking forward to spending the next day feeling miserable.

While he drank alone, he kept hoping that Oikawa would come home soon. It could take another forever for him to get drunk again and he didn’t want Oikawa to miss it now.

When he heard a soft knock from the door, he looked to it hopefully, belatedly realizing that Oikawa wouldn’t knock.

A second later, when the door opened, Akaashi came in.

“Hey Akaashi,” he smiled brightly. “How are you?” At least he didn’t have to keep drinking alone.  

Akaashi stopped mid-step, studying him for a moment.

“Are you alright?” He asked when he continued on his way to the kitchen.

“I’m fine.”  

“You’re drinking.” Akaashi pointed out, searching for something in the tall cupboard.

“So?” Suga’s smile dropped.

“You don’t really drink.” Akaashi turned back to look at him with a wine bottle in his hand. “Ever,” he added, going for a wine glass next.

Suga looked down to the glass in his hand, following with his eyes the way the alcohol moved in it as he turned the glass around. “I thought I’d give it a try.”

“And how is it?”

“It’s excellent.” Suga answered dreamily, closing his eyes and leaning his head into his hand that he had propped up on the coffee table. He could hear Akaashi’s steps as he came to the living room and sat down across from him.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“No,” Suga sighed softly and emptied his glass. “Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Suga,” Akaashi said and when he didn’t continue, Suga opened his eyes to look at him.

“You never drink. Something’s bothering you.”

Suga looked into Akaashi’s calm eyes, the patience in him making the room seem still in middle of the whirlwind surrounding everything.

“You know I’m a good listener.” Akaashi added, and Suga did know that. He also knew that Akaashi had limitless patience, and he would just sit and wait for Suga to talk.

He sighed and poured more sake. “I had a meeting with a buyer.”

“How did it go?” Akaashi asked kindly, his tone suggesting for Suga to continue.

“Not well.”

“He didn’t buy anything?”

“I wouldn’t sell.”

“How come?”

“He wants to buy some of my photos and mass-produce them and sell them in their stores across the country.”

“Okay...” Akaashi said slowly. “To me, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“He started the conversation by saying that he wants to buy ‘these six pictures, because they haven’t sold as well as my other photos have’. And he wants to sell them for 2000 yen a piece.”

“I can see why you’d take that as a slap to the face.”

“I know I could make a lot of money with this, but I don’t feel right selling my photos for a fraction of their worth.”

“I know.”

“So, I suggested that they could buy these photos from me and sell them, if my name wasn’t attached to them. He wouldn’t go for that, insisting that my name is what would sell them and there was no use of him buying the rights for these photos, if people didn’t know I’d taken them.”

“I get why you’re drinking now.”

“Right?” Suga smiled brightly again. “Why are you drinking?”

“It’s Thursday,” Akaashi shrugged, sipping his wine. “And I needed a break from studying.”

“Don’t you have wine in your own apartment?”

“No, I finished the last of it yesterday and I didn’t feel like going out to buy some now. I’ll reimburse you for this.”

“No need.” Suga shook his head. “I really only keep the wine for you anyway.”

Akaashi smiled just a fraction.

“How’s it going with your thesis?” Suga asked to change the subject, although Akaashi had already indirectly introduced it.

“I actually have a favor to ask you about that.”

“Okay,” Suga leaned back against his hands on the floor.

“I have to come up with a fake problem or a situation a fake patient is going through, and help the patient to solve it. Could you be that fake patient?”

“What would I need to do?” Suga wanted to make sure it was something he could manage before he agreed to it.

“Nothing really. Just come up with a fake problem to talk about. I can come up with it too. And you’d just have to talk to me about it, while I mainly just listen.”

“A fake therapy session?”

“Yes.”

“That sounds alright.”

“It’s a long project though. Five weeks. We’d meet twice a week, you’d talk and I’d listen.”

“I think I could do that.”

“Great, thanks.”

“How come you didn’t ask Bokuto?”

“I did. He refused.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he got really anxious about the” using it in my thesis” part. He got really worried that he’d mess up with talking about the problem and it would mess up my thesis.”

Suga smiled softly, happy for his friend. “It’s sweet how he cares about that.”

Akaashi nodded, agreeing with him.

“When do we start with the “appointments”?”

“Is Monday okay?”

Suga thought for a moment, trying to figure out if he already had something for that day, the task taking longer than usual because of the alcohol he had already consumed.

“Monday’s fine,” he answered, the image of an empty day in his calendar coming to him gradually.

“Good,” Akaashi nodded again. “Do you want me to come up with something for you to talk about?”

“No, I already have something in my mind.” Suga answered. This could be a perfect opportunity to talk through the conflicting emotions he had lately experienced and stopped him when he was in the presence of a certain person.

“It really can be any bullshit you come up with.” Akaashi nodded his consent and drank more wine.

“Got it.” Suga nodded as well and poured more sake for himself. “How are you and Bokuto doing?” He asked then, not to fill the silence, but because he was honestly interested to know, and a little worried for them.

“We’re good.”

Suga waited for a moment for Akaashi to continue, but for naught.

“Bokuto was really worried after New Year. He said you were distracted.”

“Just school stuff.” Akaashi explained offhandedly.

“Are you sure that’s all?”

“If I say no, will you give me a hug?”

Suga smiled and started to crawl over to Akaashi’s side of the coffee table. He wrapped his arms around Akaashi from his side. “Is something wrong then?”

“No, I just wanted a hug from you.”

Suga chuckled a little and he felt Akaashi join with his soundless light laughter. He punched Akaashi lightly on his stomach.  

“Are you good, for real?” He tilted his head to the side to see Akaashi’s face.

“I am.” Akaashi answered soberly and sipped his wine. “Thanks for the hug.”

“You’re welcome,” Suga smiled happily. The alcohol he had drunk was starting to really affect him. He could already feel his emotions softening and his need for physical closeness growing. He studied Akaashi’s slightly curling hair with pursed lips.

“How are you doing, really?” Akaashi asked in turn.

“I’m good,” Suga smiled again with his answer. “Despite the latest upset with the buyer, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be over it in a matter of minutes.”

He reached for his glass, adding meaning to his words and Akaashi huffed lightly with amusement.

They drank in the living room for a while longer, catching up with each other’s day, until Akaashi had to go back to studying.

Suga was certain he had drunk enough when he didn’t care about the meeting anymore, and he decided to pass his time by watching silly youtube videos and daydreaming about cute boyband members until Oikawa came home.

 

...

 

Oikawa had spent most of his day in the library, researching for his dissertation. When he got home, Suga was in his room, behind a closed door and he decided to let the man be.

It was his turn to make dinner anyway. Not that they had official “turns” on any given day, but he felt like he should make something for them, since Suga had done most of the cooking the past weeks.

Oikawa had a good reason for skipping on helping Suga. He had been busy writing, but the guilt of leaving the cooking for Suga was catching up with him and he wanted to make up for it.

The kitchen filled with sounds of his chopping and boiling water and delicious smells, and he wasn’t surprised that Suga emerged fairly quickly after he had just started.

“You’re home,” Suga greeted happily.

“I’m home.” Oikawa stated and ran the knife under a stream of water to clean it.

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve helped you with the food.”

“No, it was my turn to cook.”

“We don’t have turns.” Suga pointed out, and Oikawa did know that.

“Still, I felt like I should cook today.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Suga said and jumped to sit on the counter.

“No live meat on the counter.” Oikawa said and pushed on Suga’s thigh to make him jump down. Suga persisted against the push.

“I’ll do what I want,” he insisted adamantly.

Oikawa’s brow furrowed infinitesimally. “Okay,” he said, regarding Suga for a moment, but decided to let it go.

Until something hit his cheek. He turned to look at Suga as he realized what had just happened.

Suga was grinning and Oikawa was stunned that he had just. Thrown. Something. At him.

“That was fun.” Suga said happily. “Can I throw another one?” He looked down at the chopped vegetables and started to reach for one.

“No.” Oikawa grabbed his arm gently, stopping him.

Suga pouted, but he didn’t look too disappointed.

A small crease appeared on Oikawa’s brow again in confusion and puzzlement, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared, when he realized.

“Are you drunk?” He asked with a hopeful note in his voice, already getting a little excited by that possibility.

“No.”

“Yes you are.”

“Yes I am.” Suga’s smile was mischievous.

“I’ve never seen you drunk before.” Oikawa mused out loud, barely containing his excitement that this day had finally come, marveling his opportunity to see Suga drunk.

Suga only shrugged, nonplussed, like this wasn’t a big deal for him. “I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Oikawa chuckled at the man’s nonchalance and turned to add the vegetable to the pan that was heating up on the stove.

“I’m bored,” Suga announced suddenly.

“Is that why you’re drunk? You got bored?” Oikawa asked, his back still turned to the other man as the stirred.

“No,” Suga answered, his tone and giggle suggesting that Oikawa was being silly asking that. “I’m drunk because there was sake and I wanted to drink the sake.”

Oikawa turned to look at Suga. His smile was wide and his eyes big and he was happily swinging his legs back and forth.

“How much did you drink?”

Suga’s expression changed to thoughtful as he seemed to try to remember how much he had drunk. His face opened and brightened like he had experienced an a-ha moment.

“We should have ice cream,” Suga said with a bright smile. Apparently he was a happy drunk who had the strangest associations in his head. It was endearing.

“Can we have ice cream?” He looked hopefully at Oikawa.

Oikawa suppressed his chuckle. “No.”

Suga’s face fell into a pout. “Why not?”

It was almost petulant and Oikawa tried not to laugh. He had never witnessed Suga like this and he was really enjoying himself.  Probably more than he should.

“Because we don’t have any,” he explained.

Suga pouted for a few more seconds before his face cleared and opened into a wide smile again.

“Hey! Let’s go to the zoo!”

“The zoo?”

“I want to go say hi to my friends!”

Oikawa laughed out loud, unable to contain it anymore. “Do your friends live in the zoo?”

“Yes!”

Oikawa pressed his hand in front of his mouth to try and contain his laughter.

“Suga, you’re my favorite person,” he said serenely, his laughter held for the moment.

Suga looked happy and proud to hear it. “I am?”

“Definitely,” Oikawa nodded. He turned to put a lid on the pan that was simmering on the stove and started to walk away from the kitchen with a happy smile on his lips. Suga was something else and he had a feeling there was no one else like him in the world.

Suga grabbed the back of Oikawa’s shirt when he was walking past him, stopping him. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom.”

“No, you can’t go.” Suga shook his head seriously.

Oikawa bit his lip so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. There was something in Suga’s serious expression and tone that seemed too overdone, but there was sincerity in them too that countered it and Oikawa understood that Suga really was being serious.

“Why not?” He asked, trying to school his happy smile so he’d look like he was taking Suga as seriously as the man appeared to be.

“Because there’s water there,” Suga said ominously.

Now Oikawa did burst out laughing over the truly grave and distressed look on Suga’s face.

“Do you know what happens if I get into water?” Suga continued. “I melt.”

Oikawa couldn’t stop laughing.

“I melt in water Oikawa.”

“Okay,” Oikawa hiccupped with his laughter, trying to speak. He put his hands on Suga’s shoulders, fitting himself to stand between Suga’s legs.

“Wait here,” he pressed his words with his hands and bit his lip again to stop laughing. “I’ll be right back.”

Suga was still holding onto Oikawa’s shirt. “Will you melt in there?” He looked genuinely troubled and worried that this was a possibility.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Okay,” Suga nodded and let go of Oikawa’s shirt as an excited smile broke out on his face again. “Can we have ice cream when you get back?”

Oikawa laughed. “I’ll be just a minute.”

 _Holy shit,_ Oikawa thought. Iwaizumi and Daichi had criminally undersold how adorable and absolutely wonderful Suga could be when he was drunk.

He did quick work of his bathroom break and went quickly back to the kitchen.

Suga was still sitting on the counter – swinging his legs and swaying a little in place from side to side. When he noticed Oikawa, he didn’t seem to waste any time, but jumped off the counter and wrapped his arms around Oikawa, pressing his chest against Oikawa’s back.

“Suga?” Oikawa asked, stunned again. “Are you okay?”

“You just looked like you could do with a hug,” Suga explained.

Oh, he was most definitely drunk. Like there had even been any doubt about that.

No matter what Oikawa did from that point onwards, Suga kept himself draped on his back – arms around his shoulders and a cheek pressed against his shoulder blade – like a koala.

 

Oikawa couldn’t stop smiling.

 

There was a fleeting distraught thought and worry that Suga wouldn’t remember any of this the next morning, but he reasoned it away. He could remind Suga of it. He could remind Suga how he kept clinging on to him, how he walked behind him no matter where he went, how he almost fell asleep against his back when they were sitting sideways on the couch watching another silly horror/monster movie.

 

Oikawa felt lucky to have been in the receiving end of so much affection. And that no one had come to their apartment that evening to disturb them.

 

...

 

Suga woke up the next morning early again. He had a faint memory of going to sleep, but he had no idea how late it had been by then.

He sat up slowly, his eyes puffy and head a little fuzzy.

At least he remembered that he had drunk some sake last night. Not much, a little, but apparently enough to cause the heaviness in his limbs. He wasn’t worried that he didn’t remember much else. He always came back slowly when he was detoxing from the alcohol.

He stood up next, finally waking up fully as he stretched his arms high above his head. The room felt cold after the warmth he had been cocooned in in his bed and he pulled on the first long-sleeved shirt he found.

He dragged his feet to the kitchen, squinting against the brightness of the ceiling lamp, surprised to see Oikawa there already.

“What’s wrong?” Suga asked when Oikawa froze with his cup in mid-air.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s just...” Oikawa brought his cup down on the island carefully, his eyes following the movement before they fixed to look straight into Suga’s eyes. “You’re wearing my sweatshirt,” he finished his sentence with a soft smile.

“Oh.”

Suga looked down at what he was wearing. He remembered that he had washed a mix set of his and Oikawa’s clothes the other day. He had honestly just grabbed the first shirt that was in the pile of clean laundry in his room, unthinking of whose it was.

“Sorry, I didn’t even notice. I’ll take it off.”

“No!” Oikawa practically shouted, a hand shooting towards Suga before he had the chance to make a move towards his bedroom. “It’s fine. You don’t need to change.” Oikawa continued with his voice closer to its normal level.

“Are you sure? Because I can go change it.” Suga looked at Oikawa with uncertainty.

“Really, it’s fine.” Oikawa assured with a confident smile.

Suga regarded him for a moment.

“I’m going to change out of it,” he decided anyway, and left the kitchen.

Back in his room, changing into another sweatshirt he made sure was really his, Suga wondered on Oikawa’s behavior. Why had he seemed so adamant about the shirt? It couldn’t be because he liked seeing Suga in it, could it?

“You really didn’t need to change,” Oikawa said when Suga got back to the kitchen.

“Well, I felt a little weird wearing your shirt,” Suga admitted.

“How did you even get it?”

“Remember when I asked you for some laundry?”

“Oh,” Oikawa seemed to understand. “Right.”

“I’ll separate them later today.”

“There’s no hurry,” Oikawa spoke against his mug before he took a sip. “How did your meeting go yesterday?”

“Not well.” Suga answered, his back turned towards Oikawa as he made himself a cup of coffee as well.

“Sorry.”

Suga turned to see Oikawa again, stirring the mix of coffee and milk in his cup. “It’s fine. I don’t think it was that important anyway.”

He really didn’t think so. Even Takeda had been upset with the buyer about his offer.

“Was the meeting why you got drunk?”

“No, I just felt like it.” Suga shrugged. He really was over the whole thing by now.

Oikawa hummed shortly, looking like he was thinking hard about something. “Is this going to be a normal occurrence from here on out? You getting drunk?”

“No, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. It was fun to see you drunk.” Oikawa smirked. “You were kind of cute.”

“Don’t tell me I sang “Soft Kitty” to you too.” Suga groaned softly.

“No, there was no singing.” Oikawa shook his head. “But you had a wonderful theory on why the bartender in Star Wars didn’t want the droids in his bar.”

Suga tried to think back but couldn’t remember anything about Star Wars from last night.

“I did?”

Oikawa nodded, leaning his chin on his hand.

Suga really didn’t remember.

“Is there anything I should apologize for or be embarrassed about?” Suga thought it was important to ask. He didn’t want there to be any awkwardness between them, especially since he apparently had drunk more than he should have.

“No,” Oikawa smiled softly and Suga couldn’t look away. “We’re good.”

“Okay, good,” Suga sighed from relief and wrenched his eyes from Oikawa’s smile with effort.

He went over to the island and sat next to Oikawa. He could feel Oikawa following his moving with his eyes until he crossed his arms over the island and leaned his head against them.

“How are you feeling?” Oikawa asked, his hand caressing Suga’s hair in the already familiar way.

“Fuzzy. I’m not hungover though.”

“That’s good.”

“I don’t really get hungover, ever, no matter how much I drink.”

Oikawa was silent for a moment, his hand keeping up with the caressing, before he spoke.  

“That’s really unfair.”

Suga chuckled at Oikawa’s grumble and lifted his head up, Oikawa’s hand falling away.

“By the way, was anyone else here last night?” Suga leaned his head in his hand, mirroring Oikawa’s position.

“No.”

“Really? Did you lock the door?”

“No, it was open.”

“Hmm...”

“What?”

Suga took a big breath before he answered. “That’s already the second day just this week that no one came.” He wondered why that was, and what it meant as he drank his coffee.  

“That’s weird.” Oikawa seemed to agree with him.

 

...

 

Oikawa was struggling with focusing on his dissertation. The image of Suga in his sweatshirt had made an indelible impression on him and he kept coming back to it again and again. He physically shook his head, tilted it from side to side and rolled his shoulders in an effort to rid him from the image of Suga _wearing his shirt_ and tried to continue with his dissertation.

It was impossible.

Oikawa sighed and leaned back on the chair, tipping his head back and his gaze up to the ceiling. His midnight blue sweatshirt had been just a tad too big on Suga and he had looked too adorable in it, still a little sleepy so early in the morning.

He thoroughly wished that Suga hadn’t changed out of the shirt, but why would he want to prolong the tightening in his stomach, Oikawa had no idea. Unless...

Oikawa sighed again and leaned forward, his face hidden in his hands, thinking once again, if maybe everyone had been right? Maybe he really was into...

His phone beeped, interrupting his thoughts and he glanced at the message he received.

 

_Can we meet?_

 

Oikawa picked up his phone, his mind already racing on possible scenarios of what Kageyama would want. It pushed his thought on Suga to the side. How was it possible that everytime he and Suga seemed to get closer, Kageyama wanted to meet?

 

_Just coffee_

_I want to explain_

 

He could do that. Coffee was easy. Besides, he kind of wanted to hear what Kageyama had to say.

He sent a text, agreeing to a coffee, but only coffee.

He should see this thing with Kageyama to the end, and if it meant having coffee with the man, he should definitely do that. But that would be it.

His mind was still replaying everything from last night, reminding him how wonderful it had felt to have Suga pressed close against his back, his arms tight around him.

 

Oh, fuck

 

It had felt really good. Too good.

Oikawa was so screwed. He hated having crushes.

And his crush on Suga? If he really was having one, would certainly be the cause of his death.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lies on a floor in a sugar coma*
> 
> I just couldn't help the soft thoughts my brain kept coming up with... 
> 
> to be continued:  
> (there are so many things I want to put here, let's go with this one)  
> “You just accept the choices you’ve made and live with them. You move on.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much talk and silence in this chapter... *sighs*
> 
> I just have one thing really, to say before you continue reading  
>  **I'M SORRY** in advance for how I end the chapter  
>  It's nothing to warn anyone about, I'm just sorry

 

Oikawa leaned his shoulder against Suga’s doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his chest, to observe what on Earth Suga was doing.

The man in question was lying on his back on his bed, his right leg in the air. He tilted his head a little to the side as he looked at his leg and brought his left leg in the air when he dropped his right down on the bed. He looked at it too, and brought his right leg up again, next to the left one.

What was he doing?

Oikawa pretended that his eyes hadn’t fixated on the way Suga’s cut off sweats had slid down his legs, exposing a lot of skin.

Suga repeated the lifting, looking, and dropping of his legs a couple more times and an amused smile spread on Oikawa’s lips as he kept observing.

“What are you doing?” He had to, just _had to,_ ask, alerting Suga that he wasn’t alone anymore.

Suga promptly dropped his legs to the bed when he heard him. “Nothing.”

Oikawa withdrew himself from the doorframe and went to the bed with a smirk. “Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing.” Suga said again, his eyes following Oikawa moving towards him.

Oikawa chuckled at the cover-up and fell face first with a sigh next to Suga on his bed. The hair on his arm rose under his long sleeves, like someone had run a current of electricity through him, with the close proximity to Suga.

“Bad day?” He heard Suga ask and there was the faintest, lightest touch of fingers running down along his arm.

Oikawa closed his eyes and took a big breath. His chest tightened when he recognized the smell of the pillow to be the same as Suga’s shampoo, and he quickly opened his eyes and turned on his back.

“No, just tired.” Oikawa answered and suppressed an honest yawn with his hand.

“You study too hard.”

“I have a deadline.”

“In three months.” Suga pointed out. “With the pace you’re keeping you’ll be dead on your feet before it’s even March.”

“I’ll be fine, Suga-chan.” Oikawa smiled a little hearing the worry in Suga’s voice. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But that’s what friends do.”

 _Yes, friends,_ Oikawa thought almost bitterly. “How was your day?” He asked, turning his head to the side to see Suga. “What did you do? Other than marvel at your legs.”

“I wasn’t marveling at them.” Suga defended himself.

“That’s what it looked like.” Oikawa said with amusement.

“I wasn’t marveling, I was – “ Suga sighed and lifted his left leg in the air and studied it for a short moment before he dropped it down. “I find my legs weird.”

Oikawa sputtered with his chuckle. “What?”

“My legs are weird.”

“Are you drunk again?”

“No, I just find my legs weird.”

Oikawa couldn’t believe what he just heard. “You find your legs weird?” He asked with utmost incredulity. He didn’t think Suga’s legs were weird.

Suga lifted them both up. “My legs are weird, aren’t they?”

“Suga-chan...” Oikawa laughed and pulled Suga’s legs from the air to rest over his hips and stomach. “Your legs aren’t weird.” He smiled fondly at Suga. “They’re paler than the moon, but not weird.” His hand was resting on Suga’s bare knee. “They’re lovely.”

Suga huffed in disagreement but didn’t say anything. He didn’t move his legs either and their weight felt almost fitting, resting over Oikawa’s hips.

They lied on the bed in a comfortable silence, both looking up at nothing. The light snowfall outside turned down the city’s noise and Oikawa felt content and warm in the peaceful feeling in Suga’s room. Without meaning it to, his thumb started to slowly and gently rub on Suga’s thigh near his knee, moving easily on the smooth skin.

“I’m going to make some tea,” Suga said suddenly, disturbing the silence.

Oikawa turned his head again to look at him and was met with Suga’s kind smile.

“Do you want some too?” Suga asked, pulling his legs away from Oikawa and getting up.

“Sure,” Oikawa answered and followed Suga to the kitchen.

His eyes studied Suga, traveling up his “weird” legs, stopping for a second on his ass before continuing on their way up along Suga’s back to his neck, to the gentle but sharp angle of his jaw he could see when Suga turned his head to look at him.

“Do you want something to eat too?”

Oikawa was glad Suga didn’t catch him staring at his ass again and adopted a charming smile on his lips. “I’m not hungry.”

“Have you eaten anything today?”

“Yes.”

Suga fixed Oikawa with such a disbelieving look that it made his smile widen.

“I really did eat and I’m not hungry.” Oikawa repeated himself as he sat down by the kitchen island, fighting the smile that was quirking up his lips. He wasn’t sure if Suga believed him, and was glad that Suga didn’t insist on it when there was a knock on their front door just before it was opened.

“Anyone home?” Oikawa heard Hinata’s voice and he looked over his shoulder to see the orange haired man walk in with his happy smile and Kenma following in his footsteps, playing something on his handheld console.

“Hey, kids,” Suga greeted the newcomers.

“Hey,” Hinata answered brightly. “Is there food?”

“Have at it.” Suga gestured to the fridge, continuing with the tea.

Oikawa watched Hinata and Kenma rifle through the tall cupboard and the fridge to find something to eat, suppressing a yawn in his hand. It was nice to see that the awkwardness Kageyama had caused wasn’t affecting the two, as they looked just as content and happy with each other as they had always seemed to Oikawa.

“Oikawa-san?” Hinata asked, interrupting Oikawa’s thoughts. “Have you heard from Kageyama since that one day?”

Oikawa glanced quickly at Suga, not really sure why, before he answered in a measured nonchalance, “I have.”

“Oh.” Hinata squeaked with surprise.

“He asked me to meet him for coffee.”

“Are you going to go?”

“Yes.”

“You are?” Suga sounded surprised and looked, to Oikawa’s surprise, disappointed. Oikawa tilted his head just a fraction and studied him as he answered.

“He said he wants to explain.”

“Oh,” Suga said and turned back to the tea.

Oikawa pondered on Suga’s reaction for a moment longer, but when he seemed to be going in circles in his own head, he moved on.

“How’s work Kenma?” Oikawa asked from the man sitting by the kitchen table now, waiting probably for whatever Hinata was making by the counter.

“I haven’t been there for a couple of days.” Kenma answered, his eyes trained on whatever he was playing.

“Why not? Were you sick?”

“I had two days off too and we had a mini-break.” Hinata answered.

“That sounds nice.” Suga commented when he came to Oikawa and set down a cup of tea for him on the kitchen island. “Here,” he continued to Oikawa with a smile before he went to the fridge as well.

“Thank you,” Oikawa said appreciatively and wrapped his hands around the warm cup.

“And eat this.” Suga said and set a yogurt in front of Oikawa as well.

“I have eaten, Suga-chan.” Oikawa said, already opening the lid.

“Still, you need to eat.” Suga said patiently, bringing a spoon for him. “Knowing you, you’re going to be pulling another all-nighter and you need energy.”

Oikawa took the offered utensil, silently grumbling, but still pleased that Suga cared about him like this. “You’re too good to me, Suga-chan,” he said around a spoonful when the man came to sit next to him.

“Hm, I know.” Suga agreed and lightly patted on Oikawa’s arm.

Oikawa watched Suga’s eyes move to look at Hinata and Kenma, who were sitting by the table and eating. He recognized the fond look in his eyes.

“You’re too good for everyone.”

Suga looked down to his cup of tea when he heard Oikawa’s compliment. Oikawa noticed how Suga was smiling, and how he took a big breath before he looked up again, his smile gone, but still looking happy.

“Thanks,” Suga said softly.

A gentle silence settled between the two of them, Suga watching Hinata and Kenma while he sipped his tea, and Oikawa watching Suga while he sipped his. Oikawa didn’t know if Suga was aware that he was being watched, and he didn’t care. It was too comfortable in the kitchen to care, with the soft conversation Hinata and Kenma were having and the overall calmness and pleasantness filling the space.

“Do you think we should take these down?” Suga poked a snowflake that was hanging from the ceiling right in front of them, his voice lofting to Oikawa to break him from his ogling.

“Well,” Oikawa shrugged, his eyes trained on the swinging snowflake. “Most of them have already fallen down.”

“True,” Suga nodded and finished his tea. “I’ll take them down and put them with the others.”

“You probably don’t need my help.” Oikawa smiled mischievously.

“I wouldn’t let you help even if you offered.” Suga went to deposit his empty cup into the sink.

“Why not?”

“It was my gift to you.” Suga answered easily. “You need to sit there,” he said and gently pressed his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, “and eat.”

“Fine,” Oikawa agreed to this. “But tell me if you want help.”

“I got it, don’t worry,” Suga smiled. “I’ll just grab some socks. My feet are getting cold.”

Oikawa didn’t follow Suga leave this time, with great effort, but he heard the soft sounds his bare feet made when he walked.

He got distracted thinking about why Suga hadn’t been wearing socks in middle of winter and didn’t hear Hinata and Kenma finish and clean up after themselves until they were saying their goodbyes.

“You’re leaving already?” Oikawa was a little surprised. Usually the two stayed to hang out when they had eaten.

“I have some school stuff to finish,” Hinata explained. “I swear it’s taking me forever to graduate.”

“And I have a design to finish for work.” Kenma said.

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded and continued to eat the yogurt he had forgotten about when he had sunk into his thoughts. “Goodnight.”

“Bye,” Hinata waved by the front door, just when it opened again.

“Oh,” Kuroo exclaimed. “Hey little ones. Going somewhere?”

“Home.” Hinata answered.

“Is everything okay?”

Kuroo might have meant the question for both of them, but his eyes were definitely pointed towards Kenma. He nodded in answer, and Oikawa noticed his hand settle on Hinata’s shoulder right before they closed the front door after them.

“You still worry about them?” Oikawa asked when Kuroo came to the kitchen as well.

“Nah, not really.” Kuroo answered easily. “They seem to be doing fine.”

Oikawa had to agree with him. Hinata and Kenma really seemed to be doing really well. Maybe their mini-break had something to do with it.

“Haven’t seen you for a couple of days.” Oikawa made an observation then, taking in the too happy appearance of Kuroo.

“I stayed with Tsukki.” Kuroo smiled widely. “What have you been up to?”

“Mostly studying.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo asked with a smirk.

Oikawa nodded his head and licked a stray drop of yogurt from his lip.

“Have you heard from your fuckbuddy?” Kuroo kept smirking and Oikawa wasn’t sure what to do about it. It wasn’t exactly unsettling, but he wasn’t pleased to see it either.

“Yes, he asked me to have coffee.” Oikawa decided to ask evenly, as if it was the most normal occurrence in history, like the fact that even though birds could fly, they sometimes walked too.

“Oh?” Kuroo leaned his arms on the kitchen island, not taking a hint of Oikawa’s tone. “Are you going?”

“Yes, but I’m not expecting much.”

“So, no quickie in the bathroom?” Kuroo suggested with a cocked eyebrow and a smug grin.

“No,” Oikawa chuckled at Kuroo’s, in his opinion, ridiculous suggestion, and ate the rest of his yogurt.

“Because of Suga?”

Oikawa tilted his head as an answer to show Kuroo he was being ridiculous to think that. “Go away Kuroo.” Oikawa pushed his shoulder to make him take a step or two towards the front door, but the man barely budged and mainly just smiled his smug smile.

“You’re really annoying sometimes.”

Kuroo cackled lightly, but it was cut short when Suga came back.

“Kuroo,” Oikawa heard Suga say and he turned to look at him. “The 1980’s called, they want their hairstyle back.”

Oikawa snickered at Suga’s comment. He turned back to Kuroo to see him looking back with a puzzled and offended expression. And then a thought must have dawned on him, if the slow smirk that grew on his lips was anything to go by.

“Was Suga drunk?” Kuroo whispered his question almost reverently.

Oikawa looked over his shoulder again to see what Suga was doing, and saw him climbing on a chair to take down the snowflakes in the living room.

“The day before yesterday.” Oikawa nodded with a smile on his lips when he turned back, remembering how wonderful the experience had been. He could hear Suga move the chair in the living room, and the rip of a tape when another snowflake was taken down.

“You were lucky to see him like that. I remember the first time I witnessed drunk-Suga.” Kuroo wasn’t whispering anymore as he reminisced. “Holy shit, he was the embodiment of sugar and happiness. It was too adorable.”

“I know what you mean.” Oikawa sighed. “He was almost unbearably cute.”

“I can hear you two.” Suga pointed out to them, a hint of a threat in his voice.

Oikawa ducked his head a little and he swore he wasn’t blushing.

Kuroo let out an amused huff. “Man, you’re falling hard for him,” he said under his breath.

“What?” Oikawa whispered back. He heard what Kuroo said, but he couldn’t decipher why he’d said it.

“Come on, you’re seriously crushing on Suga.”

Oikawa pushed again on Kuroo’s shoulder again, harder than last time and Kuroo actually took a step back, straightening away from the island and out of Oikawa’s reach.

“It’s cute,” Kuroo commented with a smirk that didn’t promise anything good, especially since he wasn’t lowering his voice anymore and there was a real threat that Suga would hear what they were saying and would want to know what they were talking about. Oikawa decided to quickly change the topic.

“How did you know Suga had been drunk?”

Well, sort of change the topic. He really wanted to know, for future reference.

“He always gets extra savage after it.” Kuroo answered, humoring Oikawa. He was aware how easily Kuroo could have continued teasing him. “I don’t know why, maybe to balance out the sweetness, or maybe because he spent all of his sugar and all that is left is spice. I don’t know.” Kuroo shrugged.

Oikawa furrowed his brow. “He doesn’t seem more savage than usual.”

“Wait, I’ll show you.” Kuroo said and called over the island to the living room. “Suga, what do you think of Oikawa’s shirt?”

Now it was Oikawa’s turn to be offended. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with his shirt and it definitely didn’t need to be called out to be criticized. He liked the alien prints on his shirt, it was whimsical, and even if he’d never wear it outside their apartment, he was rather fond of it.

It took a moment before Suga answered and Oikawa imagined him looking up towards the kitchen to pass unnecessary judgement on his shirt.

“It’s dorky,” Suga said after a few seconds, and Oikawa hid his smile behind his fingers by leaning his chin in his palm.

“See?” Kuroo asked like he had just proven a point.

“That’s nothing.” Oikawa flipped the hand he had been smiling behind. “He always calls my shirts dorky.”

“He does?”

Oikawa nodded and went to throw the finished yogurt to the trash.

The smirk was back on Kuroo’s lips when Oikawa looked at him.

“And you like that he thinks they’re dorky,” Kuroo teased. “That’s why you wear them.”

“Shut up.” Oikawa sighed with exasperation.

 

...

 

“Haven’t seen you in here for a while.” Terushima said as a greeting when Oikawa stepped up to the register to order.

“Yeah, well...” Oikawa gave a half-hearted shrug, not knowing what else to say. What else was there to say?

“Don’t worry, I get it.” Terushima waved off Oikawa’s non-explanation.

“Wasn’t worried.” Oikawa said smugly. And he hadn’t been worrying about it. He could care less what Terushima thought about anything. But he still owned the best coffee shop with the best coffee near the university, and this was the place Kageyama wanted to meet at.

Terushima didn’t look offended, though, and Oikawa wasn’t sure if he was happy about it or not.

“So, can I get you anything?” Terushima flashed his customer-service smile.

“Can I get a latte?”

“Sure,” Terushima said, going for a cup.

A tense silence stretched between them while Oikawa waited for Terushima to finish making his coffee. Oikawa didn’t know what to say to break the uncomfortable feeling, and he didn’t feel like commenting on the weather. It had always seemed like a lame excuse for a conversation to Oikawa, just to say _anything._

And Terushima didn’t seem like he wanted to talk either, although there was a barely visible play of emotion on his face that suggested he was thinking hard on something, like he wanted to ask something.  

“Here,” Terushima placed the finished order in front of Oikawa, who paid promptly. He didn’t want to hear what Terushima wanted to ask, in case he gathered his courage to ask whatever it was.

“Thanks,” Oikawa said, flashing his most charming smile, and went to find a good table.

The place was somewhat busy, and it was already past eight o’clock. He found an empty table by the large windows that were decorated with fairy lights, and sat down facing the door. As he waited for Kageyama to arrive, he let his thoughts wander, from school stuff to friends, and to Suga.

When Kageyama had texted the time and place for them to meet, Oikawa had pondered whether to tell Suga that it was at Terushima’s café, and decided against it. Suga didn’t need to know that Oikawa had started to frequent the establishment again. He wasn’t hiding it to keep it a secret, but to stay away from uncomfortable topics. He didn’t even see Terushima most of time he came to get a quick cup of coffee on his way to the school. This really was a rare occurrence, for the two of them to meet like this over the counter. The first in months, to tell the truth.

 

...

 

“Thanks for coming.” Kageyama said when he sat down across from Oikawa by the small table.

“Of course.” Oikawa nodded. “Are you okay?”

He really cared to know if Kageyama was alright. They might not have been dating, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t care about the man. Even though he had been somewhat dismissive of Kageyama, he didn’t want any harm for him. And it was possible that he had been spending too much time around Suga, since his caring nature was starting to rub off on Oikawa.

“Yeah.” Kageyama nodded as well, but his head was hanging down, his eyes focused on his coffee. “It was unexpected to see Shouyou. I’m sorry I left so abruptly.”

“Don’t worry, I get it.”

Oikawa knew that it might be weird seeing an ex without any warning of it, especially if the relationship had ended as badly as Hinata had insinuated.

“Can I ask you about it, though?” Oikawa asked carefully. Kageyama had said he wanted to explain, but he seemed to need some prompting to do so.   

Kageyama glanced up under his fringe. “About me and Shouyou?”

Oikawa nodded.

“I guess.” Kageyama shrugged, but his eyes dropped to his coffee again.

Oikawa wondered how serious Kageyama had been about wanting to explain. He suspected this would be harder than he had anticipated. He chose his first words carefully, starting with something easy, but not with a question that would only give him yes or no answers.

“How serious was it between you and him?”

“Very.” Kageyama took a sip of coffee before he continued and it was as if the flood gates had been opened. When Kageyama started to talk, he didn’t stop. Guess he really needed to talk about this to someone.

“We were together through high school and even our first year at university. I know what you’re thinking. High school love never lasts. But it felt more than just that when we were together. Even when we decided to apply to different universities, we knew we could make it, because we were so strong together. We even talked about getting an apartment together once we had graduated, traveling to other countries together. I really loved him.”

That had been what Oikawa had thought. In his experience and based on what he’d witnessed, high school love didn’t last. But it always felt like the strongest relationship in the world when you were a teenager, to be with the person you loved the most in the world.

“Then, what happened?”

“We got busy.” Kageyama shrugged with one shoulder. “Since we went to different universities after we graduated high school, we didn’t see each other that much anymore, and as time went on, we saw each other less and less frequently. It got to the point where I had to ask, what the point was anymore. It didn’t feel like we were a couple anymore.”

It was silent between them when Kageyama stopped talking, only the chatter of the other customers surrounding them.

Oikawa wanted to hear the rest of the story, but didn’t want to push Kageyama to it. He had a feeling Kageyama wanted to tell the story anyway, so he waited.

He managed to take two sips of his coffee before Kageyama heaved a heavy sigh, his whole body moving with it, as he got ready to continue.

“So, I ended it. Shouyou didn’t want to and for a short period of time we were in that weird stage of not knowing if we were still together or not. I thought then, that once we had finished our studies, we’d meet again somewhere and figure out if we should start dating again, if we could continue where we left off. But that never happened.”

Oikawa could imagine the want to continue where they left off, the need to cling to something that used to be, just to feel better because the other person wasn’t there anymore, in the hopes that in the future they would be.

“Besides, the end wasn’t pretty and even though I kind of wanted to remain friends, at least sort of friends, I wasn’t ready for it, I couldn’t do it. Even though I broke up with him, it hurt like hell.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No, not really. But I know that it’ll take time for us to become any kind of friends again. I left things badly and I dodged his calls and messages for so long.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t know that he was with Kenma?”

Kageyama lifted his eyes to look straight into Oikawa’s. “He’s dating someone?”

“Kenma, the guy he was sitting with when you saw him.” Oikawa explained.

“Oh...” Kageyama dropped his eyes again, looking depressed. He must’ve been really holding onto hope that he and Hinata could get back together again.

“You really didn’t know that he was dating someone?”

“No.” Kageyama shook his head and continued talking to his coffee cup. “We have mutual friends and they would sometimes slip and mention Shouyou and how he was doing. And I was glad to know that he was okay after he had to drop out for a semester, because I knew it was my fault. But I didn’t know he was dating.”

“Is Hinata-kun the reason you came to Tokyo?” Oikawa asked then, realizing something in Kageyama’s words.

“Yes.”

“Of course he is.” Oikawa said under his breath behind his cup of coffee.

“Ever since I came to Tokyo I’ve been hoping to run into him. But it never happened, mostly because I was too much of a chicken to even approach his uni.” Kageyama almost spat out the words.

“You knew what school he was going to?”

Kageyama nodded, looking up at him from under his brows.

“And you chose the other on purpose?”

Kageyama nodded again.

Oikawa sighed. No wonder Kageyama was so pissed off. He was hoping for something to happen, that he wasn’t ready to face yet. 

“Maybe, if I had just called him back or answered his texts when we had first broken up, we could be in a better place. Maybe he wouldn’t be with someone else.” Kageyama spoke with regret, looking down at the table.

Oikawa shook his head and put down his cup. “You can’t think that.”

He waited for Kageyama to look up to him before he continued.

“You can’t know, and you couldn’t have known, what might’ve been if you’d done that or this. Yes, maybe you and Hinata could’ve got together when you moved to Tokyo if you’d stayed friends after the break up. Or, Hinata would’ve still met someone while you were apart. Or maybe you could’ve. You’ll never know and it’s a waste of your time to wallow on the could-be’s and would-have’s.”

Kageyama’s eyes wavered.

“You just accept the choices you’ve made and live with them.” Oikawa stressed. “You move on.”

Oikawa finished his coffee and he couldn’t help but think about the choices he made in the past, especially the ones concerning him and Iwaizumi. It had been Oikawa who had first said out loud that he didn’t love Iwaizumi anymore, not the way he once had. It had been Oikawa, who had decided to break up. And it had been him, who had to watch how Iwaizumi met and fell in love with Daichi.

“I’m going to get another cup of coffee.” Oikawa said, getting up. “Do you want anything?”

Kageyama shook his head as an answer and Oikawa left him alone in his thoughts for the minute or two it took for him to get another coffee. Thankfully, Terushima wasn’t working the register this time, and Oikawa had a more pleasant interaction with the young blond girl, who was definitely new to customer-service. She was full of nervous but sweet smiles and shaky and uncertain hands. Oikawa rather found it endearing, as well as frustrating, when she couldn’t remember what he had ordered when she went to make it.

When Oikawa got back to the table, Kageyama was looking out the window with a contemplative look in his eyes, leaning his chin into his hands.

Oikawa wasn’t sure if he should ask anymore from Kageyama, but he had questions that needed answers. “Are you still up to talking about Hinata?” He asked and sipped his coffee. It was better than Terushima’s and Oikawa smiled at the young and small girl behind the counter, who blushed and hid behind the tall stack of cups. With a quiet chuckle Oikawa turned back to Kageyama, who shrugged, and continued to wait for a proper answer.

After a beat Kageyama turned his head to look at Oikawa. “Why? Is there still something you want to know?”

“Yes,” he answered smoothly.

“Okay,” Kageyama nodded his consent.

“If you were hoping to run into Hinata, why did you hold onto me so tight? Why did you want to date me so badly?” It was probably a bit of an unfair question, but he wanted to know. He wanted to know if Kageyama had used him just as another excuse to push off contacting Hinata.

“I don’t know.” Kageyama answered almost immediately, and Oikawa suspected the truth of it.

“I think you do know.”

“I guess.” Kageyama kept glaring under his brows again.

“So?” Oikawa urged him to continue.

“You were good looking.” Kageyama spoke defensively. “And the sex was good. And you were there.”

“Were you just trying to fill something that was missing, and I happened to be there?” Oikawa asked, almost pitying the younger man.

“I told you I was too much of a coward to approach Shouyou. There were days when I even wished that I wouldn’t meet him again. And then I literally bumped into you. And I got used to the idea of you.”

Oikawa wasn’t too pleased that he had been right, although a part of him wanted to dangle this in front of Kageyama. And not wanting to be cruel and petty, he didn’t know what else to say but, “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

Kageyama shrugged, the fight leaving him again. Oikawa watched him look around the coffee place, waiting for him to say something, curious if he wanted to continue their conversation. He had more questions himself, but seeing how worked up Kageyama got from the previous, he wanted to give the younger man a moment.

When Kageyama looked to him again, the sullen expression was gone again, and in place there was uncertainty. It was a new expression for Oikawa to see on Kageyama.

“How long has Shouyou been together with the other guy?”

“I don’t know.” Oikawa answered honestly. He had never asked. Hinata and Kenma had always looked to Oikawa like they had been together forever. There was a certain timelessness in them, in the comfortable way they were and acted around each other. “I’m guessing a couple of years.”

“That long? Are you sure?”

“No. But definitely longer than I’ve been their neighbor.”

“Hm...” Kageyama sunk into his thoughts.

“I could find out for you.” Oikawa offered, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe there was a part of him that wanted to make Kageyama feel better and maybe this was a way to do that. He blamed Suga in his mind for wanting to be nice. “But I need you to be absolutely sure that you want to know before I do.”

“No, don’t.” Kageyama shook his head. “It’s better that I don’t know.”

“Are you sure you won’t keep obsessing about it?”

“I’m sure.” Kageyama stressed the words with a single nod of his head. “Knowing how long they’ve been together won’t change the fact that they are.”

“You’re right.” Oikawa had to admit.

Silence filled the space between them again. It felt out of place in such a crowded and loud place. Oikawa couldn’t come up with anything else to ask or talk about, and he waited if Kageyama still had something on his mind. It was probably the longest and the most uncomfortable silence Oikawa had ever experienced. He had an urgent feel of wanting to leave, to go home, since there was nothing more he could get, or even wanted, from Kageyama, but he wasn’t sure how to do it.

“I know you’re probably itching to go already, it’s getting late, but...” Kageyama said suddenly and Oikawa studied his thoughtful expression when the younger man stopped to consider his next words. “Can I ask you something that I’ve been wondering about?”

Oikawa thought that was fair, (damn you Suga), and answered easily, “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you in love with your roommate?”

The question surprised Oikawa but he schooled it out of his expression in a matter of milliseconds, before Kageyama could notice it.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” It was Kageyama’s turn to study Oikawa. “You look at him like you are. But you never talk about him. I think you were _very_ careful to not mention him to me, at least not by his name.”

“I’m not in love with him. He’s just a roommate.” Oikawa sounded sure of his answer, but Kageyama’s question still made him think about it. Was Suga just a roommate? Definitely they were friends by now with everything that had happened between them. They were close with each other, and cared deeply about each other. And he had to admit that he kind of, maybe, possibly, liked Suga.

“Then why were you so secretive about him? You never wanted me to meet him. Were you worried that I’d see it?”

“I’m not in love with him.”

But Akiko had mentioned it too. Had she seen something that Kageyama had noticed too?

“I don’t really care whether you are or not. I doubt we’ll see each other again. I was just curious.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Oikawa repeated for good measure.

“You’re still not using his name.” Kageyama pointed out and Oikawa sighed, wanting to keep insisting, but finding it futile. This was now two people, who had observed him with Suga only for a brief period of time and come to the same conclusion.

“It’s fine, if you say you’re not in love with him, I believe you.” Kageyama nodded but there was a look in his eyes as he downed the last of his coffee that told Oikawa he didn’t believe him.

Could they be right?

But how could they be? Oikawa would know himself better than anyone else. And if he was sure he wasn’t in love with Suga, then he definitely wasn’t in love with him.

It didn’t matter now though, who was wrong and who was right. The inevitable countdown that had started when Kageyama had sat down across from him had come to an end.

“I think I’m going to go now.” Kageyama said, standing up and pulling his coat on.

Oikawa looked up to him, “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“No,” Kageyama shook his head. “I think I need to air my thoughts alone.”

“Let me know when you get home.”

Kageyama’s eyebrows rose just a little in surprise.

Oikawa was definitely spending, if not too much, then at least _a lot_ of time with Suga.

“You look a little depressed and I don’t want to hear in the news tomorrow morning how a young man had jumped from a bridge.” Oikawa explained himself.

There was the smallest quirk upwards on Kageyama’s lips. “I’ll text you.”

“Good.”

“But it’ll be the last text you’ll hear from me. I don’t think I could be with anyone who’s so close with Shouyou.”

“I understand.” Oikawa nodded, not even a little bit sorry that this was the last time he’d see Kageyama.  “Thank you for explaining everything.”

“Thank you for hearing me out.” Kageyama said and turned away with a small wave of his hand.

Oikawa watched him walk out the door, wondering why he wasn’t feeling bad that he wouldn’t have sex with Kageyama, or even spend time with him anymore. If he was feeling anything about the situation, it was... relief. No, it was... It was like a weight had been lifted, like he was a balloon filled with helium that had been let to fly away.  

“You okay?”

Oikawa looked up to his side and saw Terushima standing next to the table with a rag in his hand. Oikawa suspected he had just been wiping down tables.

“I’m fine,” Oikawa answered shortly. He didn’t want to insinuate that he wanted to continue a conversation with Terushima.

The man however, didn’t seem to catch onto it. “Are you sure? To an outsider it looked like you two just broke up.”

“We never dated.”

“Oh, okay.” Terushima nodded.

Oikawa waited for him to walk away, looking out the window to signal that he didn’t want to talk with the man. But he seemed really clueless, or maybe he just ignored Oikawa’s social cues, as he surprised Oikawa by sitting down on the chair Kageyama had just vacated.  

“Do you have a minute to talk?”

“I guess...” Oikawa answered with an uncertain streak in his voice that he tried to mask by sipping his coffee. He really didn’t want to talk to Terushima, mostly because he was Suga’s ex, someone who had hurt Suga, but he didn’t want to be rude either because this was his favorite coffee place. Plus, he still had some coffee left in his cup and he didn’t want it to go to waste.

“I know we never really talked while I was dating Suga,” Terushima started.  “Apart from that one time when I was baking in your kitchen and you came home. I don’t know if you –“

“I remember,” Oikawa interrupted Terushima, who nodded and continued after he took a deep breath. Oikawa wasn’t sure if it was to steady him, or in preparation for what he wanted to talk about.

“And I know that you probably hate me because I broke up with Suga. You two got kind of close when you moved into his apartment.”

“You could say that.” Oikawa admitted, to both claims. He wasn’t too happy with Terushima, and he and Suga had grown close.

“I just have one question.”

Oikawa nodded his permission for Terushima to ask.

“How’s Suga doing?”

Oikawa took a moment to think over what to answer. It gave Terushima an opportunity to continue.

“I heard he wasn’t doing too well when we broke up and I’ve been worrying.”

Oikawa looked down to the cup in his hand examining if he could down what was left in one go. “Hinata-kun?” He guessed where Terushima had heard about Suga.

“Hinata,” Terushima confirmed. “I had to ask, I needed to know.”

Oikawa could understand that and he gulped down the last of his coffee, getting ready to leave.

“Suga’s fine.” He answered, putting down his cup with finality.

Terushima let out a relieved sigh, but there was an uncertain waver in his eyes that kept Oikawa in place.

“Is he dating anyone?”

Oikawa didn’t want to answer. It wasn’t his place to answer Terushima’s questions about Suga. If Terushima wanted to know, he could ask Suga, no matter how much he didn’t want Suga to spend any time in any setting with the man.

Suga might’ve been over the break up by now, but Oikawa had a feeling that Suga was still in love with Terushima, and that bothered him more than just a little.

“You don’t want to tell me?” Terushima guessed Oikawa’s hesitance right.

Oikawa took a big breath and let it out in a short gust, standing up and pulling his jacket on. “Look, even though everyone in our building kind of hates you for what you did to Suga, take solace in knowing that he's fine.”

Terushima looked a little disappointed and hurt, but it didn’t have any impact on Oikawa, who turned away from him, intending on leaving the establishment as quickly as possible.

“I still love him.” Terushima spoke with raw regret in his voice.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled if I could end the chapter on that line, but decided to go with it anyway.  
> Please don't kill me (*fetches a shield from the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s armory in preparation of possible hate-mail*
> 
> HEY at least the story continues, don't worry, I know what I'm doing :)
> 
> to be continued:  
> "Just tell Suga."  
> "You don't know how hard that is."  
> "And you don't know how it really isn't."


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shouts thank you's from the mountaintop for all the lovely comments (all the comments) I got for the last chapter*  
> (I'm getting a little freaked out how you keep using some lines from future chapters, but I kind of love it too) 
> 
> I knew some of you would not be happy with Terushima, for what he said, so that in mind, here we go:

 

Oikawa stopped mid-step, not comprehending what he just heard. He turned slowly to look back to Terushima, who was studying the tabletop, his right knee jumping up and down like he was nervous. Oikawa knew he should leave, he really wanted to. But even a bigger part of him wanted to hear more.

He thought it over for a fraction of a second, and in the future when he thinks back to this moment, he knows he should’ve thought longer and left. Instead, he went to sit back down.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I still lo-“

“I heard you,” Oikawa interrupted Terushima. “I just don’t understand.”

Terushima seemed to wonder about Oikawa’s statement, his eyes wandering to the side in thought before he brought them back to look straight into Oikawa’s eyes. “You don’t understand how I’m still in love with Suga?”

“Well, that too,” Oikawa admitted, “but I also don’t understand what you hope to achieve by telling me this.”

“You’re his roommate. I thought you’d have some sort of insight to Suga, where he’s at.”

“Are you asking if he still loves you?” Oikawa asked incredulously. Terushima didn’t answer, but the guilty expression that crossed over his face was an answer enough.

“Are you hoping that he is, so you could have another chance with him?” Oikawa asked begrudgingly, honestly dreading Terushima’s answer.

“No...” Terushima sounded unsure and Oikawa didn’t believe him. Couldn’t believe what he was hearing, that he had to sit there and hear this, to come to know this.

If Oikawa had any flattering, or even positive, thoughts about Terushima before that evening, they would have disappeared by now, with every word Terushima had said.

Oikawa gritted his teeth, starting to resent the man. How could he possibly go home after this conversation, and look Suga in the eye and not mention any of this?

“Then, why the hell did you break up with him?” Oikawa asked accusingly, and he was feeling a little victorious, seeing a wince at his words on Terushima’s face.

But he had a legitimate reason to ask that question, though. He really couldn’t wrap his mind around this. If Terushima was in love with Suga when he broke up with him, why would he do that? Suga didn’t deserve to be hurt, ever, by anyone. And now this man, who had hurt Suga, said he still loved him.

“You were great together.” Oikawa continued with his accusatory tone.

Terushima sighed, “I know.” He hid his face into his hands. “We were great together, but...” Terushima sighed again and looked up to Oikawa. “Whatever you’re thinking happened, I promise it’s not that black and white.”

“What am I thinking then?”

“You’re thinking I threw something great away on a whim. But that’s not what happened.”

“What happened then?”

“I loved Suga, I still do.” Terushima admitted again with a broken voice. It was painful to look into Terushima’s hurt eyes and Oikawa couldn’t help but believe that Terushima really meant it. “I loved every second I spent with him. And it scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t ready for it. And I don’t think Suga was ready either.”

“It was pretty clear to see that you loved each other.” Oikawa admitted quietly.

“We did. We just never said it to each other.”

This was news to Oikawa. They never said “I love you”? He was starting to understand Terushima a bit better. Where he was coming from, why he was still hung up on Suga. He had something on his mind, on his heart, that he had never said out loud, and it was weighing on him.

“Have you ever thought that you met the right person at a wrong time?” Terushima asked, his eyes glued to the table, hiding his expression from Oikawa.

Oikawa shook his head when Terushima looked up to him.

“Hmm, well, that’s how I feel about Suga.” Terushima wrung the rag in his hands. “He was the right person but I met him at a wrong time. I wasn’t ready for everything we could’ve been.”

Oikawa sighed with exhaustion and exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I’m having the same conversation with two different people on the same day.” His voice came out muffled against his hands and he dropped them to his lap to look at Terushima again, ready to give him the same advice he’d given to Kageyama.

Terushima’s brow was furrowed in confusion. Of course he wouldn’t understand what Oikawa was talking about until he’d explain. Oikawa took a readying breath and let it out, leaning his elbows on the table in front of him.

“You have to move on.” Oikawa stressed his words. “You made a choice. And now you accept it and live with it. You can’t go back in time to change it, so stop looking back with regret.”

Terushima was silent, considering Oikawa’s words.

“Embrace the possibilities you have been given by the choice you’ve made.”

“It’s not that easy.” Terushima countered.

Oikawa adopted the most sincere look he could. “Once you accept it, it will be.” It was really hard to be so considerate towards Terushima, but somehow Oikawa managed it.

While Terushima fell silent again, sinking into his thoughts in the middle of the bustle and hustle of his café, Oikawa came up with another compelling argument.

“Besides, Suga isn’t in love with you anymore.”

It was a lie, and Oikawa delivered it with a straight face and an air of arrogance.

There was no way Suga could ever come to hear Terushima saying he was still in love with him, not if Oikawa could do something about it. He was painfully aware of Suga’s lingering feelings for Terushima, and knew, that if Suga knew that Terushima still felt the same way about him, he’d give Terushima another chance. Oikawa was a hundred percent sure about that. Suga really would be kind and sweet and still hung up enough to take Terushima back. And that could never come to happen.

“Are you sure?” Terushima tilted his head just a fraction, studying Oikawa.

“Yes,” Oikawa kept lying smoothly.

“You’re not just saying that because you’re feeling territorial?”

Oikawa was confused, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners with suspicion. “Why would I be territorial about Suga?”

“I overheard what your “not-date” asked.” Terushima explained with his face devoid of any feeling. “Sorry,” he shrugged. To Oikawa, he didn’t sound or look sorry about it at all.

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard him ask if you’re in love with your roommate, and I know that Suga’s your roommate, so...” Terushima let the implications float in the air.

“I guess you didn’t hear my answer, then.”

“No, I heard that too,” Terushima said, a knowing grin ghosting on his lips. “I didn’t believe you.”

Oikawa held his expression neutral, like Terushima’s words didn’t have any effect on him, but inside, his thoughts were racing. He didn’t like the presumptuous tone Terushima had used. He didn’t like the gut-feeling he got that Terushima would somehow use this information to his own advantage.

“I have to go,” Oikawa said after the silence stretched between them to become unbearable. He didn’t have anything to say – no, he didn’t know what to say as a rebuttal, that wouldn’t come out sounding like he was being petty.

“It’s fine if you are in love with him.” Terushima said off-handedly when Oikawa stood up. “But maybe you should tell him before someone else comes along and snatches him before you have the chance to.”

There was no warning in Terushima’s voice, no threat, and it came out sounding like a genuine advice, rooting Oikawa to his spot. He just didn’t believe the sincerity Terushima was exhibiting.

“Look, I’m not saying this because I’m in love with Suga.” Oikawa leaned his hands on the table, leaning in conspiratorially, and looming over Terushima. “But you can never tell Suga that you’re in love with him.”

“Why?” Terushima demanded to know.

“He just got over you. What do you think will happen, what it will do to him, if you go back running to him, begging him to take you back because you still love him?”

Terushima’s face fell. Oikawa was pleased that Terushima still cared about Suga enough to come to consider his feelings, even if they had to be pointed out to him.

“And do you want to be an asshole to the guy you’re currently dating too?”

Terushima let out a defeated sigh. “I wasn’t actually considering going to Suga about this,” he said leaning to the back of the chair, his shoulders slumped.

Oikawa straightened back to his full height, looking down at Terushima. “Why did you tell me about this then?”

“Because I miss Suga sometimes.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Oikawa asked softly, knowing full well that he’d miss Suga every second of every day if he was cut off from him like Terushima was. He already did at times, when he didn’t see Suga for hours.

Terushima agreed with a wry smile and a nod of his head. “I’m going to let you go,” he said then, standing up too and looking completely worn out. Guess emotional and charged conversations could do that to a person. Oikawa wasn’t feeling that great himself either.

“Don’t look back to what you and Suga had with so much regret.” Oikawa gave a last piece of advice. “It happened for a reason. And now you move on, with the other guy.” He spoke in a gentler voice than he had intended, once again blaming Suga for the consideration he had learned from him.

“I know,” Terushima braved to smile a little. “I know you really care about Suga, you wouldn’t want to protect him this fiercely if you didn’t. Just...” Terushima let out a gust of breath. “If you do love him, tell him.”

Oikawa frowned at Terushima.

“Suga deserves to be happy.” Terushima said as his parting words, and Oikawa had to agree with him. If anyone he knew deserved to be happy, it was Suga. But he wasn’t as sure if he was the one who could do that.

He wasn’t even in love with Suga. How could he make Suga happy in the way that Terushima suggested?

 

...

 

30 minutes later Oikawa found himself ringing Iwaizumi and Daichi’s doorbell. He wasn’t sure what had brought him there, but there he was, at 9:30 in the evening, his hands stuffed in his jacket’s pockets, contemplating everything he had learned in Terushima’s coffee shop, everything that had been insinuated.

_I’m not in love with him._

Oikawa kept repeating the words in his mind like a mantra, desperately grasping on them and forcing them to be true.

_I’m not in love with him._

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa looked up from the corner of doorframe and the floor he had been staring at, spacing in real time. He hadn’t heard the door open.

“Hey,” he flashed a smile. “Sorry to drop in like this.”

“That’s okay,” Iwaizumi stated with a small nod of his head, his eyes steady on Oikawa’s. “What are you doing here?”

“I just need someone to talk to. It’s been a surreal day.”

“Come in.” Iwaizumi opened the door more and Oikawa went in, stepping out of his shoes and hanging his coat by the door.

“Is Daichi here?”

“No, he’s on call.” Iwaizumi explained, making the way to the kitchen. “I was making tea when you came. Do you want some too?” He asked, looking over his shoulder.

“No thanks, I just had a couple of cups of coffee.” Oikawa admitted, realizing the mistake in doing so too late.

Iwaizumi fixed him with a disapproving look. “You’re not going to stay up late studying again, are you?”

“No, of course not.” Oikawa waved his hand nonchalantly.

Iwaizumi turned back to preparing his tea. “I know you’ve been ignoring my texts and not taking breaks, staying up until the small hours of night with your dissertation.”

Oikawa felt a little guilty at that. He had been ignoring Iwaizumi’s caring texts reminding him to take a break, to close his laptop and books and go to sleep. He wondered, though, how Iwaizumi knew that. Had he guessed? Did Oikawa really look so tired? Or had Suga told him?

“You don’t need to worry about me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa smiled charmingly.

“I do, if you’re going to exhaust yourself, if you insist on not taking care of yourself.”

“I’m fine,” Oikawa insisted.

“That’s what Suga said you told him.” Iwaizumi turned to look at Oikawa with a cup of steaming tea in his hand, and Oikawa could smell a whiff of mint in the air.

“You talk about me with Suga-chan?”

“We worry about you.”

Oikawa smiled widely, trying to dispel Iwaizumi’s worries with it. “You don’t need to. I’m f-“

“If you say you’re fine, I’m going to throw this cup at you.” Iwaizumi threatened with a dark look in his eyes.

Oikawa snickered, but didn’t finish his sentence. Some things never changed, he was glad to find out once again. He kind of missed this at times. The easy way he could hang and banter with Iwaizumi.

“So, what did you come here to talk about?” Iwaizumi reminded Oikawa when his light snickers died down.

Oikawa took a big breath that felt shallow and went to the living room, and fell to lie on his back on the couch. He heard and saw from the corner of his eye Iwaizumi move to sit in the armchair. The smell of mint accompanied them from the kitchen and Oikawa was sure it was wafting from the tea.

“What’s up, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi prompted him.

Oikawa fixed the throw pillow under his head, playing for time as he took a moment to consider his words, how to proceed, how much to say.

“Did you happen to hear how the guy I was seeing fled from our apartment a week or so ago?”

“Yeah, I heard.”

Of course Iwaizumi would’ve heard about it. Suga probably told Daichi, who in turn told Iwaizumi. Or, maybe, Suga had told directly to Iwaizumi, since they spent time together talking about Oikawa.

“Yeah, well, I saw him today. For the last time.”

“Sorry about that.” Iwaizumi’s consolation came immediately.

“No, it’s fine.” Oikawa assured him, because it really was fine. “I’m actually relieved.”

“Oh, okay.” There was a note of surprise in Iwaizumi’s voice, but Oikawa let it go. He had more he wanted to get out first.

“Anyway, we met at Terushima’s coffee shop and –“

“Suga’s ex?”

“Yeah.” Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi to see his expression.

“Does Suga know that you went there?” Iwaizumi asked with hard eyes, judgment practically dripping in his voice.

“No, but it’s not a big deal. I’ve been going there for about a month or two now.”

“Oikawa –“

“I haven’t lied to Suga about it.” Oikawa reassured Iwaizumi again. “I just haven’t told him because I don’t want to cause any harm or displeasure for him.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes softened just a fraction, but it was still enough to register to Oikawa and he turned his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Okay, so, you were telling me about Kageyama.”

Oikawa was surprised that Iwaizumi remembered Kageyama’s name. He hadn’t made the same effort back when Iwaizumi started to date Daichi. Sawamura who?

“Actually, Kageyama’s not why I’m here, but what happened when he left. And things got a little weird.” Oikawa said. Weird might not have been the right word to describe the situation, but it was the first one that came to his mind.

“How so?”

 “I talked with Terushima," Oikawa said, but quickly changed his words to be more truthful. "No, that’s not right. He wanted to talk to me.”

“About Suga?”

Oikawa hummed to tell Iwaizumi he had guessed right. “He said he’s still in love with Suga.”

It was silent for a second that felt longer and longer as it passed by. Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Iwaizumi’s reaction that took forever to come.

“And that bothers you.” Iwaizumi finally stated, right before Oikawa was going to ask him what he was thinking about Terushima’s confession.

“Well, yeah.” Oikawa admitted easily. “I know Suga’s still in love with him and I don’t want him to get hurt again. I told him not to go to Suga telling him such things.”

“I think there’s another reason too why you don’t want Terushima to tell that to Suga.”

“Like what?” Oikawa asked, tensing as he already knew what Iwaizumi would say. He knew it would be the same thing that everyone kept telling him.

 _“You_ are in love with Suga.”

Oikawa had been right, but he didn’t think that the press in Iwaizumi’s voice was warranted.

“And you don’t want Terushima to tell him that the feeling’s mutual, because that would make him an adversary.”

“Come on...”

“Remember when I came over to watch the volleyball game?” Iwaizumi asked, and Oikawa heard the soft sound when he put down the cup on the coffee table.

He nodded his answer, knowing Iwaizumi would see it, but wondered where he was going with that question. 

“I saw your face when you were sitting between Suga’s legs.”

Oikawa sighed and gathered everything he had in him to say, for the last time, to convince for the last time that, “I’m not in love with Suga.”

“Okay, fine, you’re not in love with him.” Iwaizumi placated in a soothing voice. “But you definitely like him.”

Well, that was an easy assumption to make, about everyone and anyone.

“Of course I do. Everyone likes Suga.”

“No, I mean that you really like him.”

“Please don’t start too.” Oikawa asked with a whine. He didn’t come to talk to Iwaizumi about this. He didn’t come to talk about his non-existent affectionate feelings for Suga.

“Start what?”

“Everyone keeps mentioning this to me.” Oikawa draped his arms over his eyes.

“Everyone?”

“Kuroo, Makki and Mattsun keep teasing me about it.”

“Teasing? Really?” Iwaizumi asked with an audible smile in his voice. “Maybe there’s a reason you think it’s teasing?”

Oikawa groaned under his arms, closing his eyes so he couldn’t see the light through the crack between his arms anymore.

“Talk to me Oikawa.” Iwaizumi urged.

Oikawa dropped his arms with a defeated sigh. “Akiko, Kageyama and Terushima thought the same as you. That I’m in love with Suga.”

“That’s... A lot of people, Oikawa.”

Oikawa shot a wary glance towards Iwaizumi. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that there are seven people, well eight if you count Daichi too, that have noticed that you’re different around Suga compared to the way you’re with anyone else.”

Oikawa was struck silent by Iwaizumi's words. They were resonating somewhere deep in Oikawa’s head as he studied the white ceiling of Iwaizumi and Daichi’s apartment. He was starting to feel more and more like he was lying down on a couch in a shrink’s office.

“It’s okay if you like Suga.” Iwaizumi said softly. “But you should tell him.”

“Terushima said the same thing.”

“Then you definitely should tell him.”

“No, Suga... He doesn’t feel the same way about me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you.” Oikawa insisted with a frown, growing more and more exasperated over the whole situation.

“Look, Oikawa, I know you.  I know that you’re going to be obsessing about this.”

Oikawa disagreed with that. He wasn’t obsessing about Suga’s possible and non-possible feelings towards him. But maybe, just maybe, he was denying his own feelings, once again. They came and went, according to his mood and how tired he was. Sometimes it was harder to say he didn’t have fond feelings for Suga, when it was a late evening and he was tired and Suga was there being all sweet and wonderful. Other times – when he was more alert and had just drank about five cups of coffee – it was easier to be around Suga. There was no fluttering in his chest or want to curl his fingers into a fist so his wandering hands wouldn’t reach towards Suga, because he could push such sensations down.

“I’m just saying that you’ll save time by telling Suga how you feel. That way you’ll learn if he feels the same.”

Oikawa knew, with every fiber in him, that Iwaizumi was right, but...

“What if he doesn’t?” Oikawa asked quietly.

“Then you move on.” Iwaizumi stated again. “Isn’t that what you tell everyone to do?”

Oikawa knew it was easier to give the advice than to follow it himself. If he were to truly accept his possible feelings towards Suga. _If._

“Or, I mean, you live with him. Maybe he’ll start to feel the same way.”

“After I’ve made everything awkward between us by confessing to him first?” Oikawa pointed out a serious flaw in Iwaizumi’s plan.

“That’s what happened with Makki and Mattsun.”

Oikawa sat up on the couch. Iwaizumi was right. The two had been nothing but best friends until they had been placed in the same apartment by university housing. It had been Matsukawa to first admit that he was falling for Hanamaki. For a couple of months they had lived in that awkward phase of not knowing how to be around each other, until Hanamaki fell for Matsukawa too, a lot harder and deeper than Matsukawa had.

It had worked for them, but that didn’t guarantee that it would work like that with Oikawa and Suga. And Oikawa didn’t like the uncertainty he was facing, no matter what he’d do.

“And it’s perfectly possible that Suga does like you back already. And if he does, you can be together.” Iwaizumi kept speaking, his words somehow slithering into Oikawa’s consciousness, convincing him that he could do that and it would okay. It was all in the measured voice Iwaizumi was using, and there was a small voice in Oikawa’s mind, telling him that he was doing it on purpose. But somehow he wasn’t listening to his own voice, but the sway Iwaizumi’s words had.

“Just tell him.”

“You don’t know how hard that is.”

“And you don’t know how it really isn’t.” Iwaizumi countered patiently.

“He doesn’t feel the same way about me,” Oikawa kept clinging to that one straw, not letting himself believe it would be true.

“I saw Suga’s expression too.”

Oikawa looked straight to Iwaizumi for the first time since he had lied down on the couch. If Iwaizumi’s voice and choice of words hadn’t already tipped Oikawa towards acceptance and belief, his eyes did the final trick. There was a steady gentle look in them.

“He might respond to your feelings.”

“But he’s not ready to date yet.”

“So?” Iwaizumi shrugged. “At least he’d know how you feel when he is ready to date again.”

Oikawa sighed, resigning on the matter to trust Iwaizumi. Maybe he was just mentally too exhausted to fight on the matter anymore, after the day he had had.

“And that way he won’t go and find someone else when he is finally ready.”

Oikawa chewed his tongue for a moment, mulling over everything Iwaizumi had said. Guess he could tell Suga that he... might... like him. But that was scary. Or he could forgo the telling and watch Suga fall in love with someone else. And that was scary in a whole another way. He had a lot to think about, and it was getting late, he was getting tired.

“Thanks for hearing me out about this,” Oikawa said sincerely, locking his eyes with Iwaizumi’s as he slumped on the couch again. He hadn’t come to Iwaizumi to talk about Suga, but he was kind of glad that the conversation had gone there.

Oikawa glanced at the clock on the wall, saw the time moving forward little by little, second by second, minute by minute. He should go home, he knew, but somehow he didn’t feel quite ready for it.

“You don’t have to thank me about this. You know you can talk to me about this stuff.”

“I know,” Oikawa nodded as Iwaizumi stood up and picked up his empty cup from the coffee table. “It doesn’t mean it’s easy though.”

“I think we did okay.” Iwaizumi voiced his opinion with evident pride when he went to the kitchen. Oikawa smiled, feeling the same pride that they could have such a lengthy talk about one’s feelings for someone else. Only four months ago this might have been impossible.

“I know you have a lot to think about now, and I don’t want to rush you, but it’s getting late and I have to get up early in the morning.” Iwaizumi said when he came back from the kitchen.

Oikawa looked over the back of the couch, his head upside down. “Can I just stay here for the night?”

There was a hint of gentle patience in Iwaizumi’s voice and eyes. “You know that you can’t.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa sighed. He wasn’t serious when he asked. “I know. I’ll go home.” He got up with a silent groan, stretching from the slumped position he had been sitting in.

“I apologize for sending you away so late in the night.” Iwaizumi said gruffly, but sounding sincere when he followed Oikawa to the front door.

“That’s okay, don’t worry.” Oikawa pulled his shoes on. “I get it, it’s fine.”

Iwaizumi nodded again when their eyes met as Oikawa shrugged his coat on.

“Night, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa wished and opened the door.

“Bye. Be safe.”

Oikawa flashed a smile again right before he closed the door.

 

...

 

Oikawa’s walk home was filled with introspection. The walk wasn’t that long, but it took longer this time. The crisp winter air cleared his thoughts, brought him to a more alerted state. It made it easier to wade through the uncertainties and doubts Oikawa had been experiencing for some time already. For months probably, now that Oikawa really thought about it.

He realized that his feelings were nothing new. He had been infatuated with Suga for a long time now. It started to build gradually, and when it started to manifest itself in his actions and reactions with Suga, he was more than just denying what was going on inside him. He wasn’t acknowledging the existence of his affectionate feelings. He wasn’t sure why, but being told over and over again that he was in love with Suga, had finally made him realize how true it was.

_I’m not in love with Suga._

Oikawa thought for the last time.

_I like Suga._

Now, that wasn’t the first time Oikawa had let himself say those words in his thoughts, but he had an ever-growing feeling that he would come to think those words more and more.

He was finally letting go of his denial.

It had been unavoidable, falling for Suga. The wonderful lovely sweet angelic Suga. Oikawa was quite aware that he might have been over-exaggerating there, but he didn’t care. He was reeling from the crash he had drifted to, finally admitting, finally letting himself to softly think, _I’m falling for Suga. I’ve been falling for him since..._

He knew it was beyond a simple crush now. No, this was much more substantial. This was earth-tilting-on-its-axis kind of deal. And Oikawa was thoroughly unprepared for it, having denied it for so long.

As it really dawned on him, how much he liked Suga, how much he wanted to be with Suga, the more he found himself to have been extremely stupid, to ever have thought that he didn’t have deeper feelings for the man.

It wasn’t love yet, but by all the gods and everything in the universe, did Oikawa want to hold onto Suga, kiss him silly and dazed, and more than anything, to be loved by Suga.

The only drawback with finally acknowledging his own feelings was that Suga was nowhere near where he was. And he wasn’t ready to date yet. So, what was Oikawa to do?

Especially since they were already quite close and comfortable around each other. If his heart already beat about hundred beats per second from a casual touch, if he was already experiencing shivers running under his skin from the way Suga’s fingers felt combing through his hair, how much worse would it get before he would be able to tell Suga how he truly felt about him?

The long and slow walk provided Oikawa with the chance to think back on the soft moments he had already shared with Suga. How Suga had hugged him without a moment’s hesitation whenever Oikawa wished or asked for one. How Suga’s smile could make him feel better no matter what, and how Suga gave him strength probably without even realizing he was doing it.  How Suga let him caress his hair without any complaints and how the way he seemed to enjoy it made Oikawa want to do it all the time.  How Suga’s wit was something to be apprehensive of, but also how it could bring joy and fun and how that overpowered any resentment anyone could hold against Suga’s bites. How Suga had laughed when Oikawa had tickled him. How his laughter could fill every void and crevice in Oikawa. How warm Suga was and how he cared about Oikawa, and about all his friends.

Really, Oikawa had been so monumentally boneheaded and just plain blind to ever insist that he didn’t like Suga.

He was already walking up the stairs to their front door, when he realized, that Suga had probably started this all when he came with his broken heart for comfort. Even back then, it had caused rapid heartbeats in Oikawa, to feel Suga seek closeness and comfort. The way Suga had trusted him without a word of reassurance to do so.

Oikawa had been so wrapped up in his studies that everything with Suga had been subtle enough to pass almost unnoticed by his conscious mind, only the biggest reactions for a touch or a sound or a shared moment catching on with him. But now that he thought about it all... Oh, how obtuse Oikawa had been.  

The apartment was dark and quiet when Oikawa opened and closed the front door. It was barely eleven o’clock, but he was used to Suga going to sleep relatively early. There was a small light left on in the kitchen, and Oikawa knew Suga had left it on for him so he wouldn’t have to trip or stumble on anything when he came home.

The thought made Oikawa smile as he made his way down the hallway. He passed by his own room and leaned against Suga’s doorframe, looking through the open door.

Suga’s room was vaguely lit by the city lights outside their building, casting odd shadows on the walls and ceiling. Oikawa could just make Suga’s frame in the bed and he made his way over with soft steps.

He had spent the better part of his walk home trying to figure out whether to tell Suga or not, and he still didn’t have a definite answer. In one hand he wanted to tell Suga, but on the other hand, he was scared shitless just thinking about it. He just couldn’t predict what would happen, how Suga would react.

Oikawa bit his lip, once more thinking through what he should do, and decided that there was no time like right now. Even if Suga wasn’t ready for anything, even if he’d respond in kind to his feelings, Oikawa should tell him.

In other words, this was the moment that Oikawa decided to seize, as he laid next to Suga, over the covers.

Suga didn’t stir when Oikawa propped his arm under his own head, and placed his other arm gently over Suga’s waist.

“Suga-chan?”

A sleepy “mm-hm?” came from Suga and Oikawa felt more than saw him stir a little under the covers, his head turning towards him.

It was a pivotal moment for Oikawa, but somehow he was completely calm and feeling almost weightless, and that gave him courage to say the words out loud.

“I think your mom might have been right,” Oikawa decided to start, because he knew Suga had heard her when she had off-handedly mentioned that he was in love with Suga, but he wasn’t sure if Suga had heard the others teasing him about it. “I really like you,” he said to the darkness.

“Okay,” Suga mumbled in his sleep. Oikawa held his breath, waiting for Suga to continue, or wake up. But neither happened and Oikawa started to relax, his suddenly heavy eyelids starting to droop, his own breathing calming down and matching the slow and steady rhythm of Suga’s.

“Wait, what?” Suga stirred again.

“Nothing,” Oikawa said softly, tightening his arm around Suga. “Go back to sleep. It’s nothing important, it can wait.”

Suga let out a sleepy sigh and turned his head away, mumbling another, “Okay.”

Oikawa waited until he was sure that Suga had fallen back to sleep.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready to date again,” he whispered. Even if he had finally admitted it out loud, maybe he himself wasn’t ready for more yet. After all, he had just realized his feelings, had just accepted them. He definitely needed more time to process them.

And if Suga ever felt the same way, well that would be good, but Oikawa really wasn’t in any rush. He was content for now, if things continued between them as they had been going.

If half of everything was a lot, wouldn’t just a fraction be more than enough?

 

...

 

Suga woke up slowly the next morning, coming to himself little by little, just starting to rise from his dreams.

It was quiet in the apartment, as it always was when Suga woke up before the sun was up.

But something was different that morning.

It wasn’t dark.

Suga could see the light in his room when he cracked his eyes open, squinting against the brightness. But how was that possible? It was almost the end of the January. It should be dark so early in the morning. And he was certain that he had shut off the lights in his room when he went to bed.

He wasn’t too preoccupied with the sudden brightness though. There was the faintest tickling somewhere deep in his mind that he had missed something important last night. He could remember Oikawa coming to his bed when he really tried to think about it, but couldn’t for the life of him think of a reason why Oikawa would do that.

Suga rose to sit on his bed, finally grasping on the fact that it was bright in his room, the winter sun filtering through his window, when he noticed the time.  

11:04

Suga was stock-still.

He had slept... He had...

Tears started to gather in Suga’s eyes when he came to the realization that he had _slept in._ And that hadn’t happened since he started to seriously date Terushima.

He had _finally_ been able to sleep in and he was over the moon with happiness, everything else he had been thinking about pushed to the side to be figured out later.

Nothing else mattered in that moment, but the wonderful fact that Suga had slept way past six am. He fell to lie back in his bed, his limbs stretched out so he was taking up the whole bed with his body. He could feel wetness slide down his cheeks as the happy tears kept coming.

He couldn’t wait to tell Oikawa about that moment, how happy he was feeling, how free and light he experienced his whole existence in that single moment in his quiet and bright room.

 

...

 

“Hey,” Hanamaki greeted when Suga opened the front door for him, Matsukawa coming close behind him.

“Hey, come in.” Suga smiled brightly and let them come in and close the front door on their own.

“You look happy.” Matsukawa stated when he took off his shoes.

 _Could it be because Oikawa’s thing with Kageyama came to an end?_ Hanamaki wondered, as he too observed Suga’s outpouring joy.

“I slept in till 11 in the morning,” Suga said as he sat down on the couch under the window. 

“Please, don’t rub your fabulous and carefree artist’s lifestyle on us who work from 7 am to 5 pm.” Matsukawa said and rubbed his chin in slight annoyance. Hanamaki smiled with sympathy, knowing that his boyfriend hated early mornings almost as much as he hated his job.

“No, you don’t get it.” Suga bounced closer to them again. “I haven’t slept past 6 am for nine months,” he said with every meaning in the world in his voice.

“Seriously?” Hanamaki asked, his eyebrows rising high. “You woke up that early _every_ morning?”

“Yes.” Suga answered with heavy importance and stress on the word. “I cried from happiness this morning when I woke up, when I realized I slept 13 hours.”

“I guess we’re happy for you then.” Matsukawa smiled a little.

“Thanks,” Suga said with an even brighter smile, if that was even possible. Maybe the appearance of a brighter smile came from his tone, or from the way the light was just behind him.

“So, why are you here?” He asked then.

“Oh, we’re here to take Oikawa out. Since Kageyama doesn’t want to see him again.” Matsukawa answered. They had gotten the text from Iwaizumi late last night, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa had made immediate plans to take Oikawa out to drink away his sorrow.

“Oh, I didn’t know about that.” Suga said to no one in particular, looking towards the general direction of Oikawa’s room, his smile turning smaller.“Well, um,” he turned back to them. “I think he’s in his room.” He gestured towards the hallway.

“Great, thanks.” Hanamaki said and took of down the hallway. He could still hear Matsukawa and Suga talking as he neared Oikawa’s room.

“Are you coming out with us this time?”

“Thanks for asking, but no. I’ve planned to sit at home, eat trash, watch bad movies and go to bed in hopes of sleeping in tomorrow morning too.” Suga answered, some of the earlier pep in his voice gone.

“Alright.” Matsukawa chuckled and Hanamaki could see in his mind eye how he put his hands in his pocket with the sound. He could picture the small smile on his boyfriend’s lips from his light tone of voice.

“But next time you have to come with us.” Matsukawa said, but everything else after that was lost to Hanamaki as he knocked on Oikawa’s open door.

“Why are you here?” Oikawa asked when he looked up from his laptop.

“We’re going out.”

“Why?”

“Because we heard about your break up, and we’re here to make you feel better.” Hanamaki smiled widely as he spoke. “We’re going to get drunk and forget our own names. See if we finally manage to sneak into that gated and closed for public part of the park.”

“Is your solution to everything to drink alcohol?” Oikawa smiled with amusement, closing the laptop.

“Of course. It makes everything better. Just ask Akaashi.”

“I’m well aware of his drinking habits.” Oikawa stated, starting to change his t-shirt to a fancier button-down.

Hanamaki was pleased that Oikawa had agreed so quickly to go out. Maybe a little too quickly...

“So, Suga’s really happy today.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Oikawa asked sarcastically.

“Kind of hard not to,” Hanamaki admitted. “But what’s the big deal with waking up at 11?”

“It has something to do with Terushima –“

“Terushima?” Hanamaki didn’t remember hearing that name before and yet it sounded somehow familiar.

“Suga’s ex-boyfriend.” Oikawa explained, throwing his t-shirt to the hamper. “They always woke up early together because he had to go to work early.”

“Oh, I get it now.” Hanamaki nodded. “Do you think it means he’s over the break up now?”

“Who knows?” Oikawa shrugged and came to the door Hanamaki was blocking. But he was too busy trying to read Oikawa to realize it. If Suga was over the break up, and Oikawa wasn’t seeing Kageyama anymore...

“Are we going?” Oikawa asked, bringing Hanamaki back to the room. 

“Oh, yeah,” he detached himself from the doorway. “Let’s go. Want to ask Suga if he wants to come too?”

“I already know he has other plans.”

“Disappointed?”

“Stop.” Oikawa said just as they came to the living room.

Suga was sitting on the couch by the wall, leaning against the armrest and his legs over the length of the couch. Matsukawa was patiently sitting on the other couch, watching whatever horror was on the TV, minute winces flashing on his face with every gruesome act in it.

“Stop what?” Hanamaki teased a little, lowering his voice to be barely audible as he followed right behind Oikawa.

“Just stop,” Oikawa said again and patted Matsukawa on the shoulder to let him know it was time to go. He looked a little relieved when he got up and Hanamaki knew he was just happy not to see what was causing the pained screams of horror anymore that were filling the living room.

“Are you really not coming Suga?” Hanamaki asked as Matsukawa went with Oikawa to the front door.

“No. But have fun.” Suga wished.

Hanamaki was disappointed. “Last time you promised that next time you’d come with us.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up for you guys some time, though.” Suga smiled and it was another one of those smiles that proved to Hanamaki how it had been so easy for Oikawa to crush on his roommate.

“You can make it up to us right now.”

“How?” Suga narrowed his eyes just a fraction, clearly suspicious of something. Apparently with everything else Suga was, he was also fairly intuitive. No wonder he got along so well with Oikawa. There might be another reason why the two enjoyed each other’s company so much too, and there was one easy way to find out.

“Kiss Oikawa.”

“What?” Suga looked beyond taken aback. Was it the casual tone Hanamaki suggested it in or just the suggestion?

“He’s kidding.” Oikawa said immediately, grabbing a hold on the collar of Hanamaki’s jacket and dragging him to the front door too. Hanamaki locked his eyes with Matsukawa and saw the same mischievousness mirrored there. “Don’t wait up,” Oikawa called to Suga.

“I won’t.” Hanamaki heard Suga’s voice, and it sounded a little unsure. Was it really that bad that he had suggested Suga to kiss Oikawa?

The answer apparently was yes, if the not at all gentle way Oikawa pushed Hanamaki and Matsukawa out the door was used as a proof in the court of law.  

“What is wrong with you?” Oikawa hissed when he closed the front door after them.

Hanamaki frowned because of the brusque handling, straightening his jacket. “I was helping you.”

“In what?” Oikawa’s voice rose higher.

“To get you together with Suga.” Hanamaki answered like it was obvious. At least in his opinion it _should_ be obvious.

“Why would I want that?”

“Because you like Suga. And he’s finally moved on from his ex.”

“Just stop.” Oikawa said again, clearly done with everything in the world, and started to descend the stairs.

“Do you think it’s because of the Kageyama thing?” Hanamaki turned to ask from Matsukawa, who was still standing beside him.

“Probably,” he answered, as they both watched Oikawa walk down the stairs. “But I have a feeling it’s something else too.”

Hanamaki heard Oikawa’s steps grow quieter and further as he kept descending the stairs.

“Do you think Iwaizumi knows?”

Matsukawa shrugged. “I can text him,” he said, fishing his cell from his jeans’ back pocket.

“I’m fine with drinking alone too.” Oikawa called from the first floor, prompting for them to catch up with him.

“We’re coming.” Hanamaki called back, starting to hop down the stairs two at a time, Matsukawa following him after he had sent the text.

“What kept you?” Oikawa demanded to know when they reached him.

“We were making out,” Matsukawa answered immediately. Even Hanamaki would’ve believed the lie if he didn’t know better.

“Thanks for saving me from seeing that. Don’t want to lose my dinner in the stairwell.” Oikawa joked with a smirk.

Hanamaki was glad to see Oikawa was already over whatever it had been that had caused him to act like a Grouch only a minute earlier. His mood swings were suspicious though and needed some detective work.

“Let’s go,” Matsukawa clapped Oikawa on the shoulder, gently shoving him out the door, mimicking the way Oikawa had pushed them out of his apartment. Oikawa laughed when he almost lost his footing in the snow outside. The hilarious flailing of his arms made Hanamaki and Matsukawa join him in laughter as small fresh snowflakes fell from the dark clouds.

The detective work could wait.

This night was to have fun, to get drunk and help Oikawa get over the guy he hadn’t been dating.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, introspection is hard... 
> 
> I know there's a bit of a jump from Suga's POV to Hanamaki's, but I wanted to use that bit as a flashback in a future chapter, so I didn't put it here. I hope it doesn't feel or read too choppy :/ 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> "How are babies made?"  
> "What are you reading?"  
> "Harry Potter. Sorry, my mind made a weird association. You can ignore me now."


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited reveal of the mysterious big red gift that has been sitting in Suga and Oikawa's living room for 99 days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **SPOILERS** for the fifth Harry Potter book, the order of the phoenix.  
>  If you haven't read the book, or seen the movie, and don't want it to be spoiled for you, look out for the brackets I put in. It's only one sentence, in the middle of the chapter, but I closed a couple of sentences before and after that.

 

Oikawa hated his life.

Scratch that.

He hated his friends who kept buying him drink after drink.

No, scratch that too.

He hated that he got hungover so easily, and how he wasn’t built to deal with it at all. It sounded lame, put like that, but described it well enough to be accurate.

Oikawa had no recollection of how he got home last night, but somehow he had managed it. He had woken up in his own bed, still dressed in the clothes he had worn out, and had just about been able to stand upright to take a shower.

But that had been it and now he was sitting on the tiled bathroom floor, leaning his head on the closed lid of the toilet seat. The room was only illuminated by the light pouring in through the small window. He was sure it would burn out his retinas if someone turned the lights on. One hundred percent sure.

But it had been a fun night, that much Oikawa could remember, and he was sure that that joy had continued until he had crashed in his own bed.  

He was regretting it now, and he could hear quiet footsteps approaching. When he looked to the open door, he saw Suga lean to the doorway.  

“I’m sorry, do you need the bathroom?” Oikawa lifted his head a little.

“No, I just came to check on you,” Suga told him in a soft voice. “How are you feeling?”

There was a small amused smile on Suga’s face and Oikawa would have said something about him finding anything funny about his current situation if he wasn’t feeling so poorly.

“I’m alright. But I don’t think I can move right now.”

“That’s okay.” Suga’s smile turned kind. “How’s your head?”

“I don’t know how, or at which point, but someone definitely sneaked in and installed a heavy bass and drum speakers in my head and I don’t know how to turn them off.” Oikawa groaned and rested his head against his arm that was now draped over the toilet.

“I’ll bring you some pain killers,” Suga said and left Oikawa alone for the moment.

Oikawa sighed and closed his eyes. He tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the pounding in his head, but Suga returned before he managed to think about anything else.

“Here.” Suga kept speaking in a soft voice and handed Oikawa a pill and a glass of water. Oikawa opened his eyes to take them and finished the whole glass of water after he swallowed the pill.

“Did you at least have fun?” Suga asked and leaned against the sink, taking back the empty glass.

“Yeah.” Oikawa admitted and leaned his head back down against his arm.

“I’m glad.”

“But I swear I’m done drinking. Never again.” Oikawa knew, and he knew that Suga knew, that that was an impossible promise to keep.

“Are you going to spend the whole day here?” Suga asked, the tone of amusement still ever present in his voice.

“Bathrooms are cool.” Oikawa answered. “I think I’ll hang here for a bit.”

Suga’s smile widened and Oikawa noticed how he tried to bite it down.

“I’ll let you be then, in the _cool_ bathroom.”

“Mm...” Oikawa dropped his eyes from Suga’s face and he saw his legs move past him towards the door.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Mm...”

Sudden pain flashed in his eyes and spiked through Oikawa’s head when the bathroom light turned on.

“Aah!” Oikawa pressed his closed eyes against his arm. 

“Oops, sorry.” Suga chuckled just outside the bathroom.

“Suga...” Oikawa wailed. “You did that on purpose.

“You can’t prove a thing.” Oikawa heard Suga’s voice coming further down the hallway.

“I hate you!” He shouted as loudly as he braved with his pounding head.

“You love me!” Suga countered.

And who was Oikawa to say anything to that.

 

...

 

“You’re alive,” Suga smiled when Oikawa dragged his feet into the living room a couple of hours later. He had moved to his bedroom earlier, in hopes of sleeping in case it’d cure his hangover. He succeeded in the sleeping part of the plan, but it didn’t help with his poor state.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Oikawa disagreed quietly and noticed Suga’s smile soften with sympathy when he went to sit on the same couch with him.

Oikawa slumped a little lower on the couch, lifting his legs on the coffee table. “This is all Makki and Mattsun’s fault and I hope they’re feeling as bad as I am.”

“At least they got you home safely.” Suga carefully brushed Oikawa’s hair off his forehead.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Oikawa had to admit. “Wait,” he said suddenly and straightened a little to look at Suga. “Were you up when I came home?”

“No, but I woke up to it.”

Oikawa winced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Suga laughed softly. “You have a lovely singing voice.”

“I was singing?”

“Mm-hm.” Suga nodded with an amused grin. “Quite loudly.”

“Oh no...” Oikawa hid his face in his hands.

”Did you guys sing karaoke last night again?”

“No.” Although Oikawa wasn’t a hundred percent sure about that, still a little hazy about last night’s events.

“But you had fun?”

Oikawa let out a weary sigh as he brought his hands down. “I must have. Or this headache really isn’t worth it.”

Suga's sympathetic smile turned even more so. “You should eat something,” he said and reached over to brush Oikawa’s hair off his forehead again. 

Oikawa closed his eyes at Suga’s feather-light touch. “I don’t think I can eat yet.”

“I probably should have noticed this way earlier, but you don’t have hangover food?” Suga asked, his fingers diligently keeping up with the gentle brushes through Oikawa’s hair.

“No,” Oikawa shook his head, and with a soft exhale of content under Suga’s touch, he leaned his side against Suga’s bent knees. “I remember talking a lot yesterday.”

“What about?” Suga asked softly, his fingers starting to massage Oikawa’s scalp here and there, and holy shit, did that feel good in Oikawa’s opinion.  

“I don’t remember. Something dumb, Mattsun bitching about his work, Makki being all sappy and gross with him.” Oikawa thought back.

 _And you_ , he said to himself. He vividly remembered talking about Suga, and he hated the fact that he got so easily talkative when he was drunk and that his best friends took advantage of it.

“You really have to go out with us the next time. Makki and Mattsun kept insisting on it the whole night.”

“You want me to go out with you guys just to shut them up?”

“Yes.”

Suga chuckled lightly, clearly mindful of Oikawa’s headache and it was sweet and thoughtful and Oikawa wanted to squirm to ease the fondness filling him. The shivers Suga’s fingers elicited out of him with every brush and stroke through his hair had nothing to do with it, of course.

“And I want to see you drunk again,” Oikawa mused with a wistful smile. “You become so sweet and adorable.”

“Aren’t I always sweet and adorable?” Suga asked and Oikawa noted the knowing self-aware tone of voice.

“Yes, but you’re even more sweet and adorable than usual.” Oikawa admitted with a half-lidded gaze. He was turning into putty under Suga’s soft touches, his consciousness starting to dribble down towards sleep.

“You want to compromise the health of my liver just so you could witness me being more sweet and adorable than usual?”

“Yes, please. You’re so sweet and adorable.”

“Okay, can we stop saying sweet and adorable now?”

“See, you’re always so sweet and adorable.” Oikawa pointed out with a silly smile. Why was he being so gross and sappy around Suga? Was the hangover really affecting him that much? At least Suga didn’t seem to notice the excess of honey dripping in Oikawa’s voice.

“Stop it now,” Suga laughed.

“Sweet and adorable.”

“Oikawa...”

“Sweet and adorable, sweet and adorable, sweet and adorable, sweet and ado –“Oikawa spoke a thousand words per minute until Suga shut him up with a pillow thrown in his face. He blinked quickly out of shock and surprise.

“So childish,” Suga sighed.

“Am not.” Oikawa refuted with a whine that made Suga scoff in response.

“I’d love to continue with the bickering on whether you are childish or not, and by the way you are,” Suga said and he apparently just had to get another say on the matter. “But I have to go.”

Oikawa noticed Suga glance at the clock before he pushed Oikawa forward so he could slip out from under him. “Will you be okay?”

“Where are you going?” Oikawa couldn’t remember Suga saying anything about having plans. He hoped Suga wasn’t just making something up so he could go.

“To the movies with Asahi. He wanted to see that new movie... I don’t even remember what he name was, and asked if I’d go with him.”

“Alright,” Oikawa nodded, deciding to believe the legitimacy of Suga’s explanation, and fell to lie on his side on the couch now that he couldn’t lean into Suga anymore. “Have fun.”

“Will you be alright alone?” Suga repeated his earlier question.

“Yes,” Oikawa said with exasperation that came out of nowhere. “Just go, I’ll be fine. I’m not a child, Suga-chan.”

“To see the day when that becomes true.”

Oikawa couldn’t see Suga anymore, with his eyes closed, but heard the amusement in Suga’s voice, telling him that he wasn’t all that serious.

“Just go,” Oikawa pushed with his hand towards where he thought Suga was, but when he couldn’t contact anything but air, he brought his hand down, tucking it under his head. He thought he heard the camera’s shutter right before he heard the front door open and close. At least it sounded like one of Suga’s cameras.

If Suga had taken a photo of him looking hungover and rumpled, he might have to kill Suga for that. Or maybe not, if the photo turned out alright.

If it becomes blackmail-material, though...

 

...

 

Suga knocked on Asahi’s front door, and waited all of two seconds before the door opened. He was starting to suspect that people were waiting behind their doors for someone, or just him, to knock so they could open it too suddenly to be a coincidence.

“Hey,” Asahi greeted him.

“Were you waiting for me behind that door or something?” Suga asked with ever growing suspicion in his voice.

“No,” Asahi said, looking a little unsure and harassed by Suga’s voice. “I had just put my coat on when you knocked, so I was there, but I wasn’t waiting.” Asahi kept speaking a little unsurely and Suga regretted coming across so moody.

“Sorry, I’m not accusing you of anything,” Suga hurried to assure Asahi. He knew that Asahi didn’t like any sort of confrontation, whether it was directed at him or just exhibited close to him.

“Are you okay?” Asahi asked, studying Suga carefully, like he was trying to find something off.

“I’m fine,” Suga smiled softly.

 _I just experienced a weird moment with Oikawa and I’m not dealing with it well, but it has nothing to do with you,_ he thought to himself. He really was a little distraught that he had been struck with overflowing affection for Oikawa just fifteen minutes ago.

Seriously, where had that come from? Was it because of the way Oikawa had come to him for comfort again? Was it because of the way he had started to comb Oikawa’s hair without a moment’s thought?

Suga shook the mental image of Oikawa’s physical closeness and the overall soft way he felt about it, pushing the thought deep, deep down to be pondered on later.

“Ready to go then?” He asked and Asahi nodded, stepping out of his apartment.

It was a short walk to the closest movie theatre, and the whole way there Suga listened to Asahi talk about his work, raving about the kids and about them learning this and accomplishing that.

“Sorry,” Asahi said meekly when they stepped inside the warm theatre from the cold streets. “I just spent ten minutes talking and not giving you any chance to say anything.”

“I don’t mind,” Suga assured him with a kind smile. “I’m glad that you enjoy your work. You’re really in your element with the kids, with teaching.”

“I guess,” Asahi was encouraged to smile with his words.

“I’d love to actually see you in action someday,” Suga wished.

“You could probably get a job with something to do with kids too with your sociology degree.” Asahi said innocently as they settled at the end of a cue to get tickets.

“That’s not going to happen.” Suga said resolutely and it seemed to awaken Asahi’s concerned attention.

“Are you really not going to do anything with your degree?”

“I don’t find any application for that degree appealing at the moment,” he said while Asahi dealt with buying their tickets.

“Didn’t you want to be a social worker, especially dealing with children, and adoption and orphanages?”

“Yeah,” Suga sighed as they started to make their way towards the correct theatre.

“I bet you’d be really good at it.” Asahi sounded absolutely certain of that. “You’re really caring, but really strong too. I think you could deal with a hard job like that, you were built for it. Kind of like Daichi was practically made to be a pediatric nurse, dealing with sick kids, taking care of them and being strong for them when they couldn’t be because they were too scared and fragile to.”

“Daichi was made for that job, I agree with you.”

“I know I couldn’t do that,” Asahi admitted quietly.

“Your job is just as important as Daichi’s is.” Suga encouraged him. “You’re teaching the future generation.”

Asahi smiled a little, and Suga was glad to see that Asahi was proud of his job. “Without people like you the future of Japan would be bleak.”

But that smile died when he looked at Suga again. “Have you thought about getting another degree then? Something that would appeal to you?”

Suga mulled over Asahi’s question when they made their way down to their seats. Where was this coming from?

“Are you worried about something?” He asked when they settled down, taking off their coats.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t trust that you could make a living with being a photo artist. I just don’t want you to fall on nothing when you can’t sell your photos anymore.”

“You sound like my mom,” Suga said with a wry smile.

“I thought she supported your career choice.”

“She does, but she has her worries too.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Asahi looked a little stricken. It was unheard of for Suga’s mother to be anything but absolutely supportive.

“Its fine,” Suga assured Asahi again. “You don’t need to worry, but it’s sometimes nice to know that you do. It shows that you care.”

“I do care.”

“I know, thank you for that. But you don’t need to worry about me. I’m happy with my choices, and I’m not looking to change anything right now.”

“Okay,” Asahi nodded, but Suga noticed the wary look Asahi pointed at him, so he decided to change the subject.

“Do you know if Tanaka is dating anyone?” He asked and he was glad that Asahi allowed the change of conversation topic. 

“No, I don’t think so.” Asahi sounded a little unsure. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Suga shrugged. “I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

“Noya said he’s been staying late at the office, some big project. I don’t really know.”

“How are you and Noya doing?”

Suga hadn’t heard anything about the two of them lately, and wondered what had happened development-wise since he had told Asahi that he knew about the two of them.

Asahi blushed, like Suga knew he would. “We’re good.”

“Am I still the only one to know?”

“I think Tanaka knows too. Noya told him.” Asahi admitted. “But we haven’t told anyone else.”

“May I be so forward as to ask why you haven’t?” Suga asked, knowing that there were others in their building who already knew or at least suspected that Asahi and Noya were dating.

“We’re not ready.”

Suga tilted his head to look at Asahi just as the lights were turned down a little and the previews started.

“It’s just going to be hard with everyone knowing, because then everyone is going to keep looking at us and analyzing us and then the rumors will start about everything.”

“So it’s preservation?” Suga wanted a clarification. “It’s not just because you want to hide your relationship from your closest friends?”

“Yeah,” Asahi nodded and the movie trailer filled with loud explosions and an epic booming voice foreboding hard times for the movie's main character changed into another one. Some silly romantic comedy, apparently filled with awkward touches, shy looks and funny little crushes.

Suga could understand that, wanting to be protective of the relationship one was in because they couldn’t anticipate what would or could happen. But it was a little hurtful too to think that his friend didn’t trust him to treat the relationship said friend was in with respect and let them be happy in it.

“Can you imagine starting to date,” Asahi paused to think for a second, “Let’s say Oikawa.”

Suga looked to Asahi with widened eyes, a little paranoid that Asahi decided to use Oikawa as a prospective candidate in this scenario for him to date.

“Hypothetically,” Asahi added when he noticed Suga’s look. “And everyone in the building would see when you’re happy and they would wonder amongst each other why you’re shining bright like the sun. They’d of course come to the conclusion that you were happy, or had amazing sex. Or they’d see when you’re tense and figure out that you’re fighting and they’d wonder why you’re fighting. Literally everything about the relationship so close to them to witness would be under a microscope and analyzed and talked behind your backs.”

Suga swallowed down the lump of trepidation Asahi managed to give him with his depiction.

“We just didn’t want to deal with that,” Asahi said quietly, his eyes glued to the screen.

Suga followed his example, turning his gaze to the screen as well, but unseeing anything but the blur of colors and shapes with his unfocused eyes.

“It started with just friends with benefits, but it turned out to be more than just that after a while, and it was easy to continue everything under the veil of secrecy. We didn’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings with hiding it. It just was easier that way.” Asahi spoke quietly when the movie theatre's lights were turned all the way down and everything was pitch black for a second before the production company logos started to roll on the screen, indicating the start of the movie.

“I understand.”

“And I just used Oikawa as an example. I didn’t mean to imply that you’d actually date him.”

“I didn’t mind,” Suga smiled. He really didn’t mind the idea of dating Oikawa.

Well, hello there crush!

But Asahi’s hypothetical words had struck a chord with Suga, and it gave him enough to think that he was sure he’d missed most of the movie when the theatre lights turned back on and everyone inside started to make their way out.

 

...

 

Oikawa was leaning against a kitchen counter when he heard the front door open and he straightened to his full height when he turned to look who it was. He smiled a little when he recognized Suga’s tuft of hair when he pulled his beanie off.

“How was the movie?” Oikawa asked and Suga looked up suddenly with surprise from taking off his shoes. He probably hadn’t expected Oikawa to be there.

“It was alright, I guess.” Suga shrugged. “A bit tame, but overall enjoyable.”

“Do you mean tame as in lacking in gore and horror?” Oikawa slipped teasing into his voice.

“Yes,” Suga smiled with his answer and Oikawa chuckled appropriately. “What are you making?”

“Just some ramen. Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“I made plenty for both of us, just in case.”

“Thanks,” Suga smiled and disappeared down the hallway.

Oikawa sighed softly, happy that his roommate was back home. The apartment wasn’t the same without Suga, and Oikawa had begun to miss him whenever he wasn’t there.

When Suga returned to the kitchen, dressed in more comfortable clothes, he sat down by the island, this time waiting for Oikawa to serve him a bowl. Usually it was the other way around, and Oikawa kind of liked this more.

“Are you feeling better now?”

“I guess,” Oikawa considered his state. “Just kind of hollow because I haven’t eaten all day. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“No, I get what you mean.” Suga nodded and Oikawa glanced over his shoulder to look at him. Suga was looking around their apartment. “Has anyone else been here today?”

“No,” Oikawa shook his head and brought Suga his serving of ramen. “It was kind of nice, being all alone like that.”

“Thanks,” Suga said first to the food, then, “and if you want to be alone more, you can tell me. I know I spend a lot of time at home, but I can always go out too.”

 Oikawa went to sit down next to him with his food. “But I like it when you’re here.”

Suga smiled in acknowledgment of his words.

And Oikawa was certain his stomach dropped all the way to Tanaka and Nishinoya’s apartment at the sight of it.

 

...

 

Oikawa rubbed his eyes and glared down at his cell phone that was offending him with every text notification. It was Iwaizumi, as expected, bombarding him with reminders to take a break. Oikawa could mute his phone, but he didn’t feel like reaching for it to do so. He listened it to bing a while longer, wondering if Iwaizumi was sending him one character at a time, since the texts came in quickly succession, one after another.

He could take a break. He had finished what he had meant to, and had just begun with the next step in his plan, to get ahead of himself. He definitely should take a break. But Suga was home.

Ever since Oikawa had admitted his feelings towards Suga to himself, he had both feared and loved every second he had spent with Suga. He was afraid that he’d blurt out his feelings and make everything awkward between them. But he was absolutely delighted that Suga didn’t mind whenever he sought contact or comfort from him, allowing them to happen. He liked that Suga smiled and laughed at everything funny or sweet he said or did, and matched him in every banter and tease.

He should tell Suga how he felt – he knew that in the very core of his being. He just wasn’t ready yet.

That in mind, he stretched his arms high over his head and mentally prepared himself to spend another five minutes with Suga.

As he had expected, he found Suga in the living room, and he settled down with a sigh on one of the couches, taking up the full length of it with his body.

“Iwaizumi text you?” Suga asked and Oikawa turned his head to look at him. He was sitting in the armchair, looking too cozy curled in it like a cat and making Oikawa feel a little jealous. Suga’s eyes were glued to the book he was reading and Oikawa knew that he hadn’t even lifted them up from the page when he had asked the question.

“Maybe...” Oikawa admitted. “He said that you two worry about me.”

“We do,” Suga turned a page, his eyes moving along the printed words, his very appearance unchanged by their topic of conversation.

Oikawa watched him for a second, or perhaps a very long minute. “You don’t need to worry,” he said and Suga finally lifted his eyes to look straight into Oikawa’s.

Oikawa hated how the soft look in Suga’s eyes could melt him.

“I think we do.” Suga’s voice was as soft as his eyes. “It’s good that you’re taking a break now.”

Oikawa hummed in what could be an assent, and rubbed his eyes under his glasses, blocking and obscuring Suga’s expression from view.

“Do you mind if I watch X-files?” He asked then. He was supposed to take a short break, not a long one, but lying down on the couch had changed his mind.

“No,” Suga answered with a shake of his head.

“It won’t disturb you?” Oikawa made sure when he got up and went to put the TV on.

“Your talking is disturbing me.”

Oikawa smiled a little and poked Suga’s cheek when he walked past him. Suga tried to swat his hand away, but missed, thanks to Oikawa’s quick reflexes, and he skipped away with a light-hearted chuckle.

“Are you going to keep bothering me?”

“No, you won’t hear another beep from me, promise.” Oikawa flashed an appeasing smile and crossed his heart with his fingers. Suga seemed to accept it and continued to read.

Keeping his promise, Oikawa settled down back on the couch, this time sitting so he could simultaneously watch his favorite show, and now and then glance at Suga. There was something transfixing about Suga’s calm presence as he read, and it eased Oikawa into serenity.

He managed to watch almost an entire 40 minute episode, barely following it, before Suga broke the quiet atmosphere.

“Oikawa, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what?” He answered easily, not looking at Suga but the conclusion of the episode.

“How are babies made?”

Oikawa had to think over Suga’s words to be sure he had heard him right.

“What are you reading?” He asked with incredulity, not understanding how Suga came up with such a question. He took a look at the faded cover of the book, but couldn’t read the title.

“Harry Potter,” Suga answered, lifting the book a little, and promptly hiding behind it, as if he had just realized what he had asked and was feeling a little embarrassed. “Sorry, my mind made a weird association. You can ignore me now.”

Oikawa wanted to laugh, so he bit his bottom lip. It didn’t stop his lips from growing into a wide smile though.

“Why are you asking me how babies are made? I thought you’d know already.”

“I do know, and my mind just jumped there, I don’t know. We can move past this now.”

A chuckle he couldn’t hold anymore passed by Oikawa’s lips. “You were reading Harry Potter, and your brain jumped to making babies. Okay, I think I’m following you now.” Oikawa nodded, not following Suga’s mind and its ways at all.

“No, it’s not like that. I just...” Suga sighed, closing the book but leaving his finger between the pages. “If you had kids and they came to ask you how babies are made, how would you answer them?” He asked, looking straight and evenly into Oikawa’s eyes.

“Hmm... I’ve never really thought about that.”

“Well, me neither.” Suga said, opening his book again. “And you don’t need to answer. I know I worded the question weirdly and I don’t know why I even asked.”

Suga continued reading again, and Oikawa continued watching him read again. His laughter died while he studied Suga, and he eventually turned his eyes back to the TV. He wasn’t focusing on what was happening there, his mind stuck on Suga’s question.

“I’d tell them that babies are made with purely platonic forehead kisses.” Oikawa said after a long, but comfortable, silence.

Suga looked up to him with a serious expression. “You really are an X-files nerd, aren’t you?”

“Doesn’t that make you one too, to know to call me that from what I said?”

“It’s your fault. I never watched X-files until you moved here.”

“What a dull life you must have led until you met me.” Oikawa teased with a smirk.

“No, it was blessed and peaceful and full of rainbows and unicorns.” Suga countered without a moment’s hesitation.

“But you like your life more now that I’m in it, don’t you?” Oikawa voiced it like he was teasing, but he really kind of wanted to know for real.

“Jury’s still out on that.”

“Fair enough,” Oikawa nodded, knowing what Suga’s smile meant – he was glad that they knew each other, that they were friends and roommates. If only that was enough for Oikawa.

((

“By the way, why are you reading Harry Potter? The books must have been spoiled for you ages ago.”

“I’m rereading the fifth one.”

“Why?”

“Maybe this time Sirius won’t die.”

Oikawa wanted to laugh again and that time he didn’t hold it back. He bit his bottom lip though, when he felt the threat of blurting out the words he wasn’t ready to say yet.

))

“You’re so wonderfully weird,” he managed to say when he swallowed down _I really like you._ He could deal with the consequences of saying those words. He wasn’t ready to deal with anything else closer to revealing his feelings to Suga.

“I think you’ve said that about me before.” Suga smiled like he was pleased and Oikawa’s heart made a funny little stutter.

If he’d known that admitting his feelings would cause so much abnormal fluttering in his body to occur, he would’ve kept lying to himself. Maybe. Probably not.

No, definitely not. This was somehow better, Oikawa thought and their front door was opened without a knock.

“We’re here to raid your fridge!” Bokuto informed in a loud voice when he came in unannounced and without a warning, Kuroo following him in, fulfilling the term “we” Bokuto used.

“We don’t have food,” Oikawa fibbed, miffed that his alone time with Suga was once again disturbed. He focused back on his show, ignoring the two knuckleheads that were already rummaging around in their kitchen.

“A lie, that is.” Kuroo said, opening the fridge far too loudly for it to be safe, the contents clinking and clanking inside it. “Aha! A lie!”

Oikawa heard Suga’s quiet chuckle, and he glanced quickly, maybe for their eyes to meet, but Suga’s eyes were still imprinted on his book.

“By the way, Suga,” Bokuto called from the kitchen. “Akaashi said you could go up.”

Suga looked up from his book. “It’s not seven o’clock yet,” he stated calmly.

“I know. I’m just forwarding a message.”

“Alright,” Suga did a small nod, and continued reading. It was only ten minutes till seven, and Oikawa had a feeling Suga wanted to finish the chapter he was reading before that.

“What kind of problem did you come up with?” Oikawa asked. He remembered Suga telling him about Akaashi’s request.

“He said it could be anything, but came to me with a couple of options, so it’s at least somehow connected to his –“ Suga stopped in middle of his sentence, eyes glued to the kitchen and on whatever was going on there. “Don’t eat that.”

Oikawa looked over the back of the couch he was reclining on and saw Kuroo standing by the island, frozen mid-movement – mouth open wide and hand holding a mochi, going for a bite.

“Suga was saving that,” Oikawa told him.

“You know that mochi’s the only thing I don’t share,” Suga said.

“What if I got you a replacement mochi later?” Kuroo offered, his hand still holding the treat in front of his mouth.

“No, put it away.” Suga was adamant and Kuroo did as Suga told him to, although reluctantly.

“You wouldn’t want to eat it anyway. Suga already dipped it into about a dozen different chili and hot sauces,” Oikawa tried to console the man.

“Seriously?” Bokuto asked, eyeing the disputed mochi warily. “Why would you do that?”

“Tastes better,” Suga answered with a small smile and shut his book. “I’m going up now,” he said to Oikawa and then directed his words towards the kitchen. “Don’t let Oikawa study.”

Oikawa made an indignant huff.

“Just tonight, or is this more permanent thing?” Kuroo asked. “I have a life outside this apartment.”

“Just tonight, don’t worry.” Suga said, getting up and stretching his body out of the slump it had been in. Oikawa’s eyes may have trained on the patch of skin Suga’s stretch exposed of his stomach. “Your non-active social life won’t suffer.”

“I’ll have you know there’s nothing non-active about my social life.” Kuroo informed with smug superiority in his voice as he came to the living room holding a plate of assorted snacks. “It’s busy like a bee’s nest.”

“I can vouch for that.” Bokuto chimed in, trailing after Kuroo and holding two beers.

“I was kind of saving those,” Oikawa told him, motioning towards the bottles. Bokuto looked down to him for a second, and then offered one of the beers to him with a smile.

Oikawa accepted it with an amused exhale and Bokuto went to get another one from the fridge.

“I mean it, don’t let him study.” Suga said again.

“Wow, it really sounds like Suga doesn’t want you to get your master’s degree.” Kuroo said to Oikawa.

“Yeah, what with that Suga-chan?” Oikawa asked with a grin, joining Kuroo with the teasing.

“You’re impossible,” Suga told them with fond exasperation, if that even was a thing. “I’m going now.”

“Talk well,” Bokuto wished, sitting down on the same couch with Kuroo.

Oikawa waited for two full minutes, letting the two men get settled down and breaking into their food, before he flipped the TV off.  

“What are you doing?” Kuroo asked. “Not that I mind that you turned off X-files, but still. What are you doing?”

“I have a question.” Oikawa answered seriously.

“Okay,” Bokuto eyed him warily, his gaze flitting between him and Kuroo.

“You remember when we played Twister?”

“And Suga challenged you to a game one on one?” Bokuto asked. “Yeah, we heard that,” he answered Oikawa’s silent question. “Did you finally get to it?”

“No,” Oikawa brushed the innuendos in Bokuto’s voice off quickly. “Remember when Suga casually mentioned that Iwa-chan’s a bottom, and you got all excited?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto answered nonchalantly. “What about it?”

“What did you mean?”

Up until now Kuroo had stayed silent, following the conversation between Oikawa and Bokuto.

“It means that Suga wasn’t always embarrassed about sex.”

Oikawa turned to look at Kuroo, waiting for him to continue.

“He was a lot more frank when the subject of sex came up, or if someone asked if he got some.”

“When did the embarrassment start?”

“When Suga started dating Terushima.” Bokuto answered.

“Yeah, I hate to admit this, since Suga was so broken after the break up, but I don’t think Terushima was all that good for Suga.” Kuroo said seriously.

“You saw them together right?” Oikawa asked, not fully comprehending Kuroo’s opinion.

“Yes, and they were happy and I was happy for Suga that he was happy. But Suga wasn’t quite “Suga” with him. He got so _easily_ embarrassed about sex. And yeah, we liked to tease him about it, but it also worried us.”

“Especially in the beginning when we noticed it.” Bokuto chimed in.

“So we kept teasing him, hoping that he’d snap out of it.”

“I think that Terushima liked the bashful Suga, and Suga noticed it and behaved like that because of it.” Bokuto brought his knees up in front of his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“So, in the hopes of Suga becoming himself again, I was kind of glad that they broke up.” Kuroo admitted, sounding a little ashamed, as he should, that he had wished for his friend’s relationship to crash and burn.

“I’m actually with Kuroo on that,” Bokuto looked away like Kuroo had when he spoke.

Oikawa tried not to judge them, understanding that they were worried about their friend.

“There’s another reason too why I was a little glad that they broke up.” Kuroo said. “Want to hear it or are you already writing our names in your list of people you hate?” Oikawa noted the hint of joking in Kuroo’s voice.

“There’s another reason?” He asked and Kuroo nodded. “Then, yes please, tell me,” he urged the man to continue, feeling like he was finally grasping onto something very momentous about Suga. He saw Bokuto shoot a wary glance towards Kuroo, like this was news to him too.

“Suga never told his mom about Terushima.” Kuroo said, and it was like the heavens had opened and everything was illuminated in white light as the comprehension came to Oikawa. “If there ever was a clue that something was wrong, that was it.”

Kuroo was right. Oikawa was baffled how he hadn’t made that realization about Suga and Terushima before.

“How did you know that Suga didn’t tell his mom?” Oikawa wanted to know. He was pretty sure that wasn’t universally known in their tight-knit group of friends.

“I spoke with Daichi pretty soon after the break up and we wondered if Suga would go back to how he was, and he mentioned that Akiko-san didn’t know.” Kuroo admitted. “But it was Daichi who pointed out that there must’ve been something, maybe not wrong, but maybe a little off, why Suga never told his mom.”

“But Suga loved Terushima,” Bokuto said quietly, almost like he was only speaking to himself.

“You can love the wrong person, can’t you?” Kuroo asked with a solemn voice, not looking for an actual answer to his question.

“I bet you’re all really glad that Suga’s back to himself?” Oikawa asked with a smile to alleviate the grim atmosphere.

“Yep,” Bokuto nodded eagerly, smiling a little again. He tapped his bottle softly against Oikawa’s and they both took a sip.

“So, get ready to for Suga to ask if you have lube,” Kuroo stated far too casually and Oikawa sputtered his beer all over himself.

“Are you serious?” Oikawa asked, drying his chin in the hem of his shirt.

“No,” Kuroo was laughing like a hyena, “but you should see your face. It’s priceless.” Kuroo hit his knee with his hand with the hilarity he was experiencing. Bokuto was laughing loudly with him.

Oikawa quickly tried to smooth his face. “Why would you joke about that?”

“Duh, obviously because you like Suga,” Bokuto said cheerily.

“So?” Oikawa asked like it wasn’t a big deal. And it wasn’t. He had already talked about this extensively, first with Iwaizumi, and then with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. He could say it out loud to Kuroo and Bokuto too. He knew that the two wouldn’t go about blurting it to Suga.

“You’re not denying it anymore.” Kuroo said calmly, but the wicked grin on his face belied the tone of his voice.

“Yes, well, things change.” Oikawa shrugged. “Move on.”

“If you’re finally admitting that you like Suga, then you definitely should invest in some lube.” Kuroo offered his, probably well-meant, advice.

“We’re far from that.”

“Stop dragging your ass, Oikawa!” Bokuto exclaimed, surprising both Oikawa and Kuroo. “You’re not involved with anyone anymore and Suga is over Terushima. Just –“ Bokuto stopped to flail his arms in air in frustration and urgency and exasperation and desperation. “Just get on with it already,” he finished in a gust.

“Bo’s right,” Kuroo put his two cents in. “Suga’s finally past the whole break up thing since he’s sleeping in again. I know that with some people that would be alarming, but in Suga’s case that’s actually normal and a very good thing.” Kuroo explained quickly. “So get on with the program and kiss him and open your heart to him.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of want to see if you can squeeze more idioms into this conversation,” Oikawa teased them with a wide smirk and Kuroo actually _groaned_ in frustration, pulling on his hair.

“Are you seriously not going to tell Suga?” Bokuto asked.

Oikawa sighed. “Honestly, I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“But –“ Bokuto started, but he was interrupted.

“Anyone home?” Matsukawa called loudly when he opened the front door and walked inside like he lived in the apartment.

“You could knock before you come in, you know,” Oikawa told him as a greeting. He didn’t really mind, but felt like he should say something. He didn’t want to encourage this kind of behavior.

“Does anyone ever really knock when they come here?” Matsukawa countered and he came to stand by the couch Oikawa was sitting on.

“Yes,” Oikawa answered at the same time with Kuroo’s smug “No”. Oikawa shot him a dirty look and turned back to Matsukawa.

“Where’s Makki?” Bokuto asked when he realized that the other half of the couple didn’t follow the first into the apartment.

“He’s making dinner.”

“Did you run out of something?” Oikawa asked with a knowing tone.

“Yes and no. We need some hot sauce or something, and we were wondering if we could filch some of Suga’s.”

“Go for it.” Oikawa gestured towards the kitchen and the fridge.

“If you’re making food, does that mean that we’re invited too?” Bokuto asked hopefully.

“Fuck no,” Matsukawa answered seriously when he came back to them, a small suspiciously spicy looking bottle in his hand. “Makki is making me dinner and no one is going to come and spoil that for me.”

“It’s Makki’s birthday tomorrow isn’t it?” Oikawa asked. He didn’t _just_ remember it. He had a gift and everything all ready for him. But what did just come to him was that Matsukawa hadn’t come to him about any party preparations.

“Yeah, we’re having the surprise party here tomorrow.” Matsukawa nodded seriously, like the matter had already been discussed and agreed upon.

“Funny how I missed that memo,” Oikawa pointed out.

Matsukawa simply shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m telling you now.”

“Wait, Makki’s birthday is tomorrow?” Kuroo cut in, leaning forward on the couch. Oikawa noticed how he was eyeing the big box wrapped in bright red wrapping paper that was _still in his living room._

“He wants lots of gifts,” Matsukawa said as an answer, already waving his goodbye on his way to the front door. Oikawa wasn’t having any of that.

“Get back here,” he practically barked and Matsukawa turned to look at him with raised eyebrows. “What do you mean you’re having the party here tomorrow?”

“That,” Matsukawa nodded resolutely. “Isn’t your apartment the party central?”

“No,” Oikawa scoffed at the same time with Kuroo’s smug “Yes”.

“I hate you,” Oikawa told him casually before he turned back to Matsukawa. “Do you honestly expect me to arrange a party in a matter of ten hours?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help. I’ll take tomorrow off from work, and since you don’t need to study the whole day, I  
 know you have time. And I know that Suga will want to help too.”

Matsukawa was right with everything he had said, and Oikawa was happy to throw a birthday party to one of his best friends. What he didn’t like was the way Matsukawa had assumed that he’d help.

“When are you done with school tomorrow?”

“One,” Oikawa answered.

“Great, I’ll come pick you up after and we can go buy everything we’d need.” Matsukawa nodded along with his words and Oikawa knew he was already compiling a list of what they’d need in his head.

“Fine,” Oikawa conceded.

“Is everyone invited to the party?” Kuroo asked before Matsukawa could slip away.

“Yeah,” Matsukawa nodded and looked to Oikawa for confirmation.

“As long as no one breaks anything,” Oikawa agreed. This wasn’t the first party he was involved in throwing in this apartment and he had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last one.

“And like I said, Makki wants lots of gifts, but he’ll accept alcohol too.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Kuroo flapped his hand dismissively. “I already know what I’m going to give him.”

“It’s not that eyesore, is it?” Matsukawa pointed towards the gift to his right. “Please tell me it’s not it.”

Kuroo grinned like the freaking Cheshire cat in response and Oikawa heard Matsukawa sigh.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said then and left the apartment in long strides.

When the front door closed after him, Kuroo turned back to Oikawa. “So, back to our earlier conversation,” he said with sharp eyes boring into Oikawa. “You really have to tell Suga, okay?”

“Why are you so invested in this? Is there a bet or something?”

“No,” both Kuroo and Bokuto said simultaneously and it was suspicious.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “Look, I’ve just grasped the fact that I...” He took a big breath. “I like Suga. But that’s where it’s at. I haven’t even thought about this further, and nothing about having sex with him.”  

“Are you serious?” Bokuto asked incredulously. “Even I keep fantasizing about his ass and I’ve been together with Akaashi, _Akaashi,_ for forever.”

“Same here,” Kuroo raised his arm in the air. “Plus, it didn’t help that I heard what he sounds like when he moans.”

“You’re awful friends,” Oikawa pointed out.

“I don’t jerk off to images of Suga, jeez, drop the judgement.” Kuroo took a defensive tone. “I’m just saying that I used to wonder what it’d be like with him.”

“Oh, and the being loud during sex thing was definitely another Terushima thing.” Bokuto seemed to remember.

“True,” Kuroo nodded.

“How on Earth would you know that?” Oikawa asked, feeling a little disturbed to learn this.

“Akaashi wondered once if he was bad in bed because Suga was never loud with him.” Bokuto answered. “And trust me, Akaashi is the farthest thing from bad at sex.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Oikawa said mildly and turned his head to look out the window. “But I think sex dreams about Suga would just make this situation even harder.”

“That’s true,” Bokuto agreed with him.

“Wouldn’t if you told him how you feel about him,” Kuroo, however, sang under his breath.

Oikawa sighed again. He knew that Kuroo was right. He knew that everyone that told him to tell Suga was right. But that didn’t make the idea of telling Suga any less scary.

 

...

 

As surprise parties went, this one was fairly usual. At least in Suga’s opinion.

He had helped Oikawa and Matsukawa set everything up. Their apartment was even more colorfully decorated than it had been for Kenma’s surprise party, and even then Suga had thought that there had been an overabundance of colors.

“Did you leave anything into the store when you bought all of this?” Suga asked, referring to the wide array of decorations, when he went to hang up a series of paper lanterns from an empty curtain rod.

“No,” Oikawa answered with a smile as he helped Suga with the hanging. “I’m pretty sure we cleared the alcohol shelves too.”

“I want everything to be perfect for Makki,” Matsukawa defended, carrying the last bags they had brought up from the car to the kitchen.

Suga wondered how come Matsukawa and Hanamaki used their nicknames when they spoke about each other. He thought that they’d prefer to use each other’s first names, but Suga was still yet to hear them call each other Issei or Takahiro.

“He always goes a little overboard with everything he does for Makki,” Oikawa whispered. Suga noticed him glance towards Matsukawa, in case the man heard.

“I think it’s sweet.” Suga thought out loud.

“I agree,” Oikawa nodded, steadying Suga with a hand on his waist when he stepped down from a chair.

“Thanks,” Suga smiled at Oikawa for the help and he dropped his hand, leaving a warm glowing spot on Suga’s skin under his shirt, where his hand had been. “How long have they been together?”

“Um...” Oikawa seemed to think and count back. Suga moved the chair to another window and stepped up on it.

“Seven years, I think,” Oikawa answered, handing Suga another set of paper lanterns.

“Wow,” Suga breathed out, reaching up to wind the cord around the curtain rod that had been empty of curtains ever since Suga had moved into the apartment. “Then...” Suga started, but stopped to think if he could ask about the nicknames.

“What?” Oikawa asked curiously and the open expression on his face made up Suga’s mind.

“How come they only call each other ‘Makki’ and ‘Mattsun'? And not their first names?” He asked quietly, in case Matsukawa heard it and got offended. The man however was in kitchen, setting up everything edible, and far from earshot.

“Habit, I guess.” Oikawa said, steadying Suga again when he stepped down. He didn’t really need the help, but he didn’t mind it either. It was quite nice, really, but it made Suga wonder what made Oikawa want to help that way.

“They were friends first, calling each other ‘Makki’ and ‘Mattsun’. That’s probably where it comes from.” Oikawa explained, opening a packet of balloons. “But I’ve heard them call each other Takahiro and Issei too, when they thought they were alone.”

“You’re probably right about it being a habit," Suga said. The explanation made sense.

“Can I ask you something pertaining to nicknames?” Oikawa asked then.

“Sure,” Suga nodded, stepping up again onto a chair. Oikawa moved to partly lean and partly sit on the windowsill, next to Suga.

“Since you prefer to be called Suga, has anyone you ever dated called you Koushi?”

Suga looked down at Oikawa for a second, surprised by the question, and he had to really think back to remember if anyone ever had.

“I know that Akaashi used to, but has anyone else?” Oikawa added to his question, looking up to Suga with an open expression. Suga found it almost startling, to see how unguarded Oikawa was being.

“Terushima sometimes let it slip. But no one else.” Suga finally remembered, looking up back to what he was doing. “Why?”

“Just a question,” Oikawa said with nonchalance. “You called everyone you’ve dated by their first names, right?”

“I did,” Suga smiled a little. “It felt more personal, intimate, to do that.”

“So, hypothetically, if we were dating,” Oikawa started and Suga looked back down to his eyes, steading his hand against the wall so he wouldn’t fall down, sinking into them. “Would you call me Tooru?”  

“If you’d want me to,” Suga answered honestly. “I’d ask which you’d prefer, I always do.”

“Hmm...” Oikawa hummed, seemingly pleased by Suga’s answer and he moved away from the windowsill.

Suga took a deep steadying breath before he jumped down from the chair. Why was he suddenly so rattled again by Oikawa’s presence, his closeness?

Whatever had made Oikawa hypothesize about them dating and using first names was apparently laid to rest with Suga’s answer. Suga kind of wanted to know why Oikawa had asked, but an even bigger part told him that he wouldn’t be ready to hear the answer, so he let it go.

They spent the rest of their time decorating and setting everything up in relative silence. Oikawa kept pumping the balloons with air, and whenever he finished one he threw it Suga. It made him laugh out loud and he always glanced at Oikawa when it happened, and he saw a happy smile on his face when he readied another balloon to be filled and then thrown.

It was playful and fun, and Suga was almost sorry when more people arrived, getting ready to surprise Makki when he’d arrive.

Fast-forwarding three hours – surprising Hanamaki (who knew there was a surprise party for him), and eating cake and drinking a lot of alcohol – Suga and Oikawa’s apartment had turned into a loud hubbub of laughter and silly twenty-something-year-olds.

Suga was leaning into the kitchen island, looking with fondness how Hinata and Nishinoya danced wildly in the living room to some k-pop girl group’s song. He wasn’t certain, but pretty sure, that they were doing the choreography that went with the song, in a very over-exaggerated and overall extra way. The hip thrust and suggestive hand-movements were just a tad too inappropriate to be described more comprehensibly. Every move they made was accompanied by a cheer or a hoot, and they ended their dance routine to a loud round of applause. 

“I fucking knew it!” Suga heard Matsukawa yell all of sudden, his voice carrying over the next song that had started during Hinata and Nishinoya’s bows. He turned to look towards the man in question and saw him standing with Hanamaki and Kuroo by the big gift. “You’re giving him the gift.”

“So?” Kuroo shrugged, smiling with his wide grin.

“Are you really giving it to me?” Hanamaki asked, and everyone in the apartment seemed to take notice of their conversation, moving closer to them.

“Yes,” Kuroo nodded. “Happy birthday.”

Hanamaki looked at Kuroo a while longer, looking for any sign that this was a joke. When he didn’t seem to find any, a smile broke on his face and he lifted up the box, his arms stretched wide to be able to do so. Everyone made way for him when he went to put the gift in middle of the living room floor.

“I’ve been dreaming about the content of this gift ever since I saw it the first time and you’re really giving it to me?” Hanamaki made sure one more time.

“Yes,” Kuroo laughed. “Go on, open it.”

Suga would’ve said something if he’d had the time to, but Hanamaki was already tearing the gift paper, the red scraps flying everywhere in his hurry.

Everyone looked on with bated breath. Suga knew that most of them probably waited to see the infamous Totoro hat, but he knew that it was still safely hidden in his closet. Besides, the box was too heavy to only have one wool hat inside it. Of course it was possible that Kuroo had added weight with stones if he wanted to mislead others, and that made Suga really curious about the box’s content himself.

The anticipation of the big reveal was growing and growing and Suga was certain that he could hear a pin drop if there was no music playing.

Suga glanced at Kuroo when the paper was torn away, and saw a pleased smirk on his lips as he stood by the gift. He knew that smirk didn’t mean anything good and Hanamaki’s next words didn’t predict good either.

“What is this?” Hanamaki asked when he managed to open the box.

Hanamaki pulled out something big and black with some difficulty. It seemed to be too big to really fit inside the box and had been stuffed in tightly. It must’ve been quite heavy too.

“What is wrong with you, Kuroo?” Kenma asked mildly when Hanamaki dropped the massive object on the floor.

Suga moved a little to take a better look at what Hanamaki pulled out of the box, and he had never been more delighted.

It was the scariest Kumamon Suga had ever seen and he _loved_ it. It was almost big enough to be the real thing, and Suga wasn’t the only one to think that.

“Kuroo, did you kidnap the real Kumamon, stuff it into that box and leave it there to die?” Yaku asked what everyone was probably thinking. Not that Suga could confirm what everyone was thinking as he was too busy staring at his new best friend.

“No,” Kuroo sounded offended. “I’m not a mascot murderer. What do you think of me to even ask something like that?”

Suga tore his eyes away from Kumamon and looked around him. Almost everyone had identical expressions of horror on their faces.

“We’re keeping that,” Oikawa said when he sidled to stand next to Suga.

“Definitely,” Suga agreed. He would fight anyone that tried to take it away from their apartment.

“Why is it staring into my soul?” Hanamaki sounded genuinely distraught.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I haven't read any of the Harry Potter books or watched the movies in years. My mind just makes weird associations too :) 
> 
> Confession time!  
> I've been sitting on this chapter for months! Most of this chapter was what I wrote first when I started on this story. I can't believe I was finally able to post it ^^
> 
> As always, to be continued:  
> *...* 
> 
> I actually haven't written anything for the next chapter yet... And I'm not going to use anything that's going to be in chapters 27, so...  
> See you next week!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forewarning for a little bit of angst and anger. But only a little bit, so don't worry. Is all good, is all good. 
> 
> The biggest thank you to arc_kakusei for being awesome and helping with the chapter :)

 

“Shit!” Kuroo exclaimed in fright.

Oikawa was sitting on a couch in the living room, Suga’s head in his lap as he lounged on his back. They both snickered, hidden behind the large Kumamon that had found its place at the end of the couch. That way it was the first thing anyone would see when they came in. It had been Oikawa’s idea to put it there, exactly for that reason, and he was both proud of himself to have come up with the idea and pleased that Suga had approved it.

“I forgot you had this thing,” Kuroo sighed and he patted on Kumamon’s head when he passed it on his way to go sit in the armchair.

“Its name is Kumamon, and it’s a part of our family.” Suga sounded disapproving of Kuroo’s behavior. “Show some respect.”

“You’re really weird sometimes, did you know that?” Oikawa asked offhandedly, smiling fondly down at him.

Suga turned his head to look up into his eyes with an unimpressed expression. “Hello pot, this is kettle,” he said, gesturing like he was on a phone. “We’re both black.”

Oikawa let out an amused chuckle.

“Hey, Suga,” Kuroo called and they both turned their focus back to him. “Can you get me something to drink?”

“Why don’t you go and get something yourself?” Suga asked.

“Heaven,” Kuroo sighed with a blissed expression, sinking into the armchair with his eyes half-closed.

Suga sighed as well, although more from exasperation than contentment, and got up.

Oikawa watched him go until his eyes met Kuroo’s. The man had a knowing smirk growing on his lips.

“What?” Oikawa asked, feeling a little disturbed by Kuroo’s expression.

Kuroo didn’t answer right away, his eyes flicking towards Suga in the kitchen.

Oikawa was about to ask again when he heard the fridge door open but got a throw pillow thrown in his face. He let out an undignified and muffled gasp.

“Could you be any more in love with him?” Kuroo asked in a low whisper, gesturing with his chin towards the kitchen.

Oikawa didn’t dignify his question with an answer, but glanced over his shoulder to make sure Suga didn’t hear Kuroo and threw the pillow back at him. “Shut up,” he grumbled at Kuroo’s amused chuckles just as Suga came back to the living room. He walked straight to Kuroo, who was still recovering from the pillow attack, and hit Kuroo in the head with the plastic bottle he brought him.

“Ow,” Kuroo said, rubbing his head.

“You’re welcome,” Suga said with exaggerated sweetness, holding the bottle out for Kuroo.

“Thank you,” Kuroo matched Suga’s sweetness in his voice when he took the offered bottle.

Oikawa couldn’t help the fact that his eyes followed Suga, and his ass in particular, when he came back to the couch. It wasn’t Oikawa’s fault that it was at his eye level. It wasn’t his fault that Kuroo and Bokuto had brought it to his attention during their latest conversation.

Suga lay down where he had been with a small sigh, and closed his eyes, like they had been before Kuroo came. A pleased thrill run up Oikawa’s spine as Suga rested his head back on his thigh.

“Is this a new seating arrangement or something for you two? Suga using you as a pillow?” Kuroo asked, motioning towards them.

“Suga has a headache caused by a neck cramp,” Oikawa answered.

“And that helps?” Kuroo asked, disbelief clear in his voice.

“It does,” Suga answered in turn. “Oikawa’s warm.”

Oikawa was watching Kuroo and so saw the moment when he must have noticed what Oikawa was wearing – cut off sweats with wool socks (because it was still winter) and one of the legs of his sweats rolled higher to expose skin for Suga to rest his neck against.

“I have heating pads in my apartment. I can go get them,” Kuroo offered seriously, like he honestly cared about Suga’s well-being.

“No need. This is better.”

Oikawa smiled at Suga’s words and looked down to him. Suga still had his eyes closed, and he was breathing steadily. Oikawa still brushed his fingers through Suga’s hair.

“Oh,” Kuroo said casually, then repeated, _“Oh,”_ with a heavy stress and meaning behind it the second time.

Suga opened his eyes and looked to his side. Oikawa followed his eyes to look at Kuroo as well.

“What?” Suga asked.

Kuroo had his hand in front of his mouth, and his eyes were going back and forth between Oikawa and Suga, looking like comprehension was dawning on him. Oikawa didn’t know what Kuroo was realizing right then, but that’s what it looked like.

“Nothing,” Kuroo said after a while, when he dropped his hand and took a sip from the bottle Suga had brought him. Oikawa could see how hard he was fighting to keep his expression neutral.

“Explain yourself, Kuroo,” Suga said.

“Really, there’s nothing to explain.” Kuroo waved dismissively.

Oikawa didn’t believe him, but favored watching the X-files episode he had started earlier over figuring out Kuroo.

“You’re really cute together like that.” Kuroo provided an explanation anyway after a while.

“Of course we are.” Oikawa agreed smoothly, not bothering to look away from the TV. He heard Suga’s light laugh and felt a small slap on his chest.

“Oikawa!” Suga berated, still laughing.

“What?” Oikawa asked innocently. “I’m handsome and you’re kind of good-looking, so of course we are cute.”

“Okay, whatever.” Suga kept laughing lightly.

Oikawa sighed and glanced at Kuroo to meet his eyes.

If that “whatever” wasn’t the biggest reason for Oikawa to believe that Suga didn’t feel the same way about him, then he didn’t know what was.

Kuroo seemed to understand what Oikawa meant with the look, as he frowned a little when he looked down to Suga before bringing his scheming gaze back to Oikawa. A silent non-discussion happened between him and Oikawa for about two seconds, before Suga stole Kuroo’s attention.

“Don’t you think that you two look good together Suga?” Kuroo asked from him.

“Can I just sleep?” Suga asked instead of answering, searching for Oikawa’s hand. When he found it, he brought it to rest on his chest, and Oikawa smiled at the move.

He really liked Suga, was practically falling in love with him.

But he was more worried than anything else on that night.

 

...

 

Two hours earlier, Oikawa was rolling his shoulders. He had been sitting in the same position for some time now, and he didn’t need to look at a clock to know how many hours it had been since he looked at anything else that wasn’t his laptop screen or an old textbook.

His phone wasn’t alerting him with messages, not yet, and he decided it was a good idea to take a break, to continue studying on another day. He thought it would be a good idea to ask Suga to send Iwaizumi a message saying that he was done studying for the day. He knew Iwaizumi wouldn’t believe him if he sent it from his phone.

He closed this laptop after he saving his work and stood up. It was dark in his room without the illumination from his laptop and it took a moment for his eyes to get accustomed to it.

The apartment was quiet, as had become the norm in the past month or so. Oikawa didn’t know the cause of it, but he had his hunches. But he knew that Suga was home. The man had stayed home for every day for the past week.

He didn’t know what had happened, what had caused his roommate to withdraw inside the walls of their apartment, and whenever he asked, Suga fibbed with “nothing’s wrong” and “don’t worry”.

Oikawa hated that Suga lied to him. He thought Suga knew that he could entrust anything to Oikawa. And yet, on this matter, whatever it was, Suga was very guarded. He tried not to show it, but Oikawa knew. He could see it.

And it hurt a little, to think that Suga didn’t trust him enough to say what was bothering him. He wished that Suga would tell him. That was why he kept asking whenever Suga closed the fridge too hard, curled his fingers into fists, pressed his lips into a tight line or just in general looked lost in thought whenever he had been staring at a spot for minutes on end.

Sighing, and preparing for another barrage of lies from Suga, Oikawa went to look for the man.

He didn’t look long, starting from Suga’s room and finding him there.

Suga’s door was open, and he was sitting on his bed, doing something on his laptop. Oikawa watched him for a moment, knowing that Suga would notice him eventually – the hallway’s light was on, pouring into Suga’s room, and he was standing right in front of it, casting a shadow on the floor. He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and let his eyes wander around the room as he waited. He noted again the missing camera from Suga’s shelf and the small dent in the wall that appeared soon after he had heard an alarming crash of something breaking coming from Suga’s room.

“Hey,” Suga said sooner than usual, and Oikawa wondered if Suga had been waiting for him to appear in his doorway at some point. “Do you need something?”

Oikawa shook his head. “No, I’m just done studying for the night. You can tell Iwaizumi before he starts blowing up my phone with messages.”

“Oh, okay,” Suga said but made no move to do so.

Oikawa was certain Suga had no idea where his phone even was. He waited for a spell before he decided to voice his concern again.

“You’ve been blue.”

Suga looked up from his laptop with a small frown. “What?”

“Something’s wrong or bothering you or something,” Oikawa said and extricated himself from the doorframe, stepping inside the room.

“I’m fine,” Suga said flippantly, like Oikawa knew he would, eyes dropping down to whatever he was looking on the laptop screen. But the wince Suga made as he twisted and tilted his head was new, as was the hand he brought to his neck.

“Are you sure?” Oikawa asked, like he had done numerous times before, as he made his way to Suga’s bed and sat sideways on it behind Suga.

“Yes,” Suga answered.

It was a well-rehearsed dance at this point, the back and forth Oikawa and Suga did. Oikawa would ask, Suga would insist on being fine, Oikawa wouldn’t believe him, and Suga would insist more.

“What’s wrong with your neck then?” Oikawa asked when Suga absently rubbed on it again.

“Nothing, it’s just stiff and I have a headache,” Suga answered.

Oikawa couldn’t see what Suga was doing on his laptop from where he was sitting, but he was sure that the position Suga was sitting in didn’t help his neck at all.

“Where?” he asked and placed his hand by Suga’s neck, gently pressing down.

“Aah,” Suga breathed out in pain and tensed his shoulders. Oikawa immediately let up, but didn’t move his hand.

“Sorry,” Oikawa apologized. “Here?” He softly ran his thumb in a circular motion over the area in question, applying the softest pressure.

“Yeah,” Suga sighed. Oikawa smiled a little, continuing the motion with his other hand on the other side. He saw how deep Suga’s next inhale was, and heard how slowly he let it out, like he was trying to relax.

“Why is your hand so warm?” Suga asked quietly after a moment spent in silence. Suga wasn’t working on anything on his laptop anymore, his hands and arms staying still, and Oikawa was focused on trying to ease Suga’s discomfort.

But Oikawa didn’t have an answer for Suga’s question, and the silence continued. He didn’t mind, though, and found it easy to slip into daydreams in the dark and quiet room, only illuminated by Suga’s laptop. And as much as he tried _not to,_ he couldn’t help but think on the fact that he was sitting on Suga’s bed, touching Suga and how he could feel Suga becoming pliant under his hands.

“Apart from your headache, are you really _fine?”_ Oikawa asked, because he didn’t want to let himself think what else he could do with Suga in his bed – talking would have to be a sufficient distraction.

Besides, he did honestly worry about Suga. He worried about how downcast he had been lately, how he had tried not to show it, and how stiff the muscles at Suga’s neck truly were.

“I’m fine,” Suga sighed and Oikawa decided to change tactics.

“I hate that you lie to me,” Oikawa admitted, his hands still gently rubbing on Suga’s neck. “Please stop it,” he said quietly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

When Suga didn’t answer right away, Oikawa continued. “And don’t say you’re fine. The more you say it, the less I believe it.”

“Nothing’s wr – “

“Suga,” Oikawa warned him in a low voice and he noticed another sigh escaping from him.

“Tooru, if you don’t stop pressing on this,” Suga started slowly, “it’s going to turn into a fight. And I really, _really,_ don’t want to fight with you.” Suga pleaded with a serious tone.

“Okay, no fighting,” Oikawa pacified, because he didn’t want to fight with Suga either. But he kept worrying.

Although, Suga had used his first name and Oikawa couldn’t stop repeating the way it sounded in Suga’s voice in his head.

“But seriously, how is your hand so warm?” Suga asked shortly after their sort of-agreement on not fighting.

Oikawa smiled a little, letting go of the mantra in his head repeating his name in Suga’s voice. “Does it feel good?”

“Mm-hm,” Suga hummed in answer.

“Okay,” Oikawa stopped massaging Suga’s neck and got up. “Come on, I have an idea.”

“What?” Suga glanced over his shoulder.

“Just come on,” Oikawa urged Suga and took his hand to pull him up and after him.

He switched on a small light in the living room so it wasn’t too bright for Suga’s eyes. He went to sit down on the couch facing the TV and instructed Suga to lie down next to him. It was convenient that he was wearing his old cutoff sweats that night, Oikawa thought, as he rolled on of the legs a little higher to expose the bare skin. He knew that such a quick massage wouldn’t help Suga’s neck much when it was so stiff – it was like his muscles had turned to stone, so he decided that warmth would be better.

Suga eyed him uncertainly for a second, but made a small motion with his shoulder that he probably meant as a shrug, and lay down on his back. He seemed to understand what Oikawa had meant, and rested his head so his neck was in contact with Oikawa’s thigh.

Oikawa smiled, pleased that Suga went with it, and flipped the TV on, continuing from the X-files episode he had left paused the last time he watched it.

“How are you this warm?” Suga asked after a moment.

Oikawa looked down at him and saw that his eyes were closed. He caressed Suga’s hair softly. “Just relax, you’ll feel better.”

“Thank you,” Suga breathed out and Oikawa focused his eyes on the TV.

He still worried about Suga and hated that the man had lied to him. But there was nothing he could do about that. Suga was entitled to his secrets, of course he was. And Oikawa would have to accept that Suga didn’t want to talk about what was going on with him.

“Do you want me to lock the front door?” He remembered their frequent visitors belatedly. Maybe it would be better for Suga’s headache that no one barged in that evening. It wasn’t too late yet for anyone not to come by.

“Don’t you dare move,” Suga answered and Oikawa chuckled at the hint of a threat in Suga’s voice.

He did however shift a little under Suga’s head, settling into a more comfortable position and resting his feet on the coffee table. He muted the TV, following the story through the subtitles alone, and brought his hand to rest on Suga’s chest. He could feel his steady heartbeat under his palm, his other hand’s fingers absentmindedly, softly and slowly running through Suga’s hair.

It didn’t take long until Oikawa found himself hypothesizing on different things that could be bothering Suga. He found that it was hard to let go off his worry, even in the calmness of the living room, even with feeling Suga so close to him.

Suga had been tense and on edge for a week now. Oikawa knew how hard Suga had tried to hide it, smiling a little too widely, only to drop the fake smile when he thought no one was looking.

He was desperate for answers, but knew that Suga wouldn’t give them until he was ready.

He only knew that something had happened, and continued to wonder about what it was.  

 

...

 

About a week ago, Suga had been grocery shopping alone. The neighbors had once again cleaned out the kitchen of all his food, leaving only instant ramen in the cupboards.

He had been weighing his choices between some cookies, wondering if he should buy one or two kinds, when he heard a familiar voice.

“Suga?”

He turned around in place, forgetting the cookies when he knew who he’d see, but thinking it would be rude and inconsiderate not to at least say hey.

“Hey, Yuuji,” he said with a small smile. It had been two months since the last time they saw each other, and honestly, Suga had barely thought about him since. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Terushima smiled back, just as uncertainly as Suga had. “You?”

“I’ve been good too,” Suga nodded. Their encounter could turn awkward really quickly, and Suga wanted to avoid that, trying to be nice and kind, like he usually was with people. “How’s your café?”

Terushima let out a small, almost relieved, chuckle. “It’s good too.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’m glad that I ran into you,” Terushima said and combed his hair back with his left hand. Suga followed the movement, the very, very, familiar movement, and his eyes fixed on Terushima’s fingers when the hand dropped down by Terushima’s side.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” Suga said when he lifted his eyes back to Terushima’s. He curled the fingers of his free hand into a fist to stop the shaking that took him unawares.

He didn’t think that seeing a ring there would cause him to react like that.

Terushima looked confused for a fraction of a second, and then glanced down at his hand and back again biting his lip. “I...”

He clearly didn’t know what to say, or how to say what he wanted to say. Not that Suga needed him to say anything, but he waited patiently in the middle of the stranded aisle between cookies and cereals. When Terushima seemed totally lost in his thoughts grasping for something comprehensive, Suga decided to help him. He sighed softly and relaxed his hand out of the fist.

“How long have you been engaged?”

“A couple of days,” Terushima answered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, like he was uncomfortable talking about it. Or maybe Terushima was just uncomfortable talking about it with Suga, and he could understand why. He wasn’t that comfortable himself. 

“Wow, it’s really new then,” Suga thought out loud, counting back months and weeks and days.

Terushima flashed a smile that could be described as apologetic. “I know it’s really soon, but we thought that since we’re not getting any younger, and we’re...”

 _Yes, at the ages of 24 or 25, you practically have one foot in the grave already,_ Suga thought sarcastically as Terushima continued.

“We’re happy and we’re  –“ He stopped to take a quick breath, as if to ready and steady to deliver his next words. “We’re in... in love, so why not.”

“It’s fine,” Suga promised Terushima. He could feel how careful Terushima was being, how he tried his hardest not to hurt him, speaking as carefully as he was. And Suga really was fine, it really was fine. “If you’re happy then of course I’m happy for you.”

Terushima, however, looked uncertain. “Are you really okay about this?”

Suga smiled to ease his worry. “Of course. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Terushima still wavered, and Suga kept smiling. He didn’t want Terushima to worry about him. He was fine. But he wanted to leave the store and go home and never go to that particular store again.

“Um, so,” Terushima took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “When’s your next exhibit?”

“Oh, I don’t know yet.” Suga was a little surprised that Terushima asked about it. “Why?”

“Just, you’ve got your camera with you,” Terushima said and pointed at Suga’s camera. “I figured you’re working towards another exhibit.”

Terushima was right – he had been taking photos on his way to the store, but he didn’t have any idea what to do with any of them.

“I was taking photos, but there’s nothing cohesive yet.” Suga shrugged.

“Would it be okay if I came to your next exhibit?” Terushima asked carefully. “Whenever it is.”

“I’m not going to ban you from coming if you really want to.”

“But if you don’t want me to come, I won’t.”

Suga thought about it for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he was leaning either way on this matter.

“You can come if you want to.” He smiled with his words, making up his mind that it would be okay for Terushima to come. At the same time, he mentally prepared to say goodbye to Terushima. He wanted to go home. He wanted to not be able to see the _fucking_ ring only three months after  they broke up. He could feel himself growing angry and he hated that about himself and didn’t want Terushima to see that.

“I should go,” Suga said, already taking a step away from Terushima.

“Oh, right, of course. Sorry for keeping you.”

“It’s fine,” Suga waved his hand dismissively. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Terushima nodded and Suga turned around to see where he was going.

“Oh, um, Suga!” Terushima called after him and Suga stopped and turned around to look at him. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

Suga saw and heard the apology in Terushima’s voice and knew that he was referring to the engagement and how he had been surprised about it.

“It’s fine,” he said for the umpteenth time during the last five minutes and started to wonder if Oikawa had been right – the more he said the word “fine”, the less it meant “fine”.

“I guess I’ll see you around then,” Terushima waved, wearing a small, still apologetic, smile.

Suga only nodded and turned away again. He paid for the groceries, and carried them home, only vaguely aware of his surroundings. Terushima’s engagement had been like a punch to his gut and he wanted to retaliate somehow against the universe, even though he knew that fighting against something that couldn’t be grasped or seen was impossible.

He just was so, so angry.

He wanted to break something just to release the twisting and winding energy that was consuming him.

He wanted to punch something to feel the satisfying sting in his knuckles.

He wanted to shout and growl loud enough for the whole world to hear.

But he couldn’t do any of that. Not in the middle of the busy streets of Tokyo, if he didn’t want to get arrested. And he couldn’t do any of that at home either, because he didn’t want anyone to worry about him. He didn’t want anyone to pity him.

Maybe he could’ve taken out some of his anger and frustration on his pillows if he had come home to an empty apartment.

“Why are you studying in the kitchen?” Suga asked when he saw Oikawa sitting by the kitchen island.

“Food,” Oikawa answered around a mouthful of ramen, his eyes focused on something on his laptop screen.

Suga sighed, took off his coat and shoes, and softened his expression so Oikawa wouldn’t notice how much he wanted to topple their fridge sideways onto the floor and kick it for good measure.

“Was it busy at the store?” 

“No more than usual,” Suga answered, not looking at Oikawa, thinking about the empty aisle when he saw Terushima. He could feel another flash of anger fill him at the memory, at the universe that was so cruel to him. 

But Oikawa must’ve been looking at him. When Suga was about to pass by him to put the groceries away, Oikawa took hold of the back of his sweater and pulled him closer, and turned him around to see his face.

“What’s wrong?” Oikawa asked, looking into Suga’s eyes while searching for signs of something being amiss.

Suga could feel the heat of Oikawa’s hands through his sweater on his hips, burning but steadying him. He tried to focus on them instead of on the feeling that made him want to curl his hands into fists.

“Nothing is wrong,” Suga lied. And nothing should be wrong. He didn’t like that he was feeling so angry. He hated that feeling inside him. And he didn’t want Oikawa to see it.

 “You just lied,” Oikawa pointed out calmly. Suga took a deep breath and stuffed the anger rolling inside him into a little ball that he let sink to the bottom of his stomach.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Suga repeated himself and schooled his features into normalcy, smiling softly and letting out a small sigh to sell it. “I’m just getting frustrated.”

“Why are you frustrated?” Oikawa asked, still looking straight and deep inside Suga’s eyes, like he was trying to read his mind.

“I keep taking photos, but... I don’t know. I just haven’t liked the photos I’ve taken lately.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” Oikawa asked slowly. He was a hard man to fool with lies, Suga knew that, but he kept trying.

“If you don’t believe me, look through what I took today and tell me they’re not shit.” Suga thrust his camera into Oikawa’s chest, stepping away from him, trying to sound and act as frustrated as he could, even though he wasn’t feeling frustrated so much as he was feeling infuriated at the world.

He went to put away the groceries and the whole time he could feel Oikawa’s eyes on him. But every time he braved a sidelong glance at the man, he was looking down at the camera, flipping through the photos. He wondered if Oikawa had finally believed his lie.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Suga-chan,” Oikawa said slowly, looking back up. “I think these are amazing,” Oikawa added, putting the camera down on the island in front of him.

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Suga snatched the camera to look through the photos as well. To be honest, he was indifferent about the photos.

Oikawa reached over the island and pulled on the hem of Suga’s sweater again, bringing him right against the island. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re frustrated?”

Suga glanced at Oikawa, and saw him studying his face again, and then quickly back down at the camera. “I’m also a little hungry,” Suga admitted.

“You should eat then,” Oikawa suggested, letting go of him.

“I will,” Suga looked up from the camera, dropping his right hand that was holding it. “I’ll just dump these photos first.”

Suga heard the sigh Oikawa let out when he walked away from the kitchen and down the hallway.

He was breathing fast when he got to his room and closed the door. The anger he had pushed down was unraveling and resurfacing like a relentless storm that brought bigger and stronger waves with it, the anger washing over him again and again.

Suga threw the camera he had been holding against the wall, letting some of the anger out with it. Oikawa probably heard the sound it made crashing and breaking against the wall, but Suga didn’t care.

He didn’t care. He was so angry.

And he was so tired from trying to hide it only a handful of minutes that he broke down. He grumbled down on the floor and leaned his back against the door. He hid his face in his arms that he brought to lean against his knees, and bit his lip so Oikawa wouldn’t hear the sobs he couldn’t keep inside him.

 

...

 

“Is Suga sleeping?” Kuroo asked quietly.

Oikawa glanced down at Suga, who was still lying on the couch, his head still resting on Oikawa’s thighs. He looked back to Kuroo with a question.

“I know you can tell if he’s actually asleep or just pretending.” Kuroo raised his eyebrows meaningfully, to tell Oikawa that he knew exactly how well Oikawa  could read Suga.

Oikawa nodded, caressing Suga’s hair. “He’s sleeping,” he whispered.

“Good,” Kuroo whispered back.

“Why is it good?”

Oikawa noticed Kuroo’s eyes move down to look at Suga and then back up to him. “I was hanging with Kenma yesterday and I heard that Terushima has gotten engaged.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened to what he was sure were near comical proportions, before they returned to their normal size. That kind of explained Suga’s behavior during the past week if Suga knew about the engagement too.

“Are you sure?” Oikawa asked, still keeping up with the whispering, his hand going through the motions as he stroked through Suga’s hair in a soothing manner.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded, saying the word out with a breath. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Me too,” Oikawa admitted after he considered Kuroo’s statement for a moment. In a way it made perfect sense.

“How so?”

“Suga’s been... different these past few days.” Oikawa explained vaguely. He wasn’t sure how to correctly describe it so that had to be enough. And it seemed to be enough.

“Angry?” Kuroo asked.

“I think he tried not to show it.” Oikawa looked at the sleeping Suga fondly. He had briefly wondered if Suga had been sleepless on top of everything else as well, noticing how sunken his eyes had been, how big the bags under his eyes were.

“Yeah, well, that’s Suga.” Kuroo stated in a low voice.

Oikawa looked up curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever seen him get mad at someone?” Kuroo asked, already answering his question with the simple tone of his voice. Oikawa didn’t even need to think about it to know that Kuroo was right.

“Plus, I’d be angry too if the guy I loved for months broke my heart and got engaged with someone they’d only dated for three months.” Kuroo added after a short moment.

“Do you know why Suga doesn’t show his anger?” Oikawa knew that if he himself was pissed off about something, he’d let it show and he’d let people hear about it, no matter how small the matter that caused it.

“No, but I bet Daichi does. You should ask him.”

Oikawa considered it, but decided that it wasn’t pertinent to find out right then and there.

There was another thing on his mind as well, something that he had been thinking about for much longer. He didn’t usually feel the need to voice out his deepest personal thoughts, but the atmosphere in the darkened living room made him want to do so. He felt like it was safe to share secrets in whispered, low voices.

“You know, I keep thinking about what to give to Suga.”

“What do you mean?” Kuroo frowned, not following Oikawa’s train of thought.

“I want to do something for him to repay him for everything he’s done for me. I mean, he let me stay here back when I was looking for an apartment. And I didn’t even give him anything for Christmas.” Oikawa listed out some of the many reasons he was thankful for Suga, to Suga.

“Neither did I.” Kuroo shrugged, referring to Christmas.

“Yes, but that’s different. You don’t work.”

“I’m in between jobs.” Kuroo corrected him.

“Right, sorry, that.” Oikawa immediately apologized. “But Suga made the whole snowflake thing for me and I didn’t do anything for him. I really want to show my gratitude.”

“Well, Valentine’s day is coming up. Why don’t you reveal your true feelings for him with hearts and flowers and chocolates?”

“I meant I want to do something nice for him, not freak him out.”

Kuroo lifted his hands in a sign of surrender. “My bad,” he said with a smirk and Oikawa suspected the sincerity of it when Kuroo cleared his throat. “Why don’t you get him a duck?”

“A duck?”

“Yeah, he likes ducks. Or an aquarium with a shrimp in it. He likes shrimps too.”

Oikawa sighed. “I know he likes ducks and shrimps. But I want to give him something more meaningful than a creature that loves water.”

“Okay, how about your heart then?” Kuroo suggested again and Oikawa couldn’t tell whether he was serious or not.

“If you’re not going to help, leave.”

Kuroo chuckled quietly, suppressing the sound of it in his hand not to wake Suga up.

“You know, I don’t think you need to worry about getting Suga anything. “ Kuroo said softly when he calmed down. “You’re already doing more for him than you realize.”

 

...

 

Suga woke up the next morning alone in the living room. He’d been covered by a blanket, and now he was feeling warm and better than he had for a week. Even his neck was better, less stiff, and his headache was gone. He wondered how long Oikawa had been sitting there, acting as his pillow.

Suga knew when he glanced at the time that Oikawa had left for school some time ago. Maybe he could make milk bread for him while he was gone, this time as a thank you. He knew they had the ingredients in the kitchen.

Suga stretched himself to full height under the blanket before he got up and made his way to his bedroom through the quiet and empty apartment.

His laptop was on his bed, where he had left it when Oikawa dragged him to the living room. He could still feel the ghost of Oikawa’s warm hand wrapped around his.

The laptop had fallen asleep during the night, and Suga prodded it awake before he started to change his clothes. He had been going through his old photos last night, as he had been for the past few days. He hadn’t left the apartment for a week, too shaken up by his encounter with Terushima, and the fact that he hadn’t gotten any fresh air had manifested itself in restless and sleepless nights, spend poring over his photos.

And he didn’t like what he had seen in one particular photo that he found a couple of days before he ran into Terushima at the store.

It was the one Suga had taken a couple of weeks before the break up in Terushima’s coffee shop, the one he took of Terushima after he had photographed the chandelier. Technically, it was a good photo – he had framed Terushima perfectly in it even though he had taken it almost blindly. But there was a familiar face standing by the front door, who had probably just walked inside, and he was looking straight at Terushima.

Futakuchi Kenji.

Suga remembered that name, and he wasn’t sure if he was glad or not, if he should feel anything about it.

But there he was, looking at Terushima, and Suga had a feeling that he had done that quite a lot leading up to the afternoon when Terushima broke up with him.

Suga searched for the photo now, knowing exactly which folder it was in, and when he saw it in the midst of his other photos, he did what he should have done days ago when he had accidentally found it, and deleted it.

He didn’t need the reminder. It wouldn’t do anything good for him.

And as he saw the photo disappear from the folder and he made his way to the trash bin to make sure it really was gone from his hard drive, he wished that Terushima had made the right decision, and that he truly was happy.

Suga didn’t handle anger well, never had, and didn’t like showing that side of him to others. But his anger about the engagement had dissipated little by little, and he was glad to find little to no trace of it lingering inside him anymore.

Suga had a funny feeling that something had helped to make that happen, that _someone_ was the cause for him to overcome the ugly and useless emotion.

He really should make that milk bread.

Suga was aware of the crush that had resurfaced some time ago. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it had happened, or even a certain time, but nonetheless, there it was, reminding of its existence when Oikawa was close by. And he knew that it would only get harder to be around Oikawa, but he couldn’t help but stick by him, even when he insisted that Suga wasn’t fine.

It was sweet that he cared, and it was almost marvelous how he could read Suga like an open book.

And Suga was so screwed. The more he thought about Oikawa and spent time with him, the deeper he fell into his pitiful crush.

But it would pass, Suga was sure, because it had happened before.

After all, it was only a crush. And he had no plans or intentions to do something about it.

“Hi honey, I’m home!” Suga heard Oikawa’s voice call and he smiled as he closed his laptop.

He knew it had started as a joke months ago, but he liked that it continued, and feared for the day that he wouldn’t hear those words anymore – when Oikawa would start to date someone, or when he graduated and decided to move out in search of a job.

 _Was it selfish of him to want for Oikawa to stay forever as his roommate? To never move out?_ Suga wondered when he made his way to the kitchen where he knew Oikawa would be at that time, in search of food.

“Hey,” he said softly in greeting when he confirmed his assumption of Oikawa’s whereabouts to be right. “How was school?”

“I’m really glad that I’m almost done with it,” Oikawa answered like he was really looking forward to that day. “How are you doing? How’s your neck?”

“Much better, thank you,” Suga said gratefully when he leaned on the counter next to their fridge. He couldn’t believe only a week ago he wanted to trash the whole thing, and it had never done anything wrong to him. “You helped a lot last night.” Suga added as he followed with his eyes the ingredients Oikawa pulled out of the fridge.

“I was happy to help,” Oikawa said as he closed the fridge door and gently massaged Suga’s neck when he passed by him to get bread. “I was a little worried to leave you on the couch, but you were sleeping really soundly and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Didn’t hurt my neck, it was fine.”

“Good,” Oikawa flashed a smile as he started to make a sandwich for himself.

Suga watched him for a moment, admiring his form and posture and handsome features.

“Oikawa,” he said after a while of shameless ogling. “We need a duck.”

Oikawa sputtered with his laughter. “A duck? Why?”

“To eat all the crumbs you keep brushing onto the floor.”

“But why would we need a duck when someone always cleans up anyway, vacuums them away anyway?” Oikawa reasoned, looking down at the floor.

“You mean _I_ always vacuum them,” Suga pointed out.

“Well, from the looks of it, you haven’t cleaned in here for a couple of days,” Oikawa remarked.

“And that’s why we need a duck.” Suga insisted half-heartedly. They didn’t really need a duck and he didn’t really want a duck. But it was fun to talk about it. “I swear, your cleaning sprees and obsessive compulsive behavior are sporadic at best and it usually falls on me to vacuum.”

“Do you want me to vacuum more?” Oikawa asked like he was offering it.

“I’d like it if you cleaned up after yourself by not brushing any more crumbs on the floor,” Suga cleared up.

“Okay, deal,” Oikawa agreed, poking on Suga’s cheek.

Suga moved his head away from the finger by leaning to the side and Oikawa dropped it.

“Can you make me a sandwich too?” Suga asked then, moving to sit down by the kitchen island.

“Sure,” Suga saw Oikawa nod and he focused on Oikawa’s hands this time, watching how they prepared the sandwich.

“What did you do today?” Oikawa asked as he worked hard on Suga’s sandwich.

“Well, I just woke up 30 minutes or so ago,” Suga started with a teasing tone.

“Lazy,” Oikawa teased back immediately with a smile. “But I’m glad you finally slept well,” he added softly but seriously.

Suga tilted his head a little to the side, before he remembered how observant Oikawa was and had most definitely noticed.

“Me too,” Suga agreed with him, lifting his eyes to look into Oikawa’s when he put down a plate with the sandwich on it in front of him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Oikawa nodded and moved to sit down next to him. “So, about this duck,” he introduced the new old topic of conversation seamlessly. “What would we name it?”

Suga laughed, glad that Oikawa had taken the suggestion seriously enough. “I wasn’t serious about the duck.”

“But if we did get one, what would you want to name it?”

Suga tried to contain his laughter. “Hiplito Il Piplit,” he answered like saying the name was second nature to him.

“That’s the same name you’ve said before.”

Suga was pleased that Oikawa remembered it and he wondered if he remembered the other name as well.

“But Hip-Pip would need a friend, or it would get lonely, and we’d have to get another duck as well.”

“You mean Shizzle Shazzle?” Oikawa asked with a smirk.

Suga nodded with a happy smile, leaning his chin in his hand.

“How long have you had these names ready for?” Oikawa inquired. “It’s kind of like someone coming up with a name for their child years before the baby is even born.”

Suga shrugged. “I don’t know, I can’t remember. But I like them.”

“They’re definitely interesting names,” Oikawa seemed to agree with him.

“Thank you,” Suga said appreciatively of Oikawa’s sense of good names.

“And weird,” Oikawa added.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Suga said with even more meaning, like he really, truly, unapologetically appreciated that Oikawa thought they were weird names. Because they were weird names and that was part of their charm.

“How come you named Kumamon ‘Kumamon’ then?” Oikawa chuckled.

“Because Kumamon is Kumamon,” Suga answered smoothly, digging up his phone from his jeans’ pocket. His mind had gone through a dozen black holes and at least two timewarps inside a blue police box, and their conversation had reminded him of something he needed to do.

“What are you doing?” Oikawa asked curiously, trying to look over Suga’s arm and shoulder at the phone’s screen.

Suga went out of his way to hide what he was doing with a mischievous smile on his lips. “I’m sending Daichi a link.”

“What link? And what for?”

Suga looked up to Oikawa, pocketing his phone. “He rickrolled me the other day and I’m retaliating.”

“He actually rickrolled you?” Oikawa looked bemused. “But that’s such an old meme already.”

“I know, that’s why I’m annoyed.”

“What are you doing as a payback then?”

“I’m sure you’ll hear soon enough, when Iwaizumi gets tired of hearing Daichi complain about it,” Suga said mysteriously. He didn’t want to spoil his fun yet and it was really fun to tease and annoy Daichi, Suga thought as he tried to rub on his neck as swiftly as possible.

But of course Oikawa noticed it.

“How’s your neck really?”

“It’s fine,” Suga said, but decided to elaborate when he caught the disapproving look Oikawa shot at him. “It’s not hundred percent, but it’s much better now than it was yesterday.”

“Hmm...” Oikawa seemed to consider Suga’s words, and Suga really hoped that Oikawa believed him.

“Are you done?” Oikawa gestured towards Suga’s now empty plate.

Suga nodded with his affirmative answer.

“Good, go sit in front of a couch.” Oikawa instructed him then, stacking their plates and softly dropping them into the sink.

“Why?” Suga asked suspiciously.

“Just go sit on the floor in front of a couch,” Oikawa urged him again. “I’ll give you a massage now.”

“I don’t need a massage,” Suga countered, adamant about it.

“I will carry you if I have to,” Oikawa threatened lightly. Suga was eager to see if he’d go through with his threat.

“You will?” Suga teased him. “I’d like to see you try.” He smirked, folding his arms in front of him on the island and leaning forward a bit towards Oikawa.

Oikawa lifted one eyebrow at the challenge and made his way to Suga in quick long strides. “Alright, you asked for it.” He slid his arms behind Suga’s back and under his legs, and lifted Suga off the chair and against his chest before Suga had fully comprehended what was happening.

“Oikawa!” Suga exclaimed, one hand shooting out to grasp onto Oikawa in fear of being dropped on the floor. “Put me down.” He hadn’t been serious about testing whether Oikawa would actually carry him to the living room, but he was secretly pleased that he did.

“Nope,” Oikawa denied.

“I can walk by myself,” Suga said, pushing away from Oikawa. He didn’t need to feel Oikawa’s warmth against him like this. He didn’t need to feel how strong and steady and firm he was. He didn’t need to, but he wanted to. And he had to admit that he liked how easily Oikawa could pick him up and carry like this.

“No, you had your chance and you blew it,” Oikawa said as he rounded the couch and set Suga carefully down on the floor – first letting go of his legs and once Suga was standing, Oikawa slid his other arm away as well. “Sit down,” he said softly, pushing down gently on Suga’s shoulder.

“Fine,” Suga sighed and did as Oikawa told him to. He knew it would get him nowhere if he tried to argue with Oikawa when he had clearly made up his mind about something. He sat down on one of the pillows on the floor and Oikawa sat behind him on the couch.

Oikawa’s hand was as warm as it had been last night, Suga was glad to discover, and shivers ran down his back from the spot Oikawa was touching.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you,” Oikawa said as he started to massage Suga’s neck with his pleasantly warm hands. His fingers moved expertly as they began unraveling the small knots still lingering in Suga’s neck.

Suga nodded, unable to say anything because his stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. He could feel the strength in Oikawa’s hands and fingers, even though his touch was gentle and soothing, and he felt safe sitting between Oikawa’s legs. Suga sighed, already feeling how his body told him to relax. And he hated (read: loved) how eagerly his body responded to Oikawa’s touch, how he was already beginning to slip into a state of Nirvana. He had been too tense for that last night, but now...

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa said quietly and Suga focused on hearing what he had to say. “When was the last time you saw or heard of Terushima?”

“I’m guessing it was about a week ago,” Oikawa continued when Suga didn’t answer his question. And he was right.

“How did you know?” Suga asked quietly.

“You’ve been angry.” Oikawa answered like he had stated the most common fact in the world.

But it wasn’t common, not for Suga, to feel anger or to be mad at someone. Maybe that was why Oikawa had noticed it, no matter how hard Suga had tried to hide it.

“And I’m guessing you’ve been angry because he got engaged,” Oikawa kept speaking quietly, softly, carefully, like he was trying not to wake up a bear from hibernation.

Suga sighed again, further relaxing under Oikawa’s gentle but firm hands.

“I’m not angry anymore,” Suga told him matter-of-factly.

“It’s okay to be angry, I get it.” Oikawa’s voice was full of assurance that Suga’s feelings were valid. And Suga knew that it was okay, but it didn’t mean that he liked feeling of wanting to trash his own apartment like a rock star would trash a hotel room, TV thrown out the window and all.

“No, I know,” Suga replied, closing his eyes when he felt one very stubborn muscle loosening up and spreading warmth all over his neck when blood rushed freely in that spot once again. “But after last night, it’s like the anger just disappeared.”

“Oh,” Oikawa breathed out and Suga knew he hadn’t explained it sufficiently. He tried to find the words to describe how he had felt last night and how that compared to how he had felt in the morning when he woke up, but couldn’t find any words that really fit.

“Next time you’re angry, tell me,” Oikawa pleaded softly. “It usually helps to let it out.”

“I know that’s true, but I don’t think I can do that,” Suga admitted. He had never lashed out at anyone in anger and he had never raised his voice at anyone. “I hate feeling angry. And I don’t like that I got so angry. I shouldn’t be so mad about Terushima’s engagement. I should be happy for him, happy that he’s happy.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Oikawa disagreed immediately.

Suga was confused. “Why not?”

“Because he’s an asshole who broke up with you. You don’t have to do anything for him. You don’t need to be anything for him.” Oikawa answered smoothly, unraveling another knot in Suga’s neck. “And I don’t like him because he hurt you,” Oikawa added as an afterthought.

“You should join a club or something,” Suga joked. It was nice, actually more than just nice, that Oikawa was so protective of him, so loyal in a way.

“A club?”

“An I-hate-Terushima –club or something.”

Suga heard Oikawa let out an amused huff. “Maybe I should,” he agreed. “I bet it’d be the best club out there.”

“Right after I-don’t-believe-in-humans –club.” Suga kept teasing Oikawa.

“I wore that shirt once,” Oikawa reminded him, pressing a little harder with his fingers for a second or two. “You can let it go already.”

“But why would I do that when it brings me so much joy?” Suga was half-serious. “You should wear it more often.”

“So you could tease me more?”

“How are you going to find the others who don’t believe in humans if you don’t wear your shirt? How will you recognize each other?”

Oikawa chuckled again, but sounded a little exasperated.

“Besides, you looked good in it.” Suga let the compliment slip. He didn’t want Oikawa to feel like he couldn’t wear the clothes he wanted to. “The blue suited you.”

Oikawa was silent for a moment, his hands stilling their motions at Suga’s neck.

In the short silence that followed Suga’s slip, he managed to worry about it. But Oikawa really had looked good in the shirt. The fact that it was a little threadbare had nothing to do with it. Of course not.

“Thank you,” Oikawa finally said and Suga smiled, knowing Oikawa couldn’t see it.

“You’re welcome,” Suga said back as nonchalantly as he could. “And thank you.”

“Feel better?” Oikawa tickled on Suga’s neck with a finger. Suga raised his shoulders to shield himself from the teasing touch.

“Yes,” Suga admitted when Oikawa stopped the tickling and he dropped his shoulders and leaned his side against Oikawa’s leg.

“Good,” Oikawa mused at the same time that Suga’s cell phone chimed.

A grin appeared on Suga’s lips as he read the message, growing wider and happier with every word.

“Is it from Daichi?”

Suga felt Oikawa lean forward to see over his shoulder. He deliberated for a moment if he should tell Oikawa how he had been teasing Daichi, or let him find out about it later from someone else. To no one’s surprise, he realized that he wanted to tell Oikawa, wanted to hear Oikawa’s laughter, and that made up his mind.

“He says that he hates me and asks me – very rudely, I might add, to stop “rickrolling” him with the _fucking_ Fireflies song,” Suga summarized the message.

Oikawa laughed. “You didn’t.”

“He attacked me with a meme first,” Suga defended himself and put his phone away. “He should be punished.”

“How many times have you sent that link to him?” Oikawa’s voice was a mix of amusement and reprimand and Suga could tell that he approved.

“I haven’t counted.” Suga replied, and at the same time felt Oikawa’s thumb slowly and lightly run up and down over his spine at his neck. He closed his eyes at the feeling because it was barely there and felt so, so good, and he wanted more of it.

“A ballpark then.”

“Four or five times a day,” Suga admitted, focusing on breathing steadily. “For two weeks.”

Oikawa let out a surprised chuckle under his breath, the sound of it somewhat muffled and Suga wondered if he had covered his mouth. The thumb that had been torturously tracing Suga’s neck disappeared.

“And he keeps checking the link whenever I send it to him, like he expects it to be something different,” Suga said with proudness at his own devilish nature.

“Sometimes I think the surest sign that intelligent life exists elsewhere in the universe is that none of it has tried to contact us.” Oikawa spoke with an undercurrent of confidence, like he did when he was repeating something he had memorized.

Suga turned his head to look over his shoulder at Oikawa with an expression that, he was sure, could only be described with the words ‘ utterly incredulous’. “Are you quoting Calvin and Hobbes?”

Oikawa’s self-conscious smile slowly morphed into a softer ghost of it and his eyes were steady on Suga’s. “I like that you could tell where that was from.”

“Well,” Suga shrugged, “I agree with Calvin,” he said getting up and moved to sit on the couch as well. “You need to study now, don’t you?” he asked when Oikawa glanced at the time, knowing the answer.

“Yeah, kind of.” Oikawa sounded almost regretful when he said it.

“Go, dive into the world of sports and science,” Suga encouraged him, pushing him off the couch.

“Alright, I’m going. Stop pushing.” Oikawa rolled off the couch with a chuckle.

“Never,” Suga boasted and made a pushing motion in the air, trying to reach Oikawa who was already too far away.

But he heard Oikawa laugh as he walked around the couch. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“As always.” Suga nodded and reached for the remote. It took 16 seconds until he heard Oikawa’s room door close.

Suga sighed and rolled his shoulders to get rid of the lingering shivers and butterflies as he settled down more comfortably on the couch. He flipped through the channels, not finding anything worth watching as he tilted his head experimentally and was undeniably glad that it felt so much better.

 _Oikawa must have magic in his fingertips,_ Suga thought with a small soft smile lingering on his lips.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued:  
> "AKIKO!"
> 
> And a mysterious side note:  
> Comedy comes in threes


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sorry for the wait!  
> But, life is jagged and sometimes you hurt yourself on it, so... 
> 
> Anyway, (I'm fine!!! No worries!!!) could someone please come and stop me the next time that I plan on writing a chapter that is more than 5000 words long.  
> Seriously, just. Stop me. 
> 
> Okay, rant over.  
> Please enjoy the chapter! 
> 
> A big thank you to the lovely arc_kakusei for help!

 

_Nudge_

Suga was sleeping and he couldn’t be bothered with some silly little nudges.

_Nudge, nudge_

Suga was dreaming about...

_Nudge, shake, nudge_

What had he been dreaming about? He tried to remember, tried to chase after and catch onto the lost tail of his dreams when the nudges turned bothersome.

“I was sleeping,” he mumbled against his pillow.

“Your mom is calling you,” he heard Oikawa’s sleepy and low voice say.  

Why was his mother calling Oikawa so early in the morning?

“What?” Suga turned to look behind him and blinked his eyes in the darkness of his room to see better through his hazy sleepiness. Oikawa was lying down next to him on the bed with his eyes closed, looking like he had been sleeping there the whole night, his hand holding a cell closer to Suga. “Why is she calling you?”

“She’s calling you,” Oikawa corrected. If he hadn’t spoken at all, Suga would’ve sworn that the man was asleep.

“Why is she calling me on your phone?”

Oikawa sighed audibly and Suga saw him open one eye, the one that wasn’t squished shut by the way his cheek was pressed against a pillow. He looked cute, Suga thought, getting sidetracked.

“You left your phone in my room last night when you helped me study. Remember?” Oikawa spoke in a slow manner and then waited for Suga to acknowledge that he did remember what Oikawa was talking about.

Suga had sat for hours on the floor in Oikawa’s room while helping him compile an impressive and almost bothersome number of statistics in order to make a graphic for his dissertation. He had gone in after the third time he had heard a frustrated groan, asking if Oikawa would be willing to let him help. And Oikawa had been willing.

“I remember the studying,” Suga nodded, scrubbing his eyes.

“Your mom called you on _your_ phone and it woke me up. I would’ve ignored it, but I saw who was calling and answered because I thought she might have something urgent or important to tell you calling so early.” Oikawa explained, as if Suga were a toddler who was being stubborn and understanding nothing. Suga got the feeling that Oikawa was more annoyed that he had been woken up than that he had to explain all of this as he thrust the phone even closer to Suga.

Suga brought his arm from under his warm comforter and took the offered phone, finally fully grasping what was going on. “Hey, mom,” he greeted her, closing his eyes again because it was early and sleep was truly doing its best to cling onto him.

“Why did Tooru answer your phone?” his mother asked instead of a hello.

“Apparently I forgot it in his room last night when I helped him with his school work.”  

Akiko’s voice took an interested tone when she spoke again, “Did you sleep in his room as well?”

“No, I slept in my own bed,” Suga answered, not catching onto her mother’s tone of voice at all, still too sleepy to think much of it.

“Did Tooru sleep with you?”

“No.” Suga yawned. “Why would he do that?” As he spoke, he registered the sensation of someone’s fingers playing with his t-shirt’s sleeve. It tickled him and he shimmied away from the sensation, hearing light and low chuckles coming from next to him. He looked to his side in surprise, but calmed down when he saw a familiar figure in the darkness.

Right, Oikawa was in his bed.

“Oh, Koushi...” His mother sighed on the other end of the call.

“Why are you calling so early, mom?” Suga asked, deciding to overlook the way she said his name like he was a lost cause.

“It’s my birthday tomorrow,” Akiko replied. “I’m excited!”

Suga didn’t exactly need to be reminded of that. “I know,” he sighed in turn, closing his eyes again. He was too tired to keep them open. The fingers returned to play with his sleeve, the lightest touch on his skin now and then. The tickling sensation turned soothing and relaxing. “I was going to call you tomorrow morning. And I was going to come and see you,” he said with another yawn, rubbing his eye with his free hand, trying to get rid of the leftover sleepiness.

“Yes, well, you can still call me,” Akiko said off-handedly and then stopped to take a deliberate breath. Suga prepared himself to listen to a long ramble. “But there’s a change of plans – I’m not throwing the party I was planning.”

His mother continued on longer, Suga barely following her with her seven different ways of saying that the party was canceled.

“Why?” Suga asked when she stopped to breathe. He noted the feeling of a thumb softly moving up and down on his arm, the rest of the four fingers of Oikawa’s hand tenderly wrapped around his upper arm.

“Because all my friends are old and I’m getting old so I don’t want to spend my birthday with them because they’re old and boring so I’ve decided to come and see you.” Akiko explained in a reasonable manner, although her sentence was unnecessarily repetitive and long. “And Tooru,” she added thoughtfully after a short moment.

Suga let out a small laugh at hearing her unabashed favoritism in the fond way she said Oikawa’s name. He looked to his side, at Oikawa who looked like he was sleeping. “Just admit that you’re really only coming here because you want to see Oikawa and I’ll pass my phone back so you can talk to him and I can go back to sleep.”

“Oh, honey,” his mother said again, the same way she had before and Suga couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something.

“Was there something else you want to talk about or can I go back to sleep?”

“Yes, there’s more,” Akiko said, seemingly scandalized that her son would think that was all she wanted to talk about. “First, you can give Tooru this orange slice,” she said sweetly.

“We’re on the phone, mom,” Suga reminded her patiently.

“I know that. Just give him this orange slice that I’m holding in my hand. He needs the vitamins.”

Suga glanced to look at Oikawa, thinking that his mother was crazy, and saw Oikawa already looking at him. Suga sighed, knowing there was no way around it, and brought his free hand up to Oikawa’s face, pretending to be holding a piece of orange between his fingers.

“My mother wants you to eat this piece of orange,” he said, holding a steady eye contact with Oikawa while trying to convey how sorry he was that his mother was so weird.

Oikawa’s gaze flickered between returning eye contact and contemplating Suga’s hand. Suga was already getting ready to tell Oikawa to just go with her mother’s weirdness, when, seemingly thinking nothing of it, Oikawa pretended to eat the imaginary fruit Suga was holding in front of him.

Oikawa grinned, pretending to chew on the orange and snatched the phone from Suga’s hand, clearly unaware what his ‘bite’ had done to him. For, Suga was absolutely certain, it had liquefied his insides and then rearranged them in wrong order, because his heart was now where his stomach used to be.

“Thank you, Akiko-san,” Oikawa chirped when he put the call on speakerphone.

Suga heard her mother laugh, evidently delighted. “You’re welcome. You need to stay healthy.”

Both his mother’s next comment and Oikawa’s response to it went past Suga since he was too busy trying to gather his thoughts and redirect his blood back to his brain from his groin to pay any attention to the conversation happening right next to him.

“So, what’s this I heard about a change of plans?” Oikawa asked in his sleepy drawl just as Suga was coming back to himself.

“I’m coming to Tokyo tomorrow to see you two,” Akiko answered.

“What about your party? I thought you were looking forward to it.”

“I was, before I realized how dull all my friends are,” Akiko said and Oikawa chuckled lazily.

“Yes, we are much cooler,” he agreed with her and Suga rolled his eyes. It was safe to assume that he had fully woken up when had inadvertently turned his thoughts almost smutty.  “Or at least I am. I’m not so sure about Suga,” Oikawa added.

Suga huffed in amusement, reaching for his phone, but Oikawa moved it further away from him. Suga could’ve sat up and reached for it, but it seemed like too much work so early in the morning, so he gave up that idea before it had even fully formed in his head.  

“I’m glad that you’re coming here, though,” Oikawa said softly.

“Me too,” Akiko replied with a smile in her voice. “Alright, I’ll see you two tomorrow morning. Be good,” she wished with her goodbyes and ended the call.

Oikawa dropped Suga’s phone on the bed, in the space between their bodies that was no more than five centimeters wide.

“I’ll go back to my own bed so you can continue sleeping undisturbed,” Oikawa said then and started to push himself into a sitting position and out of Suga’s bed.

“No,” Suga said softly, grabbing onto the back of Oikawa’s t-shirt. “Stay.” He had no idea why he said it, why he wanted Oikawa to stay in his bed – except for the small voice inside his head telling him that it was because of his crush. He ignored it in favor of coming up with a plausible reason for Oikawa to stay.

“You can sleep here,” Suga added. “You already had to get up because I forgot my phone in your room and my mom is weird and calls before six am when she’s excited.” He felt a little bad and wanted to make up for waking Oikawa up.

Oikawa seemed a little unsure when he looked over his shoulder at Suga. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Suga nodded and turned on his side to put his cellphone on his bedside table. “I don’t want you to walk all the way to your room in your sleep-deprived state. You could hurt yourself.” He kept speaking with his back turned towards Oikawa, partly to hide his face in his dark room. He was aware that the more he said the more it sounded like a flimsy excuse, and he was a little surprised himself that he _wanted_ Oikawa to stay in _his_ bed, _with_ him. And for some reason he wasn’t surprised when Oikawa went along with it, flopping down to lie down on the bed.

Suga dared to quickly look at him. Oikawa had turned on his stomach and moved his hands and arms under the pillow under his head, eyes closed and looking like he was already falling back asleep. Suga kept watching him for a moment to make sure he was comfortable and noticed the deep inhale Oikawa took and then let out slowly.

“Your pillow smells like you,” Oikawa said sleepily, his eyes cracking open only a fraction to look at Suga.

“Sorry about that,” Suga said quietly, not sure if he should be offended, pleased or apologetic.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Oikawa said and closed his eyes again. “It smells good. I like it.”

Suga didn’t know what to say and he couldn’t think what else to do but turn away from Oikawa. This was already the second time that Suga had to will his thoughts elsewhere, trying to solve a difficult math equation in his head. He really, _really,_ didn’t need to pop a boner with Oikawa right next to him.

Once Suga had situated himself with minimal effort to lie on his side, his back again to Oikawa, he started to wonder why Oikawa said what he said. Why would he make a note of liking the way Suga smelled?

 _He probably just said it because he was still tired, sleepy and feeling comfortable in the warm bed,_ Suga thought. It was the only logical explanation.

 

…

 

Suga opened his eyes slowly when he woke up again, now at a more reasonable time in the morning. It was already light outside and a quick glance at a clock told Suga that it was way past nine am. He could get up, he _should_ get up, and knowing this, he stretched his arms high over his head with a wide yawn. Feeling an unfamiliar weight over his waist stilled Suga and he looked down. There was a third arm lazily draped around him. But he didn’t have three arms.

Right?

Belatedly, and feeling a little dumb about it, Suga remembered that Oikawa had come to his bed earlier that morning. He could feel his skin tingling under the weight of the arm when the realization of who the arm belonged to settled in him. He turned carefully under the arm not to wake up Oikawa.

Oikawa seemed to still be in deep sleep, and it provided Suga with some time to look at him. Just look at him, and admire him, looking calm and peaceful – none of the smugness or knowing superiority lingering on his face. He was breathing steadily, every inhale deep and exhale slow. It lulled Suga into tranquility, and it made his thoughts linger on every aspect his eyes could see and rest on. It caused his mind to wander on very dangerous territories and feelings.

He wanted to trace Oikawa’s features with his fingers. He wanted to run his fingers down his temple, across his cheek and down under his jaw to run it along the strong bone. He wanted to feel the smooth skin and the subtle and impossibly soft looking stubble. He bit his lower lip, thinking about tipping Oikawa’s head back just a little to –

Suga’s ringing phone interrupted his thoughts and he hastily reached back to answer it before Oikawa woke up again.

“Hello?” Suga answered with a whisper. He glanced at Oikawa and noticed his eyes opening just a fraction.  

“Your mom just called me,” Daichi said in his familiar morning gruff. Suga let out a small sigh, sorry that Oikawa had woken up.

“Sorry,” Suga apologized in a hushed voice, both to Daichi and Oikawa at the same time. Oikawa made a small nod with his head, pulling his arm away from around Suga’s waist and tucking it closer to his own body. Suga missed the contact, and quickly turned his head away so Oikawa wouldn’t see it in his expression.

“It’s alright, you know I like talking with your mom.” Daichi sounded more like himself. Suga had a feeling his mother had woken up Daichi with her call too. He closed his eyes, letting go of his regret that Oikawa’s arm wasn’t around him anymore, trying to focus on Daichi.

“She’s excited about her birthday,” Suga explained, still in a hushed voice, as he pushed his covers off and started to get up. He didn’t want to disturb Oikawa any longer. He didn’t want to be that close to Oikawa now that he seemed unattainable again. For just the briefest second, a fleeting moment, he had let himself think on what it would be like to always wake up next to Oikawa like that, and being able to kiss him awake. But now that they were both awake, it seemed impossible. Truly an unreachable dream.

“I know,” Daichi chuckled at the other end of the call, continuing to talk about something that Suga missed, because Oikawa addressed him at the same time.

“Suga-chan, can you make some coffee for me?” Oikawa asked in a yawn, his eyes scrunching closed at the force of it.

Suga smiled fondly at the vision. “Of course,” he promised easily and lightly pressed a small and gentle kiss on Oikawa’s shoulder before he flung his legs off the bed and stood up.

“You still with me, Suga?” Daichi’s voice asked, bringing Suga back to the phone call.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Suga answered as he quietly made his way out of his room. “Sorry.” He closed his room door after him.

“That’s alright,” Daichi said airily. “I guess I woke you up.”

 _Not really,_ Suga thought as he made his way to the kitchen. “It’s fine,” he said instead as he took note of the evidence that someone had already eaten breakfast. There were dishes in the sink, some uncooked rice on the counter, and some already made but undoubtedly cold coffee in the coffee pot.

“Why did you call me?” Suga asked then, wedging his cell between his shoulder and ear to make a fresh pot of coffee. “It’s not that unusual for my mom to call you when she’s excited.”

“No, that’s not why I’m calling,” Daichi said. “I’m calling because she said she canceled her birthday party. I was wondering if you knew anything about that. Is there any reason to be worried?”

Suga smiled at the thought, and fact, that his best friend cared about his mother. It was kind of sweet.

“No, there’s no need to worry,” he assured Daichi when he flipped the coffee maker on and turned to clean up after whoever had left the mess. “She said that her friends are boring and doesn’t want to celebrate getting older with them.”

“She’s coming here, isn’t she?” Daichi asked with a knowing tone.

“She threatened to, and I finally agreed when she wore me down calling before it was even six.”

Daichi laughed at the other end. “She’s sneaky. I love her,” he admitted seriously when his laughing died down.

“Want her to be your mom? I’m ready to trade.” Suga suggested half-seriously. “I like your mom, she’s normal.”

Daichi chuckled. “No, I like my mom too, and I wouldn’t know how to handle your mom being my mom. I honestly don’t know how you do it.”

“I just roll with it,” Suga shrugged. “It’s funny how you get used to her antics even when she keeps surprising you with them.” He kept cleaning up the kitchen as they talked. He had done the same many times before, too many to count, and he didn’t have to think too much on what he was doing, everything happening naturally.

“I know,” Daichi agreed with a fond tone and then sighed. “Alright, I have to go wake up Hajime.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Suga said as a goodbye, knowing fully well that Daichi couldn’t be kept away from meeting his mother on his day off.

“Yes you will,” Daichi confirmed and Suga hang up the phone on Daichi’s chuckle.

He put his phone down on the now clean counter, and settled to lean back against it, listening the familiar sounds of his coffee maker.

_Wait..._

Suga’s eyes widened when a realization struck him like a lightning, making the hairs on his arms stand up.

_I kissed Oikawa?_

_I_ kissed _Oikawa?!_

Where the hell had that come from?

Suga shot a furtive glance towards the hallway and the general direction of his bedroom where Oikawa probably was still trying to wake up. He brought his hand to his lips, still feeling the ghost of touch of Oikawa’s cotton t-shirt against them now that he thought about it.

He really hoped that Oikawa hadn’t been awake enough to notice the sudden display of affection. He hoped it wouldn’t matter, whether Oikawa had or hadn’t noticed it.

With a shaky exhale Suga tried to shake the feeling out of him. If he looked rattled in front of Oikawa, he would ask about it, insist on finding out why Suga seemed out of sorts. He tried to think of normal everyday things, calming down, willing the waves of simultaneous affection and fear that were surging inside him to go down and never rise up again. He knew that spending prolonged time with Oikawa would cause something like that to happen. He knew, and yet he had done nothing effective to make sure it wouldn’t happen.

Later on, in the future when it does come to matter, Suga isn’t sure what kind of cosmic joke or maybe a coincidence it had been that Oikawa didn’t notice the soft press of Suga’s lips against his shoulder.

 

...

 

“You have Pong?” Oikawa asked. He was hanging over the back of the couch, observing Suga and what he was doing.

“What?” Suga looked up at him. He was elbow-deep in the small chest stuffed full of various items and memories, albums and old VHS cassettes.

“Pong,” Oikawa said again as he stood up from the couch and made his way around it to the chest. He kneeled down next to Suga, and took out the old console he was talking about.

“Oh, yeah,” Suga said distractedly and turned his attention back to his task.

“Does it still work?” Oikawa asked, thoroughly inspecting the console, turning it over in his hands.

“I think so,” Suga replied. “I haven’t played for years, though.”

“Could we play?” Oikawa was hopeful, looking at Suga now, resting the console on his knees.

“You want to play Pong?” Suga asked like he wasn’t sure if he had heard Oikawa correctly, looking straight at him.

“I want to beat you in it,” Oikawa corrected him and got up. He heard Suga snort with amusement and he looked at him in surprise. “What?”

“You’d probably lose,” Suga answered, continuing to dig through the chest. Oikawa was still a little unclear on what Suga was even looking for.

“There’s no way I’d lose in a game that I mastered when I was ten, beating every opponent.”

“Even the CPU?” Suga asked like he wouldn’t believe it to be true even in his dreams.

“Especially the CPU,” Oikawa boasted, although he couldn’t really remember if he had ever played against the console. “On the hardest setting.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “That much was clear from your tone,” he informed Suga. “But I’ll prove it to you.”

“By beating me?” Suga asked, still not believing him.

“Exactly,” Oikawa continued in his smuggest voice.

“Alright, I’ll accept your challenge,” Suga said getting up and brushing his hands off on his pants. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he added when he sat on a pillow on the floor in front of the TV.

“How come you never told me you had this?” Oikawa asked in slight bewilderment as he set up the game, connecting it to the TV. Suga even had the correct and appropriate hook-ups for such an old game console to be connected on such a new TV.

“It just never came up, I guess.”

“Or maybe you had heard that I’m kick-ass at this game and didn’t want to be embarrassed because of your subpar skills.” Oikawa grinned like a victor already, sitting down next to Suga.

“You shouldn’t gloat prematurely,” Suga warned him, but Oikawa couldn’t help it. He had just discovered one of his childhood favorite games, and he was about to play it with Suga. He was happy, able to forget the stress of finishing school for the moment. It was doubling and enforcing the euphoria he was feeling.

“Loser makes dinner tonight,” Oikawa proposed a deal, offering his hand to shake. Suga eyed him for a moment, and shook his outstretched hand.

“You’re on,” Suga smiled like he was holding a secret on the tip of his tongue. “But no crying or demanding rematches or calling me mean when I beat you.”

“Mean,” Oikawa stated casually.

Suga tilted his head to look at him like he was a seven year old and had just struck his tongue out at him.

“What?” Oikawa asked innocently, starting up their game.  “I can’t say it to you when I win,” he reasoned with a wide grin.

Suga chuckled under his breath and shook his head.

Ten minutes later Oikawa thought that he should have taken Suga’s warning seriously, because he was practically getting laughed at by Suga as he pleaded for a rematch.

“I can’t believe you won’t play a rematch with me,” Oikawa deplored.

“I will some other night, when I feel like eating your cooking again,” Suga smiled victoriously.

“I’m not cooking tonight,” Oikawa declared then, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance.

“We made a deal, Oikawa,” Suga reminded him patiently.

“No, I don’t agree to your reasonable reasoning.” Oikawa was adamant with his own unreasonable childishness. He looked away from Suga with his chin high to get his point across – the point being that he was a four year old toddler who was going through his rebellious phase. He heard Suga sigh then.

“Okay, a rematch,” Suga said and Oikawa turned fully to look at him, but kept his arms crossed and his eyes suspicious in case Suga was bluffing. “But if I win again, you’re making dinner for the whole week. Including tomorrow when my mom’s here.”

Oikawa didn’t need to think about it. He had gotten what he wanted and he grabbed his controller with glee. “And if I win, you’re cooking for a week.”

“That wasn’t the deal, but alright.” Suga said with a small smile and started a new game.

Oikawa did better this time, but figured that Suga had Jedi-level skills and reflexes. He had never seen anyone act and move as quickly and accurately to block the little square “ball” that was going from one side of the screen to the other like his old DVD player’s screensaver icon.

“You’re cheating somehow,” Oikawa declared confidently when Suga was leading with seventeen points.

Suga laughed at that, scoring another point. “I’m just good.”

Oikawa felt more than saw Suga’s shrug. He hadn’t noticed it before, but in midst of the excitement of the game they had moved closer to each other on the floor, their shoulders lightly touching. It was impossible to say who had moved first or more, but that didn’t deny the fact that they both _had moved._ Closer.

It provided Oikawa with a plan to win. He made a little nudge with his elbow, making it seem like an accident. It didn’t work.

“Who’s cheating now?” Suga sounded amused when he asked.

“You,” Oikawa answered, unfazed. “We should have switched controls before the rematch.” He made another nudge towards Suga, little harder now and Suga swayed in place from the force of it.

“What are you doing?” Suga laughed, the sound of it airy and light.

“I’m playing,” Oikawa answered again, playing up the innocence card. “What are you doing?”

“Two can play this game, Oikawa,” Suga warned then, still laughing a little and Oikawa felt a push on his side. His eyes widened from surprise. Had Suga just tried to sabotage his playing just like he had tried to do to Suga?

“Well, there are two of us here, playing Pong,” Oikawa stated and pushed Suga back.

Suga almost fell over to his side. He only managed to save himself with one hand on the ground from keeling over fully.

“Oikawa, I want you to remember that you started this,” Suga warned again, but his voice was missing the usual threat in it. He sounded more amused than angry and Oikawa was encouraged to nudge Suga with his whole body this time.

Suga fell over completely then, going down laughing. In middle of their playful scuffle Oikawa managed to score a point, but it had done little in catching up to Suga’s lead.

However, Suga was still laughing on the floor, unable to play from the force of his giggles. Oikawa hadn’t realized before then just how much he loved that sound. And he couldn’t keep down his own chuckles. Suga’s laughter was truly infectious and Oikawa was suddenly reminded how the same had happened all the way back when he had first met Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi.

To think he had gotten so worked up about Pong, of all games, Oikawa went the same way Suga had. He fell to lie on his stomach next to Suga, trying to calm himself. He wasn’t able to play either, the controller had fallen from his hand – the cord of it couldn’t reach to where Oikawa was lying. But it didn’t matter. Since he had won the last point, it was his “serve” and since Suga couldn’t play and block the “ball”, Oikawa kept scoring again and again. He kept watching the “ball” serve on its own from his side and disappear from the screen on Suga’s side. Until he eventually won.

“I won!” Oikawa shouted with glee when he noticed it.

“You cheated!” Suga protested, struggling to hold in his laughter.

Oikawa acted like he hadn’t heard Suga and tried to get up to do a victory dance. Suga wasn’t having any of that, however, and yanked Oikawa back down on the floor and climbed to lie on him.

Oikawa was so unbelievable happy that he won the silly game, that he couldn’t stop laughing. The fact that Suga was lying on his back to stop him from getting up, and simultaneously laughing, only made Oikawa laugh harder. He could feel Suga’s similarly uncontrollable laughter against his body, and boy, did he love that feeling too.  

Their laughter only grew louder when Oikawa tried to get up, first on all fours. The task seemed impossible with all the laughing straining his muscles. He slumped back on his stomach a couple of times, only making Suga laugh harder when it happened, before he managed to get up. Suga quickly changed his position a little when he noticed that Oikawa had successfully pushed his weight up on his legs and arms.

Oikawa felt Suga’s arms and legs wrap around his torso, clinging onto him like a baby monkey would on its mother’s back. He held on tight around Oikawa, his laughter still lovely and wonderful and tingling in Oikawa’s ears when he pushed himself to sit on his knees. Suga didn’t let go and Oikawa wondered if he could stand up and, if he could, would Suga still hold onto him like so. Even though he was taller than Suga, the height difference wasn’t _that_ big. He knew that Asahi and Nishinoya, for example, could perform such a trick easily.

“Are you ever going to let go?” Oikawa inquired, trying to look at Suga over his shoulder. Suga had hidden his face, his hiccupping breaths fanning over Oikawa’s back between his shoulder blades.

“Depends,” Suga answered, calming down almost immediately, but securing his arms to hold on tighter and crossing his ankles in front of Oikawa’s stomach. “What are you going to do?”

“Get up,” Oikawa answered. “I need to do my victory dance.” He grinned, looking at the scores on the TV.

“But you didn’t win,” Suga argued softly, and Oikawa felt Suga’s chin hook over his shoulder.

Oikawa tried not to think too hard on why Suga was holding on so tightly. He didn’t need the unnecessary daydreams of what that might mean. It turned out to be another impossible mission for him, still feeling Suga’s body wrapped around his. It felt warm and wonderful and Oikawa secretly wished that Suga would never let go.

“Look at the scores.” Oikawa pointed towards the TV. “I won.”

“You cheated. It doesn’t count.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

Suga chuckled, “You pushed me. That’s cheating.”

“How is that cheating?” Oikawa demanded to know. All of a sudden he was trying to prove his innocence and talk Suga around about the alleged cheating.

“It interfered with my playing,” Suga stated.  

“I don’t remember any pushing.  I do remember you falling on the floor, but that was all your own doing. I would never even dream about cheating. I don’t need to cheat to win. And how is it cheating if you’re just lying on the floor laughing?”

Suga started to laugh again and Oikawa felt his arms and legs’ hold loosen before they slipped off completely and Suga fell on the floor. Oikawa turned to look behind him.

“See, just like that.” He pointed out triumphantly. Suga was holding his stomach, laughing so hard. Oikawa was glad to see that Suga was happy. Technically, he had cheated a bit with his nudging, but since Suga didn’t seem angry at all, he didn’t feel too bad about it.

“You’re ridiculous,” Suga managed to say between his bursts of laughter, wiping happy tears from his eyes.

“How am I the ridiculous one when you’re the one who’s laughing about nothing whatsoever?” Oikawa asked with a too wide grin that made his cheeks hurt.

Suga laughed even harder and little bursts of laughter escaped from Oikawa as well as he observed and listened to Suga, wondering what was so funny.

He waited patiently for Suga to calm down again and lay down on his stomach next to Suga again, propping his torso up with his elbows on the floor. “How about we make dinner together? Since we each both won a game.”

“You didn’t win,” Suga protested immediately.

“Excuse me,” Oikawa huffed in mock-scandal. “Look at the scores.” He pointed at the TV again.

“We’re not going through the same routine again,” Suga shook his head with bright eyes and smile. “We’re not doing that bit.”

“Come on, Suga-chan,” Oikawa pleaded with a pout and gently pulled on the hem of Suga’s shirt. “I don’t want to make dinner alone. Make it with me.”

Suga looked straight at Oikawa, his head tilted in a way that Suga had to look down to see him. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll help.”

Oikawa smiled like he’d won a prize. “Thank you,” he said sweetly. He got up quickly and then helped Suga up as well, offering his hand to him and easily pulling him up. Oikawa probably held onto Suga’s hand a second too long for it to be casual. He just couldn’t help wanting to hold onto Suga, and Suga didn’t seem to mind, only letting go after Oikawa did.

“Next time, when you want to cook dinner together, just ask me.” Suga spoke as he washed his hands at the sink. “You don’t have to make this whole ruse of playing a game and making a bet and then cheating when you’re losing and insisting that you didn’t cheat.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Oikawa grinned and hip-checked Suga to the side to so he could wash his hands too.

“You did,” Suga said back with a smile.

“I thought we weren’t going to do this bit again,” Oikawa pointed out.

“You’re right.”

Oikawa nodded as an agreement and went to the fridge. “And I didn’t cheat,” he had to say, because he thought it would be funny, when he opened the door and hid his grin to peruse over the contents.

He heard Suga laugh again before he asked, “Why do I put up with you?” Oikawa felt him come behind him to see what they had in their fridge.

“Because you like me,” Oikawa stated, teasing evident in his voice. He actually had no clear idea about why Suga was so nice and sweet towards him, why he went with him whatever he came up with. But he hoped that liking had at least something to do with it.

He imagined that it could make things easier when, in the near future, he told Suga that he liked him.

“That’s debatable.”

Oikawa looked over his shoulder and saw Suga smiling, his eyes flitting to look at Oikawa and then back to the shelves inside the fridge. Oikawa considered Suga’s glances and amused and light voice. And everything else that had happened during the last fifteen minutes.

“You like me,” Oikawa said more confidently, deciding to believe in what he said while he said it. If he believed that Suga liked him, it was more likely to be true, right?

“Have you decided what you’re going to make yet?” Suga asked while faking impatience and Oikawa chuckled, recognizing it.

“Yep.” He closed the fridge. “We’re going to order pizza.”

“That’s not cooking together.”

Oikawa could’ve imagined the hint of disappointment in Suga’s voice.

“I’ll pay,” he promised, looking for his phone and locating it on the coffee table. “And I don’t need to study or write tonight because we finished the graphics yesterday, so we can watch a movie.”

“Sounds good,” Suga agreed with a soft smile as he returned to the living room and sat down on the couch.

“By the way, what were you looking for in the chest?” Oikawa asked, gesturing towards it with his chin. The chest was still open, forgotten in the excitement of playing Pong.

“Oh, for an old photo album,” Suga answered easily.

“Why?”

“Because my mom is coming.”

Oikawa thought about Suga’s answer for a moment and finished the pizza order. “Is it filled with your baby pictures?” he asked and put his phone away.

“No,” Suga said too quickly and a slow, knowing grin spread on Oikawa’s lips.

“Yes, it is,” he said and went over to the couch that Suga was sitting on, settling down with his side almost pressed against Suga’s. “It’s your baby album.”

“Such a thing doesn’t even exist.”

“Yes, it does,” Oikawa snickered. “I want to see your baby pictures.”

“There are no baby pictures in the chest.” Suga had tilted his head a little to the side, his gaze on the ceiling like he was simultaneously trying to look and bored and trying not to look bored.

“So, baby pictures do exist, but not here?” Oikawa clarified with a wicked grin.

“Maybe,” Suga answered slowly, prolonging the word with a distrustful look in his eyes when his gaze flickered to Oikawa. “But do you honestly think my mom would let me hold onto them?”

Oikawa snickered.

“She’s too paranoid that something would happen to them. Someone might accidentally drop them into a shredder, or set them on fire, or drown them in water.” Suga listed possible scenarios that might happen, purely coincidentally, if he was in the possession of said pictures.

“Why are you embarrassed about your baby pictures?” Oikawa was honestly interested in knowing. “I bet you were cute when you were a baby.”

“I have no idea what I was like.” Suga shook his head solemnly and Oikawa actually believed him. “You know, when I was little and I found them, I drew mustache on my face in one of the pictures. When mom found out she freaked out and locked them away.” Suga chuckled with his story. “I haven’t seen them for twenty years.”

“She’s hardcore protective of her precious memories,” Oikawa thought out loud.

“I’m pretty sure she’s just holding them as blackmail material.” Suga continued in his solemn voice, a thoughtful and serious look on him.

Oikawa snickered again, “Why would she do something like that?”

“I told you I drew a mustache.” Suga turned his head to look at Oikawa. “Isn’t that an answer to your question already?”

Oikawa’s snickering turned into a full-blown laughter. “I’m imagining you as a baby with villain mustache now,” he explained in midst of his laughter when he caught Suga’s incredulous look.

“Drawing that mustache is my earliest memory,” Suga said then, smiling as well. “I was convinced that it was just a dream or a memory that I made up until I was nineteen.”

Oikawa chuckled more. With his shoulder now pressed against Suga’s, he could feel Suga’s own chuckles more than hear them.

“My earliest memory is from the first day of school.” Oikawa revealed. “Just nervously waiting in the yard.”

“That’s cute,” Suga commented and Oikawa approved his opinion. It _was_ cute.

“What’s your earliest memory from school?” Oikawa asked. He shifted a little on the couch to sit in a more comfortable position, and brought one of his legs up on the couch, his knee bent in front of him.

“Hmm...” Suga thought about his answer for a spell. “Smuggling my Tamagochi in.”

Oikawa burst out in laughter again. “I had one of those as well. It always died when I was at school since I couldn’t feed it or anything.”

“Same here,” Suga said. “That’s why I smuggled it in.”

“Did you get caught?”

“Yes,” Suga admitted quietly. “It was being loud and my teacher heard it chirping in my pocket.”

Oikawa chuckled sympathetically before he jumped into a story about his first year in school, and thus the rest of their evening and night was spent swapping childhood stories over their pizzas. They were alternately listening and commenting, laughing and musing. Whenever Oikawa thought he had already told everything he could, a story or a little factoid that Suga told about himself reminded Oikawa of another one of his own.

The pleasant atmosphere, fun company, and good food caused Suga and Oikawa to lie down on the floor in middle of their living room. Their heads were resting on pillows, and Oikawa couldn’t care about the hard floor under his back with Suga’s legs lazily slung over his stomach. His own hand was resting on Suga’s knee whenever he wasn’t using it to gesture along with his story.

It became another one of those nights that Oikawa was sure he would look back on fondly when he was old. As he was lying in his own bed, looking up at the ceiling, he hoped that Suga thought the same. The night had been really comfortable and fun – and most importantly undisturbed.

And Oikawa thought how far along they had come since he had moved into the apartment. Five months ago, it had required an interview-type of scenario for the two of them to get to know each other better, but now they were practically speaking over each other in excitement of sharing memories of their childhood and adolescence.

He kept thinking about it even when he opened his laptop and opened his dissertation. He had said that he didn’t need to study that night, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t if he felt like it.

 

...

 

The next morning, Suga opened Oikawa’s room door gingerly, trying not to wake him up. Although, why he was being careful was anyone’s guess, since he had come to Oikawa’s room with the intent on waking him up.   

Oikawa was sleeping in his bed, lying partly on his stomach, his arms under the pillow he had pressed his cheek on. Suga watched him for a moment, just watched the slow pattern of his breathing. Suga still got caught up in his handsome face, no matter how often he had seen it, and no matter what expression was on it.

Suga remembered his ‘mission’ again when Oikawa let out a sigh and shifted a little in his sleep. He realized that the way he had been staring at Oikawa could’ve been described as creepy if he stared any longer, and shook himself out of his trance quickly. He climbed into Oikawa’s bed, after a split second of consideration, and pressed his chest against Oikawa’s back, shaking him a little.

“Oikawa,” he said kindly but not too softly, because he needed Oikawa to wake up. He had urgent matters to attend to. But there was no reaction.

“Tooru?” Suga tried next and there was some stirring happening. “Wake up.”

“No,” came Oikawa’s muffled response and Suga bit his lip not to laugh because it was the cutest thing he had ever heard come from Oikawa’s mouth.

“Please,” Suga asked nicely and shook his arm. “I need you to wake up.”

“Why?” Oikawa whined.

“I have to go soon. Takeda-sensei needs me for something.” Suga started to explain. “Can you go meet my mom at the train station?”

“Oh, right, she comes today,” Oikawa said slowly, like he had both just remembered it, and like he had always remembered it.

“Can you go and meet her?” Suga asked again.

“Sure,” Oikawa sighed, and shifted again, taking a new position to fall back asleep. Suga couldn’t let that happen yet.

“Where’s your phone?”

Oikawa whined again, “Why?”

“I’m setting an alarm,” Suga replied, his eyes finding Oikawa’s phone on his bedside table. He reached over Oikawa’s body and took the device.

Suga rested back on Oikawa’s extra pillow next to him and felt momentarily stumped by the passcode request.

“What’s your passcode?” Suga asked and Oikawa rolled over.

“Give me,” Oikawa said in a voice that was low from sleep and took his phone.

Suga watched him, noticing how sleepy he still was, his eyes slowly blinking open and closed, fighting the sleepiness. He looked really tired too as he tapped the correct numbers on the screen. Suga wondered how late Oikawa had studied last night again. He had heard him late that night, after they had said their goodnights, even though Oikawa had said that he didn’t need to study.

Suga kept worrying about Oikawa overworking himself – he was almost continuously stressed. There were just the briefest moments when he could see the stress leech out of Oikawa when they settled down for some fun and relaxation. But once the fun was over, and Oikawa was free to think about other things again, it was guaranteed that his thoughts returned to school work and his dissertation.

“There,” Oikawa said and Suga snatched the phone back, fiddling already to find the alarm and setting it to wake Oikawa up well before he’d have to go to the train station. He was too engrossed in his task to notice Oikawa looking at him until he was about to pass the phone back to the bedside table.

“What?” Suga asked when he saw Oikawa’s eyes on him.

“Nothing,” Oikawa answered with a small quirk up on his lips that Suga would describe to seem happy. He was adorable like that – sleepy expression, heavy eyelids and a small soft smile.

“Okay,” Suga took him at his word and reached over Oikawa again to put his phone back on the bedside table.

“You look good in my bed, that’s all,” Oikawa said when Suga had replaced the phone and was about to get up. Oikawa’s words stilled him, he felt as if he had just missed the last step on staircase, and he wondered if he had heard Oikawa correctly. He didn’t dare to look at Oikawa anymore though. No. That would be too much. He didn’t need to know how Oikawa was looking at him, when he said the words.

“The alarm will wake you up in about three hours,” Suga said, thinking it best to get up before he could convince himself to look at Oikawa. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Oikawa yawned and Suga moved off the bed. “When does your mom’s train arrive?”

“One o’clock,” Suga said, willing himself into tunnel vision as he made his way to the door and out of Oikawa’s room. “I’ll try to come home as soon as I can, but I can’t make any promises, not with Takeda-sensei.”

“Alright,” Suga heard Oikawa say again.

Suga closed the room door quietly, and once he was alone in the hallway, he let out a long exhale. He had unknowingly held his breath since Oikawa’s comment about looking good in his bed. He tried to rid himself of the words, of the soft, knowing and appreciative tone of voice Oikawa had said it in, and the implications the statement had.

Yes, Suga had a crush on Oikawa, but he didn’t need to keep it alive on presumptions or wishful thinking – because Oikawa definitely wasn’t crushing on him. He was Oikawa. He was too beautiful to want to be with someone like Suga. At least that was what Suga thought when he exited the apartment and braved the still-cold winter air.

 

…

 

“Hello, Akiko-san.” Oikawa called and her face brightened with her lovely smile when she noticed him.

“Hello, Tooru,” she said back and hugged him immediately when he was at her arms’ length. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Oikawa drew back to look at her. “Happy birthday,” he wished whole-heartedly. It was amazing how this woman had so easily and so quickly endeared herself on him. They had only met once before, and spoken on the phone barely two times. And yet, she was one of the few people Oikawa held dearest to him.

“Thank you, dear.” She kept smiling. “Where is Koushi?” She looked around on the busy platform for him.

“He was called to a meeting with his agent this morning and he couldn’t get out of it,” Oikawa explained, trying to sound like he was truly sorry about it. Suga had asked him to relay his apologies that he couldn’t be there to greet his mother, when he had called earlier to say that he couldn’t escape and was most likely held captive and he was almost certain that he had heard someone mention Buffalo Bill and Hannibal Lecter. Oikawa had of course laughed because that sounded ridiculous, but made promises that if Suga didn’t come home by six, he would go and get him, with reinforcements, all dressed like they were secret agents – black suits and black sunglasses and all that jazz. “So he asked me to come and meet you.”

“That’s really sweet of you, both of you, thank you.” Akiko said gratefully. “Is Koushi thinking of having another exhibit?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think so,” Oikawa answered honestly. “He’s really secretive about it.”

“Oh, he’s definitely planning something.” Akiko giggled conspiratorially.

Oikawa agreed with her. Suga probably didn’t have anything set in stone yet, but he was definitely taking photos with the intent of exhibiting and selling them at some point.

“You know, it’s really sweet of you to come and walk with me, but I could’ve found my way to your apartment on my own,” Akiko said as they exited the station.

“I know,” Oikawa said but didn’t actually think so – he had heard from Suga of the numerous times that she had almost gotten lost in the city. “But since it’s your birthday I thought I’d be nice and walk with you,” he shrugged and gently took her suitcase from her.

“Well, I would never say no to a gentleman wanting to do me a kindness.” Akiko spoke like she had just jumped out of a Victorian novel and slid her hand on the crook of Oikawa’s elbow.

“How was the train ride?” Oikawa asked when they started to make their way through the masses of people and towards the even busier streets of Tokyo.

“Quite pleasant, actually,” Akiko answered and jumped on a story of too many tangents for Oikawa to truly follow it all. And he was a smart and quick learner, but Akiko was even more well-versed than Suga when it came to stories and tall tales and possible scenarios, and he had to admit that he was thoroughly lost on what Akiko was talking about, or had been talking about, when she said the words ‘water balloon’, ‘baboon’ and ‘knife’, without any apparent context. Not that Oikawa minded, though. She had a pleasant voice, and her talking made their walk seem shorter than it actually was.

“I get where Suga-chan got his ability to spin his stories,” Oikawa said as he opened the building’s front door and held it open for Akiko to go in first.

“Oh, Koushi is a watered down version of me.” Akiko flipped her hand. “I love him, I really do and not just because I have to because I’m his mother, but he could never come up with the kind of epic tales that I can,” she boasted.

Oikawa chuckled, believing her every word to be true, as they started to make their way up the stairs. They stopped three steps up when they heard quick footsteps running down and soon enough, Nishinoya almost barreled into them.  

“AKIKO!” He crowed excitedly when he recognized her.

“Yuu darling!” Akiko greeted him almost as loudly and hugged him. “You’ve grown.”

“You always say that when you see me,” Nishinoya smiled widely.

“It’s either that or I’m getting shorter and the latter isn’t an acceptable possibility.”

Nishinoya laughed. “Then you must be right, I’m getting taller. I can’t wait to tell everyone at work.”

Now it was Akiko’s turn to grace the ordinary stairwell with her laughter and Oikawa watched their interaction idly, listening but not paying much attention to their conversation.

“Are you here long?” Nishinoya asked then, looking hopeful.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Akiko replied, sounding regretful that her visit was so short. “But I’m making dinner tonight. You can come and celebrate with us.”

“I’ll definitely be there,” Nishinoya promised eagerly. “I have to go now or I’ll be late for work. I already got a speeding ticket last week and I can’t afford another one.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” Akiko chuckled. “Drive safely,” she added then and Nishinoya jumped down the last steps, waving over his shoulder at them when he exited the building.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t run anyone over yet,” Oikawa mused half-heartedly. He didn’t really think that, and yet it held some sense of something that was possible to him.

“Really?” Akiko asked as she started to go up again. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“He’s responsible,” Akiko replied solemnly. “He knows what he’s doing.”

Oikawa didn’t exactly agree with her on that. Nishinoya did appear to be driven and knowing what he wanted and going after it. But he could be irresponsible at times too. There was a reason Oikawa had thought that Nishinoya would, if he hadn’t already, somehow end up in jail. Not because he was a bad person, but because he sometimes acted before thinking. Oikawa swore that sometimes Nishinoya seemed to function on nothing but pure instinct.

When they got the second floor, Oikawa didn’t stand on ceremony or make a big showing of pulling out his keys. Their front door was open, as he had left it when he went to meet Akiko at the train station. He merely opened their door, bringing Akiko’s suitcase in with him, and Akiko followed him inside.

“Welcome back,” Oikawa smiled charmingly at her, bowing a little and making a motion with his hand like he was the most courteous maître d at the fanciest hotel.

Akiko acknowledged his show with a small giggle. “Should I make us tea?” she asked then, once she had hung up her coat.

“No, I’ll make it,” Oikawa offered. “You’re a guest and it’s your birthday.”

Akiko nodded her approval with a smile.

“Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to insist on making a ridiculous amount of food again and that you can’t be persuaded not to,” Oikawa added with a knowing grin.

“Of course,” Akiko replied like it was the most truthful truth and the most factual fact in the world. “I’ll take my suitcase to Koushi’s room if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Oikawa said and went to the kitchen while Akiko disappeared down the hallway.

 

...

 

Suga rang the buzzer for the apartment Takeda had told him. He was a little peeved that this couldn’t wait, not according to Takeda, because it was his mother’s birthday and he kind of wanted to spend it with her and not in a boring meeting.

He heard an annoying noise when the lock was opened and Suga pushed the door open and made his way to the elevator. A quick look at the board by the door told him that the apartment he was looking for was in the sixth floor.

He didn’t have to wait long for the elevator, a soft ding echoing in the empty hall when it arrived. The door opened quickly and Suga was about to step inside when he saw a familiar face.

Suga smiled. “Hello Yamaguchi-san.”

Yamaguchi looked up from his phone with surprise. “Oh, hello Sugawara-san,” he greeted back shyly.

“You can call me Suga,” Suga told him the fifth time, as many times as they had met.

Yamaguchi nodded, still looking shy, staring down at his shoes when he stepped out of the elevator.

Suga still wondered why Yamaguchi was so shy around him. He had seen Yamaguchi interact with others as well, and even though he was a little nervous sometimes, he never blushed or looked away from anyone else when they admired or complimented his art like Suga did.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” Yamaguchi said then, when he made his way past Suga, nervously glancing up to look into his eyes.

Suga smiled encouragingly, trying to wordlessly tell him that he didn’t need to be so shy around him. “Have a good day,” he wished then and Yamaguchi made a little wave with his hand before he exited the building. Suga looked after him for a moment, contemplating on Yamaguchi’s behavior, but was brought back to where he was when he heard the elevator doors starting to close. He quickly pushed the button and they opened again and he stepped in with a sigh. He mentally prepared for a long and boring day on his way up.

Takeda was waiting for him when he got to the right floor and invited him inside the apartment.

Suga was instantaneously amazed by what he saw when he had taken his shoes and coat off. The apartment was amazing – no matter where Suga looked, he could see nothing he didn’t like.

The space was huge, open plan with tall windows. It was the kind of space that Suga would love to live in. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his apartment, his home. But if he’d have to move, he’d look for a place like this. He looked around him in wonder, noting the high ceilings, wishing for the umpteenth time in his lifetime that he lived in an apartment with high ceiling as well.

The walls were the lightest blue Suga had ever seen, so light they were almost white, just the hint of the blue giving the impression that the walls had some color in them. And the art around the apartment. _Takeda really loved art, didn’t he,_ Suga thought as he admired everything he could see. The art wasn’t modern, though, and it fit perfectly with the sparse and classic looking furniture.

“It’s good that you could come today,” Takeda said when he motioned for Suga to follow him.

“I can’t stay long,” Suga warned him. “I had previous plans before you called.”

“Oh, this won’t take long,” Takeda made a distracted move with his hand and Suga sighed. He knew what that meant. He would be here for hours. “I just want to discuss your next exhibit.”

“I don’t have anything for one yet.”

“But you have taken photos, haven’t you?” Takeda looked at Suga with alarm when they stopped by a long desk, filled with sample pictures of his clients’ art, old and new fliers for galleries and exhibits, and pens and various papers littered among them.

“Yes,” Suga nodded and sat down.

“Can I see?” Takeda asked hopefully then and pulled his laptop from underneath all the clutter on his desk.

“Yeah, I brought what I had like you asked me to.” Suga took a flash drive from his pocket and handed it to Takeda.

“I don’t understand why this was so urgent,” Suga said while Takeda plucked the flash drive onto his laptop and then moved it so they both could see the photos at the same time. “If you just wanted to see what I have so far, couldn’t we have done this on another day?”

“Shimizu-san has a day available for an exhibit,” Takeda started to explain but stopped when he saw the first photo on the slideshow he had started.

“Okay,” Suga prompted Takeda to continue. The photo wasn’t anything special, not to Suga. Just another he had taken of a bare tree, in middle of a snowy field. He had traveled far during December on his expeditions and stumbled upon it. “And?”

“And,” Takeda moved onto another photo, “she needs to know if you want to use her space then for an exhibit by today.”

“Oh,” Suga was a little disappointed. Usually Shimizu had called him to arrange a day for an exhibit.

“Oh?” Takeda looked at him in question. “You sound disappointed.”

“It’s just...” Suga sighed and looked down in his lap in search of an explanation. “Did she call you?” he asked, looking up to Takeda.

“No, I called her, asking for availability. I knew you’d want to have your exhibit in her gallery, and I like to think and plan ahead. I didn’t think the space would be open so quickly, but since it’s so sudden, she needs an answer as soon as possible.”

“Oh,” Suga said again, now understanding the situation.

“And I wanted to see you and your potential photos before I give her an answer.” Takeda finished and moved onto another photo – a bird’s footprints on the fresh snow, and the shadow of the said bird above them, wings spread wide.

“How soon is it?” Suga asked.

“March fifteenth.” Takeda answered casually. Too casually for Suga’s liking.

“That’s only a month away.”

“I know,” Takeda nodded. “I like this one.”

Suga quickly pushed the arrow key to move onto the next photo.

Takeda turned to look at him with a knowing smile. “He’s special to you.”

“I’m not putting that photo in the exhibit.” Suga answered shortly. He had just dumped all the latest photos he had taken onto the flash drive without any screening. He didn’t mean for Takeda to see the photo he had taken of Oikawa.

“Who is he?” Takeda asked pushing his glasses up on his nose, intrigued by the apparent mystery man.

“He’s no one.”

“You’re close with him.” Takeda interpreted the meaning of Suga’s words.

“Can we just look at the other photos so you can determine whether you think I’m ready for an exhibit or not?” Suga asked, nudging the laptop closer to Takeda to make his point. “And for the record, I don’t think that I am.”

“I disagree,” Takeda said.

A funny incredulous smile lifted up on Suga’s lips. “You’ve seen three photos so far.”

“And you already know that you won’t have this photo in it,” Takeda pressed on another arrow key to go back to the photo of Oikawa. “Which tells me you have thought about your gallery, and you probably have a pretty clear view of what you want in it, what you already have for one.”

Suga moved onto the next photo again.

“You’re ready,” Takeda added with a decisive nod and a smile, before he focused on the rest of the photos.

Four hours later, Suga stepped inside the elevator again and pushed the button for the first floor. The ride down wasn’t long, but he leaned back against the wall with weariness and dug out his phone. Without even thinking about it, at least not much, his fingers moved to find his gallery, and then swiped to find that photo. The photo of Oikawa.

It was a good photo, one of Suga’s favorites. He had snapped it in secret, so he was sure Oikawa didn’t know he had taken it. Oikawa had been sitting in his armchair in the living room, reading a thick book, oblivious to the world around him. He looked so unbelievably handsome whenever that happened, he probably didn’t’ even realize it. And Suga could look at him forever. On that particular day, the bright winter sun had been shining in through their window in just the perfect angle to create a perfect setting and lighting on Oikawa’s face. It had been a visual, a memory of sorts that Suga wanted to preserve for the future.   

Suga closed his eyes and put his phone away blindly when the elevator dinged at arriving at the first floor. He was so screwed, crushing heavily on Oikawa.

He had already screwed up last night – playing around with Oikawa and spontaneously hanging and clinging onto him. He really needed to get a hold of himself, to try and contain his feelings around Oikawa. He had even screwed up on yesterday morning with that small kiss he had given on Oikawa’s shoulder that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

 

...

 

“What is this?” Akiko asked and when Oikawa turned to look at her, he saw her pointing at the album Suga had left on the kitchen island.

“It’s a photo album.” Oikawa answered her with a small smile. He knew she knew it was a photo album. He knew what she had really been asking.

“I know it’s a photo album,” Akiko said patiently and dragged the album closer. “I meant to ask whose is it, what’s in it, and why was it left here.”

“It’s Suga’s. He dug it out of that chest yesterday. I don’t know what’s in it.” Oikawa answered her questions, matching her patient tone. “I think it has something to do with you.”

“Oh,” Akiko said and carefully lifted one corner of the album to take a peek inside before she hastily dropped it, like it had burned her fingers. “Is it okay if I take a look?” She looked up at Oikawa with a mischievous smile, so much like her son’s. Oikawa knew she’d look even if he said no.

“I guess,” Oikawa shrugged with a smile. “I’m sure Suga wouldn’t mind.”

“Good.” Akiko’s smile was wide and happy when she turned over the cover of the album, and sighed when she saw the first photo. “Oh, it’s my birthdays.”

“Hm?” Oikawa asked, interested, and he made his way on her side of the island to see. He had been curious about the album as well, but hadn’t taken a look.

“It’s my birthdays,” Akiko said again and Oikawa read the words on the first page.

_Sugawara Akiko 10.2._

And under it was a photo, an old photo, with younger Akiko, laughing with a man who looked eerily similar to Suga, and a small baby looking up at them in wonder.

”Koushi looks just like his father,” Akiko sighed, her finger sliding over the photo and the face of the man.

Oikawa turned to look at her. She had a small smile on her lips, and there was something sad in it.

“What was he like?” he asked, going back to get their cups of tea and then bringing them over to the island and setting one of them down in front of Akiko.

“Oh,” she perked up a little. “He was sweet and kind. He didn’t have a bad bone in his body or a smidge of malice in his soul.”

To Oikawa, that didn’t _exactly_ sound like Suga, but maybe he was a sum of two, instead of a copy of one.

“Koushi got his personality from him,” Akiko added after she had sipped her tea and sighed in approval that it was drinkable.

“I thought he got that from you,” Oikawa said thoughtfully, as he sat down next to her. “He’s really caring, like you.”

“No, no, it’s from his father. He was so impossibly kind and caring. If you’d have met him, you would be absolutely certain that Koushi definitely takes after his father.”

“You’re caring too.”

“That’s different,” Akiko disagreed with a smile. “I’m a mother so I take care of people, but there’s a much more selfish reason for my caring too. It sort of gives me a sense of purpose, I think.” She spoke frankly, and Oikawa didn’t feel like he had a ground to stand on anymore to argue with that.

“Yasuo, however, was so unselfish, you wouldn’t believe the stories about his acts and words unless you had witnessed them for yourself. He rarely got angry, and if he did, he never raised his voice at anyone. He’d try to hide it.”

Oikawa was reminded of Suga’s last week, of how angry he had been, and how he had tried to hide it.

“But I could always tell, I could see it,” Akiko continued. “So, I’d make him sit down and I’d sit with him and I’d caress his hair because that always calmed him down. Without saying a word or talking about what had happened, what had gotten him worked up, the anger would melt out of him like nothing had ever happened.”

Oikawa had a vivid and clear flashback to sitting on the couch and caressing Suga’s hair, to Suga admitting that he had been angry, and how that anger had disappeared out of him during that night.

“I’ve never seen Koushi get angry either.” Akiko’s voice sounded far off to Oikawa as he kept thinking back to caressing Suga’s hair whenever the man had been anxious and how it had helped to calm him down.

“Are you alright?” Akiko asked and Oikawa shook himself out of his ‘a-ha’ moment.

“I’m fine.” Oikawa flashed his most charming smile to ease Akiko’s worry. “How did you meet your husband?”

“Oh,” Akiko put down her cup and comber her hair behind her ear with her fingers. She leaned forward a little, like she was preparing for a race and for telling the most epic story that Oikawa would ever hear.

“We were set up to go on a date by our friends – my best friend was friends with his friend. I really only went as a favor for my friend, thinking that that’d be it. But when he asked at the end of the date if I’d want to see him again, I found myself saying yes. He was sweeter and kinder and cuter than I had anticipated.” Akiko stopped and sighed a happy sigh. “Koushi is so much like him.”

“Really?” Oikawa felt like he needed to ask, just to make sure that she’d keep talking, tell him more.

“Yes.” She nodded along with her answer. “Anyway, back to Yasuo and me.” Akiko cupped her chin in her hands and she had a faraway look in her eyes as she looked out the window when she continued. “Whenever we went on a date, I always wanted to see him again and again, and I realized that I was falling for him. Even despite his stupid name.”

Oikawa chuckled a little at the distaste in her voice when she said ‘name’.

Of course the story wasn’t epic or filled with heroic actions like Akiko’s mannerism had implied it to be as she started to tell the tale. It was just a pretty generic story of two young people meeting and falling in love. But for Akiko, the story must’ve been epic. It was probably one of the best things that had ever happened to her. It made her who she is – it gave her life and love, someone to miss and love, and a son.

“We had dated for about six months, and things were really serious when I found out that Yasuo had asked his friend to set us up because he thought I was pretty and cool and pretty cool.”

Akiko stopped again to sigh, and she brought her gaze back to Oikawa. “And he always went with my ideas and listened to whatever I wanted to talk about. He stole my heart all the way back on our first date, and I wanted him to keep it until the day that I died.” Akiko turned visibly sorrowful. “But he died first.”

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa said quietly.

“It’s fine, he died knowing he was loved,” Akiko said with a small smile. “We fell in love when we were young, and we got married, we had Koushi. We were happy in our own little family.”

Oikawa could almost visualize it all, and probably could have properly done that if Akiko hadn’t continued again after her little respite.

“I don’t like the saying ‘everything good comes to an end’, because that’s not true. In a way, every single thing does come to an end, but I like to think that they don’t disappear but instead change into something else. Nothing really ceases to exist – it just takes on a new form, meaning, emotion. Even though I had lost Yasuo, I still loved him. But it’s different to be in love with a memory of person, than with the actual person.  But it still gives me strength every day, even if it is in a slightly different way.”

“You’re a real romantic at heart, aren’t you?” Oikawa teased her a little. He couldn’t really wrap his mind around the fact that somehow their simple conversation about Suga’s father had turned into this philosophical pondering on Akiko’s part.

“Sometimes,” Akiko admitted and laughed. “I’m afraid I didn’t manage to give any of that to Koushi.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Oikawa said without thinking the repercussions of saying something like that so off-handedly to Suga’s mother of all people, especially since she seemed to be very aware of his fond feelings towards Suga.

“Really?” Akiko asked with interest, her eyes suddenly taking a sharp edge as she looked at him intently. “Has he done something romantic then?”

“Well, I...” Oikawa wasn’t sure all of sudden. He had been thinking about the snowflakes that Suga had given him as a Christmas present. But was it romantic? Maybe if they had been dating at the time, it could be described as ‘romantic’, but since they weren’t dating maybe it wasn’t? Oikawa didn’t know what to think of it anymore, how to interpret the gift.

Not knowing what to answer, Oikawa started to slightly blush. He felt silly thinking now that what Suga had done was romantic, when Suga probably hadn’t meant it as such. To switch the focus off of him, Oikawa cleared his throat, willing the blush to fade away before Akiko could notice it.

“Did you ever date anyone after he passed away?” he asked, knowing the answer already. If she still loved him...

“No,” Akiko shook her head.

“May I ask why?”

Akiko smiled at the politeness of his words and voice. “I never wanted to. He was the love of my life, still is.”

Oikawa wondered how that felt – to be in love with a person so thoroughly you couldn’t think of your life without that person in it. Had he ever loved anyone like that? Had he ever loved Iwaizumi like that? Would he ever love anyone like that, or would he ever be the recipient of such a love?

“What are you thinking Tooru?”

“Nothing.” Oikawa shook his head and sipped at this tea. He glanced at Akiko and saw her looking at him with knowing but gentle eyes, her smile matching it perfectly. “If Suga calls and asks for an intervention because his manager won’t let him leave the meeting, will you come with us in a suit and shades to get him out?” Oikawa thought he should turn their conversation into easier territory, into something  that didn’t hit quite so hard and close at his heart and core.

Akiko sat up straighter immediately, excited about the idea. “Definitely. You know I can bullshit anyone out of anything.”

Oikawa laughed at her answer. He didn’t doubt her words at all.

“Plus, I think it would be cool to look like a secret agent,” Akiko added with a smirk that made her look fifteen years younger. “That’s probably something everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime.”

Oikawa agreed with her wholeheartedly. “You would look really cool in a suit.”

“Of course I would,” Akiko laughed lightly. “I’m almost hoping for Koushi to call for a rescue.”

“Me too,” Oikawa agreed and finished his tea. “But in the meantime, tell me about this birthday.” He turned a page of the momentarily forgotten photo album and pointed to a photo that must’ve been taken the year after the first one.

Akiko laughed immediately, surprising Oikawa with it.

“That was a fun day,” Akiko said when her laughter turned into a fond smile. “I turned 25 and for the first time in my life I thought that I was old.”

“And that’s funny to you?” Oikawa’s voice was filled with incredulity. It didn’t sound that funny to him.

“No, of course not.” Akiko made an impatient and dismissive motion with her hand. “What made the birthday fun was Yasuo dragging me to all these activities and things that ‘young’ people do. I had lamented the whole week leading up to my birthday that I’m getting old and he had planned a whole day for us to be young. It was fun and ridiculous and the best day ever.” Akiko explained with a reminiscent air in her expression and voice.

“Koushi turned one this year,” Akiko said then, tapping at Suga’s baby face in the picture, and Oikawa was reminded of yesterday.

“Do you have baby pictures of Suga?”

“I do,” Akiko nodded. “Do you want to see them?”

“Yes.” Oikawa’s reply was quick and short and it made Akiko chuckle airily.

“Alright, I’ll bring them the next time that I visit.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa said sincerely. “Do you want more tea?”

“Please, thank you,” Akiko said in turn and pushed her empty cup closer to Oikawa. He got up with both of their cups and made his way to pour them more tea. He could hear Akiko turn the pages in the album softly and soft sound of happiness every now and then as he prepared the tea.

He was taking Akiko’s cup back to her when the front door opened. Oikawa turned his head to look at the newcomer and his smile turned soft when he recognized Suga’s tuft of hair.

“You’re home,” Oikawa said when he appeared into the living area.

Suga looked to him and a soft smile spread on his lips. “I’m home.”

“Koushi,” Akiko called then, standing up and Suga went to her to accept her hug.

Oikawa watched them hug in the way only a mother and a son could hug, and the scene made him smile.

“I was sure I would have to gather everyone on a very secret mission to come and get you,” Oikawa said when Akiko let go of Suga.

“I was this close to calling you,” Suga said, showing his index finger and thumb practically pressed together.

Oikawa chuckled and pulled another cup from the cupboard. “Do you want tea?”

“Sure, thanks,” Suga answered and sat down on the chair next to his mother that Oikawa had vacated.

“Koushi,” Akiko said then and put her hand on his shoulder. “I have something very important to tell you.”

“Okay,” Suga nodded and leaned forward on his arms on the island to look like he was paying even more attention to her. “Tell me.”

Akiko took a deep breath like she was truly preparing to say something that was difficult and Oikawa smiled in advance. “I’m fifty now.”

Suga chuckled appropriately.

“When did that happen?” Akiko asked, still playing up the drama and her grievance.

When Oikawa brought Suga a cup of tea as well, he noticed the flash of an impish grin on Suga’s face before it disappeared. He knew what was coming and he leaned his elbows and arms on the island in anticipation.

“Wait,” Suga said slowly, exaggerating the alarm in his voice. “You’re fifty? You’ve been telling me that you’re twenty-five for years,” he accused with the most horrified expression he could fake.

A smile grew on his mother’s lips.

“Have you been lying to me my whole life?” Suga probably tried to sound as scandalized as he could. Akiko laughed fondly and her shoulders shook a little at the force of trying to contain it.

Suga turned to look at Oikawa then, still looking horrified over the ‘new’ piece of information. “Oikawa, my whole life has been a lie.”

Oikawa burst into loud laughter and he covered his mouth with his hand.

 

...

 

A couple of days later, Oikawa still missed Akiko’s warm presence. The dinner on her birthday had been fun, but a smaller affair than the last time she had visited. Only Suga’s closest friends had come – Daichi, Asahi, Nishinoya and Tanaka. And the next morning she had left, too soon, but with promises that’d she’d be back.

One good thing from her visit still remained in their apartment – their fridge was filled with her cooking. No one had come to steal any of it, thanks to the inexplicable absence of their neighbors. Oikawa was already looking forward to heating some of the leftovers for his breakfast, but he needed to put some clothes on first.

And he was starting to grow a little frustrated, because for the life of him, he couldn’t find any socks. They had steadily been disappearing, each sock and every pair as mysteriously as the ones before. He had searched through his closet two times already, only finding the one pair of grey socks that really didn’t go well with his dark blue jeans.

Giving up his mission with a sigh when that kept being the one and only pair he could find, he settled for a pair of wool socks until he found something else. He then started to look for something with long sleeves – it was winter and it was cold, even inside their apartment. He had already thought about wearing his favorite hoodie, but apparently that had disappeared into thin air too. Where were all his clothes?

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa called, digging through his hamper now. He was sure it wouldn’t be there. He didn’t have any recollection of throwing it into the laundry, but he wasn’t beyond checking just to be sure. He wouldn’t admit to anyone that he was unsure about his own memory, though, and this would have to remain a secret between you and him. “Have you seen my black hoodie with the constellations on it?”

“Yes,” came Suga’s answer from the kitchen, or maybe the living room.

Oikawa dumped the clothes he had dug out of his hamper back into it. “Where?”

“I’m wearing it.”

Oikawa stilled. “You’re – ?”

_What?_

Oikawa straightened slowly from his crouch. Suga was wearing his hoodie? His favorite hoodie? He could barely believe it as he made his way out of his room, walking carefully, as if he was afraid of disturbing the very air around him. What if he had heard wrong? What if Suga wasn’t wearing his hoodie?  He really wanted to see Suga wear it and he was afraid that everything happening right then was a dream and that it would end if he made one false move.

But it was true.

Oikawa stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, just appreciating how Suga looked. The hoodie fit Suga almost perfectly. It was just a tad on the big side, but it looked perfect on him. Oikawa never wanted to get his favorite hoodie back if it meant that he could see Suga in it more often. Even if it meant that he wouldn’t be able to function properly ever again.

Every little detail he had envisioned of Suga wearing his hoodie was true and even more so. If he had been almost disturbed out of his mind seeing Suga in his sweater the first time after he had witnessed Suga drunk, that was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. He was excited, happy, thrilled and a little turned on all at the same time. He could feel every feeling and emotion swirl inside him, ignite every molecule in his body. How was it even possible for such an ordinary seeming vision to make him feel like that? And yet, there was no denying it.

Oikawa moved across the kitchen, suddenly feeling like he was floating instead of walking, trying to act and look natural as if he was going to sit by the island, aka their unofficial breakfast spot.

“Sorry, I’ll give it back,” Suga said when he noticed Oikawa and met his eyes with a sheepish expression. He started to take the hoodie off, but Oikawa hurried to stop him.

“No, keep it on,” he said, taking a hold of Suga’s arms so he couldn’t remove the hoodie.

“Are you sure?” Suga asked, his eyes peeking from the neckline.

“Yes, keep it on. It’s fine.” Oikawa nodded with a pleased smile and let go off Suga, who promptly put the hoodie properly back on with a roll of his shoulders and a tilt of his head. “Just out of curiosity, why were you wearing it?”

“I was cold and it was the closest thing I saw. It was on the back of a kitchen chair.” Suga explained and pointed towards one of the chairs in question. Oikawa was vaguely reminded that he had left the hoodie there last night, or maybe the night before that. He had picked up a habit of leaving his clothes here and there all over their apartment and he wasn’t in a hurry to learn out of it. Not now that Suga apparently had started to wear whatever he saw first.

“I’m sorry, I’ll ask next time,” Suga said with an apologetic smile.

“Really, it’s fine Suga-chan.” Oikawa smiled back, to assure him that it was fine. “You don’t need to ask.” He was pleased that Suga had felt comfortable enough to wear his clothes.    

“I have another question as well,” Oikawa started when he made his way to pour himself a cup of coffee. He was getting a semblance of normalcy back into his actions and thoughts, his back turned to Suga. “Have you seen any of my socks? Are you borrowing them too?”

“Your socks?” Suga asked curiously and Oikawa turned around to look at him, leaning back against the counter in front of the coffee maker.

“Yeah, I only found one pair and I know I have more of them.” Oikawa explained, sipping his coffee.

Suga eyes dropped to look at the foot that Oikawa was wiggling around in the air to showcase his lack of socks, although he was wearing wool socks, and then back up again. “I might know where some of them are,” Suga said slowly. “But I didn’t borrow any of them.”

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded. “Where are they?” Oikawa asked kindly, actively trying not to lose his head looking at Suga, appreciating the way he looked wearing the hoodie. Was it possible that it looked better on Suga than it did on him?

“You know how you sometimes just leave them on the floor?” Suga asked cryptically. “Even though you sometimes clean obsessively, you always leave your socks on the floor all over the apartment like you’re trying to plant seeds and maybe a sock tree will sprout up.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa chuckled. “What of it?”

“A pair or two might have been eaten by the vacuum.” Suga admitted carefully, biting his bottom lip and looking up at Oikawa under his brows.

“What?” Oikawa laughed out because it sounded ridiculous.

“I know I could have dug them out whenever I noticed the sound of the vacuum eating a sock, but that’s disgusting and I don’t do that.”

Oikawa let out a small burst of laughter at Suga’s admittance and disgusted expression. His nose was scrunched so adorably, and his lips were shaped in clear distaste but it was all too cute and on top of everything he was wearing Oikawa’s hoodie, so he really couldn’t be mad at him for vacuuming his socks.

“You owe me a pair for every sock you’ve vacuumed,” Oikawa said when he calmed down.

“I know, I’ll buy you socks,” Suga complied with him.

“And I want the most expensive and softest socks you can find.” Oikawa thought he could request.

“Do you know how much that’s going to cost?” Suga asked incredulously.

“Hey, you’re an artist right? And kind of a famous one. I’m sure the cost of a few pairs of socks won’t even make a dent on your bank account.”

“Fine, the most expensive and softest socks I can find,” Suga agreed with a sigh and Oikawa felt victorious. In all honesty, he wasn’t too annoyed that he had lost some of his socks, but he was glad he could get something better out of it.

“But they all will be in various shades of pink and they all will have polka dots in them.” Suga added with a cheeky grin.

Oikawa ducked his chin down to hide his smile and focused on the caramel brown color of his coffee. He heard Suga move around him in the kitchen, doing this and that, preparing their breakfast. Oikawa could’ve helped, if had been able to move at all. But even a fleeting glance at Suga caused his heartbeat to kick up its pace and he needed to take deep breaths to calm his heart down.

He had thought that he was over the initial surprise and shock of seeing Suga wearing his clothes, but it had only taken a step back and now struck at him again with full force.  

He looked up again when his breathing evened out back to normal, when he didn’t feel like he needed to take in deep breaths to calm down. It was very domestic, seeing Suga bustle about in their kitchen, in the soft and white morning light that shone in through the window. And now that Oikawa could breathe again, he couldn’t look away from Suga.

“Suga-chan,” he said softly and Suga turned to look at him with bright eyes and a small smile on his lips. Oikawa swore his heart literally skipped several beats.

“What?”

Oikawa took a short breath and let it out through his nose, in preparation because, well, now or never.

Akiko had told him to tell Suga. So had a lot of his friends, but it was Akiko’s words that had made the biggest impact on Oikawa. She basically commanded him only two days ago to finally reveal his feelings. It hadn’t felt like that then, but later on when Oikawa had thought back to their conversation, he got the lingering sense that he had almost been threatened – as in, do this or I’ll shoot you in the foot.

 

...

 

“Tooru?”

Oikawa looked up from his laptop towards his door and saw Akiko standing there.

“Dinner’s ready soon,” she continued when she seemed to think that she had his attention.

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” Oikawa said and focused back on his work.

“Are you alright, dear?” Akiko asked a moment later, surprising Oikawa. He had assumed that she had left already.

“I’m fine,” Oikawa smiled at her. He really was fine. Just a little stressed but that was nothing new. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Akiko said as she stepped inside his room and closed the door after her.

Oikawa lowered his laptop screen, already knowing from her behavior that Akiko had something important she wanted to talk about and he wanted to give her his full attention.

“You’ve been quiet ever since Koushi came home. All alone in your room,” Akiko added with a concerned, but ultimately gentle look in her eyes. Oikawa loved that he always felt cared about around her.

“I’ve just tried to focus on this,” Oikawa gestured towards his laptop.

“Is that all?” Akiko asked with her sharp and inquisitive eyes trained on Oikawa.

“Yes,” Oikawa nodded. “I’m almost done with it, and kind of impatient about it.”

“That’s good,” Akiko smiled like she was proud. “We’re definitely having that party when you’re holding your participation certificate.”

Oikawa let out a surprised laugh. “A participation certificate?”

“You’ve joined this grueling event that has lasted for six years.”

“Seven in my case,” Oikawa cut in, averting his eyes away.

“Seven years,” Akiko corrected herself immediately, her voice fond. “And when you finish, like you’d finish any competition or a happening, you’re given a piece of paper that’s practically all your hard work has earned you.” She spoke patiently, explaining her view maturely and like it should have been obvious. “So, a participation certificate.”

Oikawa chuckled lightly. That was one way to look at it. He, however, preferred to focus on what that title written on the piece paper could give him – a job, a future.

“But that’s not what I came to talk to you about,” Akiko said then, at once turning serious. How she was able to switch from one mood to another in a blink of an eye was a mystery to Oikawa, but there was no denying that it did make their conversations interesting. You never knew what would come out of her mouth, or how, and Oikawa loved that she simultaneously made him feel at ease, but standing on eggshells too, in a good way.

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded, turning away from her for a second to save his work and closing his laptop screen properly. He knew that once she had said her piece, the dinner would be ready. “What is it?” he asked when he turned back to look at Akiko.

“Why haven’t you told Koushi that you like him yet?”

Oikawa pursed his lips in thought. Why hadn’t he told Suga?

Easy answer: because he was scared. But he couldn’t admit that to Akiko.

“You should tell him soon, dear.” Akiko raised her eyebrows meaningfully. And Oikawa knew that he should tell him. He really should. But...

“Why do you want us to be together so badly?” He wanted to know. Wasn’t it a little weird that Suga’s mother was so up and all over Suga’s possible relationships?

“Because I think you’d be perfect together.” Akiko smiled at the obviousness of her answer. “And I don’t want you to miss your chance like Daichi did,” she added, leveling Oikawa with a serious look again.

“What?” Oikawa was confused. “Daichi?”

“Yes, he was in love with Koushi.”

“I – “ Oikawa was speechless.

Daichi was in love with Suga? Since when? For how long? Was he still in love with Suga, but hiding it?

Oikawa was surprised when Akiko started to answer his questions. He was sure he had just thought them quietly in his head, but apparently he had said them out loud.

“It was back when they were in high school. Daichi was so in love with my Koushi,” Akiko sighed quietly, reminiscing. “But of course Koushi had no idea.”

How could Suga not know? He was best friends with Daichi. Wanting to know more, Oikawa instinctively leaned forward, with his hands on the edge of the chair next to his thighs.

Akiko continued without any prompt to do so. “After high school when they went to study different things in different places, they didn’t see each other as much as they used to, so I think Daichi got over it. And he met Hajime, so everything turned out well.”

“Does Suga know that Daichi was in love with him?” Oikawa asked in a hush. It was important for him to know this. It could change everything he had learned about Suga and Daichi’s dynamic and friendship and shed a different light on it.

“I really don’t think so,” Akiko answered and shook her head. “I think Koushi would’ve said something if he’d come to find that out.”

“How did you know?”

“I’m smart,” Akiko stated the fact with a smile. “And Daichi used to look at Koushi the same way that you do now. That’s how I knew you like him.”

Oikawa was silent for a spell, absorbing the information and shortly mulling it over.

“I’m telling you to tell Koushi, because he won’t notice it on his own. Yes, he is smart too, and sometimes very intuitive, especially when it comes to other people and their feelings. But he can be clueless when it comes to someone actually _liking_ or _loving_ him. If you’re hoping for him to realize or guess that you like him, I can swear that it’s not going to happen.”

Oikawa let out a weary sigh. Even if he told Suga, there was no guarantee that Suga would respond to his feelings. Even if Suga sometimes exhibited hints and signs that maybe, just _maybe¸_ he might feel the same way.

“You have to tell him,” Akiko added for good measure. “I understand that you’re worried that he doesn’t like you, but you won’t know for certain until you’re honest about your own feelings to him. And that’s a chance that you just have to take. It’s true about anything that has to do with making choices and decisions in life. For example, when you applied to university, there was a chance that you’d be rejected. I know it’s a lot scarier when it’s about your heart and not just a silly place to study at, but technically it’s the same. And sometimes we get lucky with our chances, because we’ve worked so hard to achieve something.”

The whole time she talked, Oikawa listened raptly. He knew she was right, and he knew that she knew she was right. It was in her assertive tone of voice, even if it was a little hushed so Suga wouldn’t accidentally overhear their conversation.

“Just think over what I told you,” Akiko said when she stood up. “I really don’t want you to miss your chance to be loved.”

Oikawa looked up at her. “Why are you so sure that Suga likes me back?”

“Because he does,” Akiko smiled softly.

Oikawa wasn’t as convinced as she was, but it did confirm the very feeling deep inside him, in his very core, that Suga maybe liked him too.

“Then why aren’t you telling him to tell me he likes me?” Oikawa demanded to know.

“I’m not going to meddle in my son’s love life. I’m not that kind of mother.” Akiko shook her head like she couldn’t believe Oikawa had even suggested it.

“Then, what do you call this?” Oikawa made a circling motion in the air with his finger, indicating their conversation about _his_ feelings towards Suga and urging _him_ to reveal them.

“Looking out for your best interests,” Akiko replied smoothly with a lazy smile and Oikawa made a small scoffing sound.

“Come on, I bet food’s ready by now,” Akiko said then and beckoned Oikawa to follow her.

 

...

 

Oikawa looked at Suga who was waiting for him to continue.

“I like you,” he finally admitted. But he didn’t feel the relief he had been expecting. There was no excited flurry or anxious jittering when he waited for Suga’s response.

There was the briefest moment when Suga just looked at him vacantly, like he was frozen in place, before his smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it. “You’re kind of fun too,” he stated simply then.

Which was a bit of a letdown.

Maybe that was why his admittance had felt so flat. Maybe he didn’t say it right and Suga hadn’t taken his words as he had meant them. But at least he wasn’t freaked out or laughing in his face. Maybe he had suspected Oikawa to like him, as a friend and roommate, and the reveal of it wasn’t such a big deal. If only he knew that Oikawa felt so much more and deeply towards him.

There was another silver lining in the situation too. At least this was a step towards the right direction. This was reassurance, that when Suga would take his words seriously, fully understanding the meaning behind them, he wouldn’t run for the hills like Oikawa sometimes feared he might do.

And that was enough for now. Now Suga knew, kind of.

 _Yes,_ Oikawa decided as he sipped his coffee. _That was enough._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT BATMAN! Someone needs to talk me out of writing 16 000 word chapters, because... URGH! The editing! And to make it all make sense! 
> 
> Oh, guess who found an old Pong this summer? Yep! Couldn't play it though.  
> I don't think it's possible to actually hook the game up to a normal flatscreen tv, so I applied some artistic liberties at that part. 
> 
> Okay, I'm just going to sprawl on the floor now and cry if that's okay. I listened to the Like Crazy soundtrack the whole time that I wrote this chapter and beautiful music makes me emotional ^^
> 
> P.S. Oikawa doesn't mention Suga's little kiss on his shoulder, and I didn't write it anywhere in Oikawa's POV because he didn't notice it. In case you were wondering. 
> 
> to be continued: (next week! I promise!)  
> "In other news, Suga is adorable and it's killing me." 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Was anyone disappointed by the ending?


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I set myself a goal of keeping this chapter under five thousand words when I started writing. I failed. 
> 
> Once again, the biggest thank you to arc_kakusei for the help!

 

 

“Get out.”

Suga whipped his head towards the front door when he heard the harshness in Oikawa’s voice. He had a storm in his eyes as he practically stomped towards the hallway.

“What?” Kuroo asked with surprise, probably from being addressed so disrespectfully. Suga had to admit that he could sympathize with the surprise Kuroo was exhibiting. Oikawa was rarely – no, never – that rude.

“I have to study. Get out,” Oikawa repeated, disappearing down the hallway.

“Oikawa,” Suga reprimanded him.

“Get out,” Oikawa said one final time, and a few seconds later, Suga heard a door close with a forced and loud bang.

“I better go,” Kuroo said, springing up from the armchair. “I’ll see you later.”

Suga watched regretfully as Kuroo headed towards the front door. He had been looking forward to spending some time with his friend. He felt like the two of them hadn’t done that for weeks.

“Bye,” Suga sighed and got up as well. He could’ve have gone _with_ Kuroo, but he knew, just like Kuroo probably did, that Oikawa needed him more at the moment.

It had become an unspoken habit of sorts in their apartment – whenever Oikawa or Suga was feeling down, or anxious or frustrated, the other would be there for them to lean on – to just sit quietly or to talk to, whatever was needed.

They never discussed it. Everything had just progressed to it. And to be completely honest, Suga liked it. Not the part where he sometimes felt like Oikawa felt the need to drop everything for him just to tend to some hair caressing. But he did like the closeness it had brought between them. And his crushing-on-Oikawa-ass was loving it whenever Oikawa was in a huff like he had been when he came home.

Suga had a feeling that their neighbors had noticed it, sometimes probably even talked about it. For, every time that he or Oikawa needed each other, or had been tending to each other’s bad moods, he could see and hear the hushed whispers traded between lowered heads. He wasn’t sure if he minded, but still felt like maybe he should.

That wasn’t important now.

Not when he entered Oikawa’s room without knocking.

As Suga had predicted in his mind, he found Oikawa lying down on his stomach on his bed, his face pushed into a pillow. Suga knew he had just interrupted a very impressive groan smothered against said pillow.

“Oikawa?” Suga asked softly, because Oikawa really seemed like he needed someone to listen to him about whatever was making him so moody.

“Go away, Suga-chan,” came Oikawa’s muffled response.

Suga’s heart softened at the desperate plea in Oikawa’s voice. He knew he couldn’t do what Oikawa asked him to do.

 _I can do this,_ Suga convinced himself and, with a soft sigh, he went to sit on the edge of Oikawa’s bed.

 _I can do this without getting caught up in the moment,_ Suga kept telling himself as he moved closer, next to Oikawa’s lying body, and rested his upper body on Oikawa’s back, his chin just reaching to rest on Oikawa’s shoulder. He could feel how warm Oikawa was even through two layers of clothing. He wasn’t feeling cold at the moment, but somehow Oikawa always felt warm against him.

“Bad day?” Suga asked quietly, his hands gently playing with the hair at the back of Oikawa’s neck, twirling it around his fingers.

Oikawa sighed wearily and turned his head to talk. “I hate school. I’m going to fail and I’m going to have to drop out.”

“Why?” Suga asked gently.

“My dissertation isn’t good enough.”

“How could you know that? Or even think that?” Suga kept speaking in a soft voice, trying to soothe Oikawa with his tone.

“One of my professors got a peek at what I’d written and said he didn’t agree with it.”

No wonder Oikawa was in a foul mood, Suga thought. His fingers stopped their twirling for a short moment. He knew how hard Oikawa had worked on finishing his school work and everything that came with it, and it must’ve been a hit to his ego and confidence for a professor to imply that his work wasn’t good enough.

“He said that if it was an essay he wouldn’t even give it a C,” Oikawa said bitterly.

“That’s not a fail,” Suga argued immediately in a tone that let Oikawa know he was ready to disagree with such thoughts and would fight Oikawa, or anyone for that matter who thought that Oikawa was a failure at something, if he had to.

“It’s not good enough.”

“It’s not an essay either.” Suga kept reasoning in an assertive but gentle tone.  

“I still feel like I’ve failed.” Oikawa’s admission surprised Suga and he had to blink repeatedly in quick succession to clear the surprise away.  Oikawa didn’t usually show or voice his insecurities like this - at least, not according to Iwaizumi. But this wasn’t the first time Oikawa had told Suga what was bothering him either. It would be a fair assessment to say that Suga had become a self-proclaimed pro at dealing with it by now. Even so, it still managed to surprise Suga when that happened. It was a rare occurrence.

Suga pressed his nose to Oikawa’s neck for a second to comfort him. Oikawa’s scent made Suga’s heart kick and jump and hit at his chest almost violently and he quickly propped his chin on his hand that was resting on Oikawa’s shoulder blade to talk.

“You’re an overachiever,” he stated calmly and smiled when he heard Oikawa’s small whine. “But you can’t please every professor all the time with your essays, especially if they don’t share your opinion on the subject matter.”

The room fell silent as Suga waited for Oikawa’s reply. It didn’t take long, but long enough for Suga to wonder if Oikawa had even listened to him.

“I guess you’re right,” Oikawa agreed quietly though, easing Suga’s worry. He smiled, pleased that he was able to convince Oikawa to feel at least a little better.

“He is a stupid professor,” Oikawa added then as an afterthought and Suga laughed softly.

“He’s not even your advisor on the dissertation, is he?” Suga asked. He knew that Oikawa kind of liked, and really respected, his advisor.

“He isn’t.”

“Good.” Suga made a small nod against Oikawa’s back. “Do you need anything? To eat or drink?” he asked then, preparing to get up now that Oikawa seemed to be getting over his bout of anger.

“Can you stay like that?” Oikawa asked, looking over his shoulder at Suga for the first time.

“Sure.” Suga smiled with his reply and changed his position just a little so he was more comfortable, partly lying on Oikawa’s back. “Tell me when you want me to move.”

Oikawa didn’t respond. But he took Suga’s hand into his and Suga felt him sigh, this time softly and slowly letting the air out of his lungs like he was trying to savor a feeling.

Suga knew it had been dangerous to get this close to Oikawa, to keep tending to him like this. It turned him soft towards Oikawa, made him want to tend to his every wound, physical and emotional, and it could lead into two possible scenarios. Either Oikawa would realize that Suga was seriously crushing on him, or it could turn Suga’s crush into full-on pining. And Suga knew from experience that the latter would hurt and make him miserable.  

“You’re amazing, Suga-chan,” Oikawa whispered, almost reverently.

Suga closed his eyes hearing the praise and bit his lower lip to hide his smile. Oikawa kept saying such things to him so offhandedly it amazed him, and always managed to turn his insides to jelly and cause thrilling sensations in his toes. It wasn’t just the words that Oikawa used, but the way he said them.

He was reminded of Oikawa’s – was it a confession? less than a week ago. Suga wasn’t sure what to think of it, but he could still hear “I like you,” said in Oikawa’s voice in his head. First he had thought nothing of it, rationalizing that Oikawa meant that he liked that Suga was fun to be around, that he enjoyed Suga’s company and friendship.

Suga could recall another moment too, and he could swear that he had heard those exact same words in Oikawa’s voice before too.

He had been so sure it had only been a dream. But maybe it wasn’t?

He could vaguely remember Oikawa coming to his bed, wrapping his arm around him and saying something about his mother being right and that he liked him. Suga had been so sure it had been a dream. And he had been so happy the next morning when he woke up, sleeping in for the first time in forever.

Suga felt Oikawa take a deep breath, the expanding of his lungs moving his upper body with Suga rising and falling a little with it. Oikawa moved his hand a little, his fingers slipping in between Suga’s and curling around them.

 _Maybe it hadn’t been a dream,_ Suga thought.

But he couldn’t let himself be swayed by the words, he couldn’t let himself slip into thinking that maybe Oikawa not only thought of him so highly, but also maybe possibly kind of liked him as well. He needed to diffuse the fondness that had been growing and spreading to every extremity in his body ever since he had sat down on Oikawa’s bed. It could have unexpected and unwanted consequences if he let it take him over fully, never knowing what would come out of his mouth or how he might act.

So, he decided to tease Oikawa, fooling himself into thinking that that would hide his crush, because that’s what everyone does when they like someone, don’t they? Pulling on pigtails and whatnot.

“You’re pretty great too, when you’re not being you,” Suga said with cheekiness in his voice.

Oikawa gave an indignant gasp. “Mean, Suga-chan.”

Suga chuckled quietly and turned somber then, remembering where he was, what he had been thinking just a moment ago. For some reason, Oikawa’s words just wouldn’t leave him. “Are you feeling better?”

“Not yet.” Oikawa held Suga’s hand a little tighter. “Stay.”

Suga closed his eyes and pressed his nose against Oikawa’s shirt, trying his hardest _not_ to take a deep inhale. He failed of course, and his heart skipped a beat again when Oikawa’s scent filled his nose and his lungs.

And he stayed.

 

…

 

Suga had work to do, so to speak. He had photos to upload from his camera to his laptop, so he could send a couple of them for Takeda, who was in charge of getting them printed and framed and delivered to Kiyoko’s gallery. Suga had been apprehensive of letting go of his control, but ultimately Takeda had worn him down. To be honest, Suga wasn’t too upset about it. It did free him from some stress. But he still made sure to add copious instructions to his emails to Takeda.

The only problem, if it could be called a problem, was that Oikawa wouldn’t let him do any of that. He was still holding onto Suga’s hand, asking him to stay. It was endearing how Oikawa kept clinging onto him, and Suga didn’t have the heart, or the want, to deny him.

But since he had ‘a deadline’ of sorts, he had to be strong against all wants of staying close to Oikawa. In the end, they had come to a compromise – Suga could go and get his laptop and camera, but he needed to come back.

Fast forwarding ten minutes, and Suga was sitting on Oikawa’s bed, his legs crossed in front of him while he hunched in front of his laptop. Oikawa was lying down beside Suga, his head resting on Suga’s thigh. It wasn’t unusual for them to be close and right next to each other, so Suga didn’t think anything of it when he felt the weight of Oikawa’s head settle down on his thigh.  

Oikawa fiddled with Suga’s camera while their slow internet connection tried to send the email Suga had written to Takeda.

“Our internet connection sucks,” Oikawa commented quietly, and from the angle and position of Oikawa’s head, Suga could feel how he was looking at the laptop screen, probably following the slowly turning wheel with his eyes too.

“It’s the building’s connection actually and it’s included in our rent,” Suga told him. “We could get a better, faster connection if we wanted to pay for it.”

“We should,” Oikawa stated immediately, point blank.

“What is it with the youth and speed, trying to get everywhere in such a hurry?” Suga joked, a rasp in his voice, trying to imitate an old person. Oikawa chuckled in response and sat up. “And the connection’s fine usually, it’s just struggling with the large files.”

“We still need to get a faster internet connection,” Oikawa pressed on.

And Suga didn’t have anything against it. “Sure, if you want to.” He shrugged, just as the email was sent. He was about to close his laptop, his ‘work’ now done, but Oikawa’s hand stopped him.

“Wait,” Oikawa said. “Can we watch a movie?”

“Don’t you need to obsess over your dissertation?” Suga asked, studying Oikawa’s expression. All the earlier stress and worry about his work not being good enough seemed to be gone.

“No, not today.” Oikawa shook his head, and turned Suga’s laptop towards him.

Suga waited for a moment for the possibility that Oikawa would change his mind. But nothing happened. “Are you sure you want to watch a movie on my laptop?” Suga wanted to make sure when Oikawa had already opened Netflix. “We could go to the living room.”

“No way.” Oikawa shook his head again. “I’m not getting up from this bed today.” He seemed adamant, and Suga was a weak man who was ready to go along with almost anything with him.

“Okay,” Suga agreed and took a deep breath. He mentally prepared to spend the rest of the day in Oikawa’s bedroom, within close proximity to Oikawa. “But I need food.” Suga moved to the edge of the bed and stood up. “Do you want something?”

“Bring everything.” Oikawa nodded, focused on perusing the site for something to watch. “Do you have movie preferences?” he asked when Suga was about to slip out of his room.

“I’m fine with anything.” Suga waved his hand dismissively.

 

...

 

 

“I had a dream about aliens last night,” Oikawa said, all of a sudden reminded about it.  

The movie he had chosen had already ended, the end credits rolling on the screen, neither of them paying much attention to it as they lay and sat on his bed, only centimeters away from each other, not quite touching, but not far enough for it to feel like they were apart either.

“Yeah?” Suga turned his head to look at him. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

Oikawa was glad that he had asked. “Well,” he started slowly, “I was abducted.”

“Of course.” Suga nodded along.

“And then something happened that I’m a little fuzzy about, but they made me their king.”

Suga snickered. “Of course they did.”

“Right?” Oikawa sat up straighter. “It was like that scene in Return of the Jedi where the Ewoks think that C-3PO is their god,” he described, raising his arms along with it.

Suga kept snickering, the sound of it almost turning into laughing. “Then what happened?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Suga asked incredulously. “Sounds a little disappointing.”

“But it was glorious up until that point,” Oikawa said solemnly.

“I believe you,” Suga said softly and Oikawa wanted to be lulled into sleep with that voice. It didn’t really matter what Suga said, as long as he said it in that feather-soft voice that made Oikawa feel like his skin was touched with the lightest feather, soothing and tender.

“We should make up our own alien language,” Oikawa said then, getting the idea out of nowhere. He had wanted to make up an alien language for years, but never had admitted that to anyone. Something about Suga made him feel safe enough to admit it now, even though it was a silly request and want.

“Because we’re not weird enough yet?” Suga asked sarcastically and Oikawa let out a surprised yet delighted laugh.

“We’re not weird!” Oikawa disagreed.

“Why do you want to come up with an alien language?”

“Because it’ll be fun,” Oikawa answered straightaway. “Come on, let’s do it.”

Suga seemed to consider it, and Oikawa waited patiently.

Sort of.

He might’ve tried to speed up Suga’s processing and decision making by impatiently and lightly tugging on Suga’s shirt hem.

“Do you already have some alien words in mind?” Suga asked then, and Oikawa’s face broke out in a happy smile.

“Norppa,” Oikawa said with a single nod, still holding onto Suga’s shirt, but not tugging on it anymore.

“And what does that mean?” Suga asked, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes bright.

Oikawa shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Suga laughed a little, and Oikawa didn’t want him to stop. He wanted to hear Suga’s laughter more, so he came up with various other words that sounded funny to him.

“Or joki, laulu, ilo,” Oikawa listed enthusiastically. ”Sisu, kuu, puro. And they could mean anything,” he added then, reveling in hearing Suga’s laughter. “Anything we want them to.”

“You’re really weird.” Suga hiccupped with laughter. And Oikawa really wanted to lean forward and kiss him. Because he just _really_ wanted to.

But he couldn’t. Not yet.

After his botched confession, Oikawa had been careful with his words with Suga, thinking through what he said and how Suga might interpret it. But that didn’t mean that he kept himself away from Suga by any means. If anything, he had sought Suga out more actively.

And he was beyond pleased and happy that Suga had come to him when he came home. He was happy that Suga had stayed when he had asked, and didn’t shy or pull away from him.

“Yeah, but you like that I’m weird,” Oikawa said confidently. Because he had a feeling that maybe Suga liked him too, but maybe didn’t realize it himself yet - ‘maybe’ being the operative word here.

“Sure, you’re fun.” Suga made a half-hearted shrug.

There it was again - “you’re fun”.

Oikawa hid his disappointed sigh as he lay down on his back and he studied the ceiling as he thought.

It had been a letdown to hear the words from Suga then, and it still felt lukewarm at best. It just wasn’t enough, because Oikawa wanted Suga to see him as something more than just ‘fun’. But, if that was all Suga could see him as now, he’d take it. There was always a chance for more.

“Are you okay?” Suga asked with an edge of concern in his voice after a long moment of silence.

Oikawa turned his head to the side to see him. “I’m fine.” He smiled reassuringly. “Why?”

“You just went quiet so suddenly,” Suga explained, still sounding a little worried. His eyebrows were tilted upwards as he looked at Oikawa.

Oikawa’s fingers twitched with the want to smooth the furrow down and he instinctively flexed his hands and then rested them against his downy comforter that had become rumpled and wrinkled with their moving and shifting on it.

“I was just thinking of more about the alien language,” Oikawa fibbed. He didn’t like doing it, but he didn’t want to admit what he had been thinking about. At least not to Suga. Not yet. He wondered if he could talk to someone else about it though. Maybe they could help him in figuring out what had gone wrong.

Initially he had been okay, just okay, that Suga hadn’t gotten what he had tried to tell him. Because, the more time he spent with Suga, the more he needed Suga to know just how much he liked him. He wanted Suga to understand how important he was to him. The sweeter Suga was to him, the more Oikawa craved to respond in kind with kisses and hugs and touches.

“Okay, why don’t you keep doing that then,” Suga said and Oikawa saw him drag the laptop closer to him. “And I’ll find us another movie to watch.” Suga spoke, already scrolling through hundreds of movies.

Oikawa observed Suga for a moment, the way he looked while focused on his task. And Suga always looked like it whenever he was doing something – almost lost in his own thoughts, but not quite, an intent look in his eyes as he did his thing.

Oikawa tore his eyes away from Suga when he started to feel himself turn softer and softer for the man, and it took more and more effort for him to do so with every passing minute he spent with him. He tried to think of something else so he wouldn’t pull Suga against him and keep holding onto him. For some reason, actions were easier for Oikawa than words were. He could easily see himself doing something to show Suga that he liked him, instead of just saying it.

His eyes fixed on Suga’s camera then, forgotten on the bed when they had settled comfortably to watch the first movie. He reached for it and inspected it, wondering if it was new. A replacement for the one that Oikawa suspected Suga had broken?

And he got an idea.

He lifted the camera up and looked through the viewfinder, framing Suga in the middle of it. He waited for a second, for the perfect moment, and snapped a photo.

Suga looked up to him when he heard the sound the shutter made. “Did you just take a photo of me?” he asked in surprise and Oikawa lowered the camera to see how the photo came out.

“Yes,” Oikawa answered like it wasn’t a big deal, because it wasn’t. “Want to see it?” he asked when he found that the photo he had taken was, in fact, perfect. Because of course it was.

“Yes,” Suga answered, sitting up straighter and extending his hand towards Oikawa, palm up for his camera. “I need to delete it.”

Oikawa was about to give the camera to Suga, but quickly brought it back against his chest, as if it was a baby bird that needed guarding from malicious evil monsters.  “Delete it? Why would you delete it?”

Suga dropped his hand to his lap. “Why would I keep it?” he countered.

“Because you’re very photogenic,” Oikawa explained the simple truth.

“What?” Suga seemed to think that Oikawa had lost his mind.

Seeing no other way around it, Oikawa got up on his knees on the bed and moved next to Suga, to show what he had meant with his compliment.

“See?” he asked as he showed Suga the photo. “Gorgeous.”

Suga looked down to see the photo, and then up to regard Oikawa. And Oikawa looked back, straight to Suga’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts through them.

Oikawa didn’t see anything out of ordinary there, and was surprised when Suga snatched his camera and quickly shot at Oikawa.

Oikawa was intrigued to see how the photo had turned out, because everything had happened literally in shutter speed, and leaned closer to Suga to see it.

“See?” Suga asked, tilting the camera in a way that allowed Oikawa to see. “Even more gorgeous.”

Oikawa smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.” But he was more amazed at Suga’s skills to frame him in the middle of the picture, perfectly capturing him in excellent light, with so little time and preparation to do so.  

“Thank you for the compliment as well, but I’m not keeping the photo of me.” Suga smiled a little. Oikawa noticed his fingers move on the little buttons.  

“Well, ultimately it’s up to you, but I think it’d be a waste to delete it,” he said and Suga stilled.

“A waste?” Suga looked at Oikawa, his eyes wavering a little.

“Are you fishing now?” Oikawa teased Suga. Because how could Suga ask that? Didn’t he realize how beautiful he was? How his kindness and devilishness shone out through him and made him simultaneously mysterious and adorable?

“No, I really want to know,” Suga said seriously.

“Okay, well, first off, I took the photo so of course it’s amazing,” Oikawa started and he could’ve sworn that Suga rolled his eyes. “Second, you look beautiful in it,” Oikawa stated the obvious, and before Suga could refute him like he could tell Suga was about to do, he added, “And third, don’t you want to stumble on it when you’re fifty and think back to what your life or you were like when the photo was taken?”

Suga studied Oikawa’s face, probably trying to find any falseness or a hint of lie there. When he didn’t seem to find any, he looked down to his camera, his gaze focusing on the photo.

Oikawa hoped Suga believed him, and was ready to take the camera away from Suga if he saw Suga’s fingers move to deleting the photo. But he didn’t need to do so, as Suga put the camera away like it was precious and delicate – as it of course was for Suga.

“Is E.T okay?” Suga asked then, turning the laptop so they could both see.

Oikawa voiced his assent. “I’m going to cry though, and you’re not allowed to make fun of me for that,” he warned Suga as he scooted to lean his back against the headboard.

“Don’t worry, I’ll cry with you.” Suga smiled reassuringly, and it was too beautiful and sincere. Oikawa would’ve groaned at the sight of it if he didn’t think it would prompt Suga to ask about it.

So, instead, Oikawa pulled Suga against his chest, to sit between his bent knees, and wrapped his arms around Suga’s shoulders to keep him close. Suga’s breathing seemed shallow at first, before it evened out to normal. Oikawa probably would have paid more attention to it if he wasn’t distracted by how perfect Suga felt there, like he had been molded to fit against Oikawa’s chest, in Oikawa’s arms.  

 

...

 

The next day Suga was sitting in Akaashi and Bokuto’s living room, in the older than old armchair that was faded and frayed, but still comfortable. Bokuto had gotten it from his parents when he had moved into the apartment, just like he had gotten almost every piece of furniture there. Sometimes Suga wondered why Bokuto and Akaashi hadn’t bought anything new that was ‘theirs’ when Akaashi had moved in with him, but he never asked. He suspected that Bokuto was attached to his furniture, stuff that had probably been in his childhood home, and Akaashi didn’t have the heart to tell him to get rid of them.

“That was our last session,” Akaashi said when their hour was up. “Thanks for doing this.”

“You’re welcome.” Suga smiled. “This was kind of fun.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to use any of this?”

“Definitely.” Akaashi nodded confidently. “But I have to ask you something. Off the record.”

“Okay,” Suga accepted and changed his position to sit with his legs crossed in front of him on the armchair, and leaned his head against his hand.

“How much of this was real and how much just stuff you came up with?”

“One hundred percent bullshit.” Suga answered honestly. Akaashi had given him a ‘problem’ that he was to talk about, to have come to him in seek of help, and Suga had come up with a character and a setting and everything around it to sell it better.

Akaashi nodded, seemingly satisfied with Suga’s answer. But his question had brought something to Suga’s mind that he kind of wanted to talk about, and he reasoned that since Akaashi was there, why not talk to him.  

“But, since we’re off the record, I do have something personal I’d like to talk about,” Suga said cautiously.

Akaashi nodded again, and put down his notes on the table. “Go ahead,” he prompted, leaning back against the back of the couch, bringing his legs up on the couch, mimicking the way Suga was sitting. The professionalism he had displayed only a moment ago drained out of him in seconds.

“Do you remember how I used to have a crush on Oikawa a while ago?”

“Yes,” Akaashi answered levelly. “Are you crushing on him again?”

“I think so.” Suga dared to smile a little, but it died quickly under the weight of his apprehension. “But it feels different too.”

Akaashi tilted his head a little, his eyes studying Suga. “Different how?”

“Somehow just _more.”_ Suga shifted a little against the back of the armchair, trying to find the words to describe the feeling. “It feels heavy, but not in a bad way, more like it’s light, uplifting.” He studied the patterns on the carpet as he spoke, following the symmetrical lines over and over again with his eyes. “It’s like I’m under water and waves of affection keep hitting me again and again with every touch and look and moment we share.”

Suga sighed quietly, recalling the way Oikawa had slid his fingers between his and held on tightly. “Sometimes I just seize with how much I want him. And Oikawa keeps touching me all the time and it’s...” Suga groaned and dropped his head on the back of the armchair, thinking about the way Oikawa’s arms had felt warm around him, lighting every place Oikawa was touching him on fire. “It feels so good.”

“Sounds like you really like him.”

“That’s what scares me,” Suga confessed, his eyes fixed on nothing, looking up at the white ceiling.

“Why does it scare you?”

“We’re roommates, really close friends. I’m afraid that if I let my feelings take over, if I act on them, it’s going to ruin our friendship.”

“It could turn into a really great relationship too.”

Suga moved his eyes to look at Akaashi. “But none of my past relationships have lasted long. They’ve all ended because they found and fell in love with someone else and I don’t think I could go through that again.”

Understanding and sympathy filled Akaashi’s eyes.

“That might not happen with Oikawa,” Akaashi said in a soothing voice. “I’m afraid, though, that you won’t find out for sure unless you do something about this and tell him how you feel.”

“I know.” Suga sighed and they fell into a comfortable silence. He didn’t say anything about his doubts of Oikawa liking him. Because why would he? He was so casual about everything they did with each other that Suga couldn’t believe Oikawa liked him back.

Suga could feel Akaashi’s gaze on him, but it wasn’t oppressive or heavy, so he let Akaashi study him.

“While we’re still on the subject” - Akaashi cleared his throat and Suga lifted his head off the back of the armchair to look at him - “how long have you felt like this about Oikawa?”

Suga pretended to think back for a moment, like he was really trying to think back, when he already had the answer ready on the tip of his tongue. He had asked himself the same question numerous times, always coming to the same conclusion.

“Since Christmas, I think.”

Akaashi’s eyes opened wide, but that was the only sign he showed of surprise. “Suga, that’s two months ago.”

“I know,” Suga admitted and sighed. “It’s been hell.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

“He had Kageyama.”

“But that ended over a month ago.”

“I know.”

Akaashi adopted his therapeutic and patient voice again. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I told you I was scared, didn’t I?” Suga asked softly. Akaashi nodded, the motion curt and barely there, but Suga caught it.

It wasn’t the only reason, though. It wasn’t just that he was terrified of getting hurt again. He was also afraid that Oikawa didn’t feel the same way. Even though Oikawa had already kind of admitted that he did.

Suga shook his head, ridding himself from the never-ending contemplation he kept doing during his short moments of solitude. He wished he knew what Oikawa had meant when he said “I like you”, but he was afraid to ask. And he was constantly petrified when he thought about the possible meanings – so petrified that sometimes he didn’t want to know what Oikawa had meant.

 

...

 

“How’s it going, Oikawa?” Kuroo asked when he came in the living room, shortly after Suga had left, and went straight to the vacant armchair, his eyes glued to his cell phone. “Anything new?”

“Nothing. School is school, although I’m pretty much done with my dissertation,” Oikawa answered. He had been ‘obsessing over his dissertation’ as Suga had called it the day before.

“That’s good,” Kuroo said, sounding distracted.

“But in other news, Suga is adorable and it’s killing me,” Oikawa added when he put his laptop down on the coffee table. Kuroo was present, and Suga wasn’t, which created a perfect scenario for Oikawa to talk about the latter person.

“So, tell him,” Kuroo said, still focused on his cell phone as he kept tapping out a message. “That fixes your problem.”

“Can you not sext Tsukishima for two minutes?” Oikawa asked, annoyed that Kuroo wasn’t giving him his full attention.

“I really can’t,” Kuroo answered seriously.

Oikawa let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

“Plus, I’ve decided that I’m not going to listen to you whine about wanting Suga until you tell him,” Kuroo said, still typing on his cell.

“Why?”

“Because it’s annoying, old news, and getting boring to hear you repeat yourself.”

“Fine, then I won’t listen to you talk about Tsukishima.”

“Whoa, I almost gave a fuck.”

Oikawa sat silently for a spell, sulking in his own thoughts, his arms crossed in front of his chest and accompanied with a pout. But Kuroo wasn’t paying any attention to him.

“I actually told Suga,” Oikawa admitted then, getting over himself and his half-assed will to hold onto his dignity.

“Told him what?” Kuroo sounded distracted, which wasn’t a surprise since he looked solely focused on his cell phone.

Oikawa waited for another moment, curious to see if Kuroo would ask him again, or put his phone down, somehow magically realizing without being told that Oikawa had something important he needed to talk about.

It didn’t happen though, and Oikawa was sure he had gotten stuck into some weird rift in space and time where nothing happened as he thought it would.

“I told him that I like him,” Oikawa said, watching carefully how Kuroo would react to his words. And this time he wasn’t let down. There was an actual reaction.

“What?” Kuroo asked in a loud voice, sat up straighter and dropped his cell phone next to him. All of it happened simultaneously and Oikawa was almost worried that Kuroo had gotten whiplash from his quick move. “You told him?”

Oikawa hid his pleased smile behind his hand by leaning his chin on his palm. “I did.”

“And this is how you tell me?” Kuroo kept speaking in an almost shout. “I’ve been here for ten minutes!”

“I tried to tell you sooner but you were busy sexting with Tsukishima,” Oikawa said in an accusing tone.  

“You were talking about how adorable you find Suga, and since you do that all the time, of course I tuned you out,” Kuroo explained, defending himself. And in a way Oikawa could understand, and simultaneously couldn’t, because Suga was always adorable so how could he not talk about it?

“So, are you and Suga dating now? What’s going on between you two now? Do we need to prepare for a locked front door when we want something to eat?” Kuroo spoke fast. Oikawa was somewhat delighted that Kuroo was so interested to know more. “Did Suga tell you he likes you back?”

Kuroo’s last question brought Oikawa back to reality, back to the disappointing moment that had been Suga’s lame response. “There was barely any reaction from Suga,” he admitted with a slight pout.

“Well, how did he react?” Kuroo leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his full attention on Oikawa.

“He just said that ‘I’m kind of fun too.’”

Oikawa watched how Kuroo’s eyes went around, looking around the living room but focusing on nothing, before they fixed back on Oikawa.

“How did you tell him exactly?” Kuroo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously when he asked.

“I told him ‘I like you.’”

“And he said that you’re kind of fun?” Kuroo asked incredulously, still looking at Oikawa like he suspected that he was hearing the truth.

“Yeah.”

Kuroo leaned back and crossed his arms in front of his chest, once again looking around at nothing as he seemed to think over and over what Oikawa had told him. Oikawa could hear Kuroo’s phone silently ding with a new message now and then.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Kuroo said before he focused on Oikawa. “How did you say it?”

“I just said it.” Oikawa shrugged. He didn’t want to really get into how he confessed to Suga that he liked him. He had a feeling he hadn’t said it ‘right’, as if there was a right or wrong way to say it, and that was part of the reason, maybe the only reason, why Suga hadn’t reacted as he had wanted and expected Suga to react.

“No, I mean,” Kuroo started and unfurled his arms and ruffled his hair. “Did you say it in middle of some everyday mundane thing, or did you sit him down and spill your feelings out for him?”

Oikawa thought about it for a moment. “The first I guess,” he answered unsurely. It wasn’t quite true, but closer than the latter example.

“Then you didn’t say it right,” Kuroo stated immediately with a shake of his head. “He didn’t believe you, and thus you didn’t tell him.” Kuroo seemed to come to a conclusion and he fished his phone out from between his thigh and the arm of the chair, starting to type a response to whatever text Tsukishima had sent him.

“What? Do I need to profess my undying love for him or something?” Oikawa spit out the words. “With flowers and hearts and chocolates?” he added to exaggerate.

“Yeah, kind of.” Kuroo nodded slightly with his words, a funny and a little sorry smile on his lips.

Oikawa mulled over Kuroo’s words, and how they echoed what Akiko had told him. Maybe Suga wouldn’t get that Oikawa liked him unless he wrote it in the sky or held up a boombox in his arms under Suga’s window.

“Just serenade him or something, set up a romantic dinner, or...” Kuroo offered some examples of his own, but they all sounded too cheesy and unoriginal to Oikawa. “Just think about it,” Kuroo gave a last piece of advice before he stood up. “I have to go. I was just promised sex and I’m not missing on that.”

Oikawa smiled a little at Kuroo’s eagerness and brazenness. “Remember protection,” he reminded Kuroo when he was putting his shoes on. For once, and probably the first time ever for Oikawa to witness, Kuroo hadn’t walked down the building’s stairwell in just his socks.

“Always,” Kuroo called when he was already stepping out of the apartment, leaving Oikawa alone with his nonexistent ideas on how to tell Suga, to explain thoroughly his feelings.

 

...

 

“Hey, is it okay for me to come in yet?” Bokuto called from the front door, interrupting Suga and Akaashi’s conversation.

A quick glance at the clock on the stereo in Akaashi and Bokuto’s living room told Suga that he had come back exactly an hour after he had left. Suga had an uneasy feeling that Bokuto didn’t quite trust him and Akaashi to be together alone, as much as he tended to act otherwise. Suga didn’t mind that Bokuto had returned now, though, he didn’t have anything he wanted to talk to Akaashi about, and he didn’t want Akaashi to ask him any more questions. He wouldn’t have the answers anyway.

“Yes,” Akaashi answered and reached to turn the notebook upside down on the table.

“Hey, Suga.” Bokuto greeted him happily and went to Akaashi. “Hey babe.” He kissed his boyfriend. “How was your session?”

“It was good,” Suga answered with an honest and happy smile.

“Aw, babe,” Bokuto cooed and went to Suga. “That’s great.” He smiled broadly and patted Suga on his shoulder.

Suga let out an amused sound somewhere between a scoff and a snort and he saw Akaashi’s lips lift just a little with a small, barely there, smile.

“This was the last session, right?” Bokuto asked, looking at Akaashi for an answer. Akaashi nodded his head once.

“And you’ll be able to use it for your thesis?” Bokuto asked again from Akaashi. This time he nodded, looking straight at Suga, almost imperceptible gratitude in his eyes. His gaze was intense and Suga could still vividly remember, still feel the ghosts of the shivers, of being looked at like that by him.

 _I should go,_ Suga thought, shifting a little in the armchair, getting ready to leave.

“Thanks for doing this for Akaashi, Suga.” Bokuto turned to thank him.

“Of course.” Suga smiled back, thoroughly glad that he had been able to help. “It was fun,” he added, voicing his thoughts about the whole thing.

Bokuto nodded in acknowledgement of Suga’s answer and then turned to go to the kitchen. “Do you want to stay for dinner, Suga?” he asked and Suga could hear him unpack the groceries he had brought with him.  

“No, thank you.” Suga answered and stood up. “I already made plans with Oikawa.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about this more?” Akaashi asked, his eyes concerned but his expression otherwise placid.

“I’m sure,” Suga reassured him with a smile.

“Okay, see you later then.” Akaashi made another curt nod.  

“Bye.” Suga waved and left the apartment with a small smile. It had been a slight relief to tell Akaashi about his feelings for Oikawa, even though it hadn’t really resolved anything.

 

...

 

“So.” Akaashi got up and went to the kitchen too when Suga had closed the front door after him. “How long were you listening behind the door?”

Bokuto turned to lean back on the counter and bit into a mini carrot. “Does Suga realize that Oikawa likes him back?”

“No.” Akaashi shook his head. “You know that Suga isn’t a hint taker.”

“Hmm...” Bokuto mused and offered a mini carrot to his boyfriend as well, who accepted it. “I wonder if Suga’s going to do anything about his feelings.”

“You didn’t see how worried he looked when he said that Oikawa might meet someone else and end up breaking his heart.” Akaashi leaned against Bokuto’s chest, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Bokuto brought his arms around Akaashi as well and kissed the top of his head. “You’re not still feeling guilty because of what happened between you and Suga?”

“No.” Akaashi shook his head and took a deep breath, breathing in his boyfriend’s smell, and letting it out slowly. It always steadied him to be around and close to Bokuto. “I just hate the fact that a close friend has had to watch every guy he’s liked to fall for someone else.”

“I know what you mean.” Bokuto spoke against Akaashi’s hair, his hands soothing along Akaashi’s back. “But it could be the real thing with Oikawa.”

“Maybe,” Akaashi said and took a step away from Bokuto, arms sliding away from him. “So, what’s for dinner?”

 

...

 

“Hey babe,” Suga called when got back home and saw Oikawa sitting by the kitchen island with his laptop in front of him.

Oikawa straightened his back slowly and turned to look at Suga even slower. “Babe?” he asked with amusement, his lips quirking up into a small smirk.

Suga stopped mid-step, realizing what he had let slip by. “Sorry,” he hurried to say, his eyes widening in horror. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Oikawa sounded pleased as he spoke and snickered softly when he turned back around.

Suga let out a small relieved sigh and recollected his scattered thoughts and runaway intestines from the floor. “What are you doing?” he asked then, making his way closer to the kitchen.

“Come here.” Oikawa beckoned with his hand and Suga went. “I want to show you something.”

“What is it?”

Oikawa turned on the chair sideways and pulled on Suga’s shirt for him to come closer, until he was settled between Oikawa’s legs, his side only few inches away from Oikawa’s chest.

“Iwa-chan sent me photos that Daichi took at your mom’s unofficial birthday party dinner.”

Suga looked at the laptop screen, trying to focus on the pictures changing there, but Oikawa’s hand was distracting him. His fingers were softly drawing small circles on Suga’s lower back, causing delicious shivers to travel up his spine. Even though Oikawa’s touches had become an everyday thing – Suga was a little unclear on how that had happened – it still excited Suga, caused delicious shivers and shudders to run wildly and uncontrollably up his spine.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who knows how to take photographs.” Suga tried to speak evenly, trying to focus on breathing normally as Oikawa’s touch grew lighter and all the more teasing and simultaneously tempting.

Oikawa chuckled and leaned his chin on his free hand, gaze on the photos as well.

“Yours are better,” he said kindly and Suga glanced at him quickly.

“Thanks.” He smiled, focusing his eyes back on the screen. It had been a fun evening and Suga remembered taking a lot of photos himself. These were different though – he was in a lot of them.

He thought back to what Oikawa had said about having a photo of himself and looking at it when he was decades older. It could be fun to remember the party like this too, not just seeing the elation on his friends faces, but on his own as well.

A photo of him and Oikawa stopped Suga’s thoughts. He acted on a split-second impulse and paused the slideshow. It hadn’t been a special moment in any way, but he could remember laughing at Oikawa’s joke. He studied the photo, the soft way Oikawa was looking at him in it while he was laughing.

“What’s wrong?” Oikawa searched his eyes, but Suga was too immersed in the photo and everything it suggested to answer him.

He had just come to accept that he had feelings for Oikawa, but could he be so bold as to hope that maybe, just maybe, Oikawa felt the same way about him?

“Nothing’s wrong,” Suga answered and unpaused the slideshow. “It’s a good photo, that’s all.”

“Yeah, it is.” Oikawa agreed, the smile clearly audible in his voice as he returned to look at the photo of them.

Suga discreetly looked at Oikawa. Did Oikawa _like_ him? Was that what he had meant when he said that he liked Suga? And if it that was true, should Suga let him know that he liked Oikawa back?

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn't manage with the under-five-thousand-words -goal I set for myself, but maybe that's okay. I think I need to embrace the fact that the chapters are long, especially since one chapter that I've been simultaneously writing is already at twelve thousand words. 
> 
> Oh, and yeah, this chapter basically happened because I was asked what went through Suga's head when Oikawa confessed. And, well, *shrugs* 
> 
> The alien language -part happened almost by accident, with me listening to the Wall-E soundtrack and loving all the little funny sounds Wall-E makes. And thus, I was inspired.  
> And it became a sort of a 'thing' about my first language with the 'alien'-words, because of the whole hundred years of independence thing happening here and all. 
> 
>  
> 
> to be continued (do you even care about this little thing I add to the end of almost every chapter?): 
> 
> "Do you still love him?"  
> Yamaguchi answered with a nod.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song remains the same  
> Over and over and over again 
> 
> P.s. I loved all the comments and feedback I got for the last chapter! There were more than usual, and I was so very happy to read all of them :) Thank you very much! 
> 
> Thank you again to arc_kakusei for help! (Go check out their OiSuga fic [ Coffee for two ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12897276/chapters/29463798) )

 

Oikawa was hanging in the living room with Kuroo and Bokuto. It had been a while since the three of them had unofficially gathered together. Oikawa would never admit it out loud, but he had missed them, and their company. They could be fun when they wanted to.

“So, Oikawa,” Kuroo started once he had settled down on the couch, and Oikawa looked at him expectantly. “Has any development happened between you and Suga?”

“We’re not thirteen,” Oikawa answered sarcastically. “I’m not talking about whatever is or isn’t happening between me and Suga with you two.”

“That means no,” Bokuto translated with an amused expression.

“I know.” Kuroo chuckled. “What happened, Oikawa? You used to whine to me and Bokuto about Suga all the time.”

“Nothing happened,” Oikawa said almost petulantly. Because nothing had happened. He and Suga were still close, they still spent time together all the time, whenever Oikawa took a little break from his school stuff.

“Do you know why nothing has happened?” Bokuto asked with a knowing smirk that Oikawa didn’t like.

“Because you haven’t told Suga that you like him,” Kuroo answered.

 _Great,_ Oikawa groaned inwardly and hung his head back for a moment, contemplating his life and recent decisions that had led him into this situation. If he had known that Kuroo and Bokuto would tease him about Suga, he wouldn’t have let them in the apartment.

“Why are you waiting so long to tell Suga?” Bokuto asked with an honest tone of intrigue in his voice. Oikawa would have answered if he had an answer.

“When I realized that I like Tsukki, I told him immediately,” Kuroo told him somberly.

 _This is good,_ Oikawa thought bitterly. They were starting to pity him.

“It’s not the same with me and Suga,” Oikawa said with a sigh. “You two weren’t roommates.”

“So you’re roommates,” Kuroo said flippantly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Why does that matter when you like each other?”

“Um, there’s no proof that Suga likes me,” Oikawa said slowly. But he wondered what had caused Kuroo to skip over that little fact once again. Everyone seemed to assume that Suga liked him back, even though there was no solid evidence of that. Nothing about Suga was without a doubt.

Bokuto and Kuroo exchanged a confused look.

“Why do you say that?” Bokuto asked seriously.

Oikawa, however, didn’t get a chance to answer. At that moment, the front door opened and Suga came in and shrugged off his jacket with a sound of impatience.

“What’s wrong Suga?” Kuroo asked when he noticed the man as well.  

“I’m frustrated,” Suga answered and kicked off his shoes with a very impressive groan of frustration.

“Why are you frustrated?” Oikawa asked, curious of the cause. Was it because of Suga’s upcoming exhibit? He had left earlier that day to a meeting with Takeda.  

“I haven’t gotten dick for months,” Suga answered candidly, right before he disappeared down the hallway, leaving everyone in the living room with various expressions of amusement, bafflement and shock.

“That’s your cue, Oikawa,” Kuroo said with a smirk.

“Fuck off,” Oikawa bit back, a little and yet not at all surprised that Kuroo was so crude. But he did get up and headed towards Suga’s room. He had heard a door close shortly after Suga had left them with his frustrated statement.

“Are you really going for it?” Kuroo asked incredulously when he noticed Oikawa leaving.

“Of course not.” Oikawa shot him a disapproving glance over his shoulder.

Oikawa was a little nervous, for the first time ever, as he approached Suga’s room. But Suga seemed to need someone to... Oikawa wasn’t sure what for, maybe talk? Distract him? Oikawa really wasn’t sure, and he had a feeling that some simple hair caressing wouldn’t help here. Upset and angry weren’t the same thing as horny and sexually pent-up. And Oikawa was aware of how uncharted this territory was for him when it came to Suga.

Oikawa knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for Suga’s okay to do so, knowing it would be fine. “Hey,” he said and Suga – who was in middle of taking his sweater off, exposing his stomach a little because the t-shirt he had worn under the sweater had risen up a little – turned to look at him. “You okay?” Oikawa asked, trying with all his might to look up to Suga’s eyes, magnificently failing in it until Suga had successfully removed his sweater and his t-shirt dropped down to hide his midriff.

“I’m fine,” Suga replied as he threw his sweater to the hamper. He seemed to still just for a moment, like he had been struck with a thought, and slowly looked at Oikawa, almost warily. “You’re not here because of what I said, right?”

Oikawa smirked, and then bit his lip to hide it. “No.” He shook his head. “I was just concerned about you.”

“I’m fine,” Suga repeated and went to his closet.

Oikawa moved to sit down on the edge of Suga’s bed, his legs stretched out in front of him, so their conversation wasn’t as audible to the living room. “Are you sure you’re okay? I’ve never seen you so frustrated,” he said, clasping his hands together and resting them between his thighs.

“I’m sure,” came Suga’s muffled response.

Oikawa could hear the distinct sound of more clothes being removed and he looked away from the closet. From where he was sitting, he could see inside the closet if he wanted to. And as much as he wanted to, he didn’t _want_ to see Suga take off his clothes. If that made sense. Suga’s earlier words when he came home had already done things to Oikawa. They had given him ideas – ideas that he couldn’t act on. At least not yet, but maybe later, so Oikawa pushed them to the far recesses of his mind for future reference.

“Are you going to do something about it?” Oikawa referred to Suga’s frustration, a little afraid to ask, because he wasn’t sure if he’d like the answer. Suga didn’t say anything for a moment and Oikawa wondered what Suga was thinking right then. Maybe he was already planning on doing something about it, but wondering if he could tell Oikawa? But why couldn’t Suga tell him? Since they were just friends and apparently, like Kuroo and Bokuto had informed Oikawa, Suga was very frank about sex.

“I’m not going to bring some random guy here, don’t worry,” Suga answered when he came back out of the closet, and Oikawa hid his relieved sigh with his slow exhale. And cursed in his head right after it when he took in the sight of Suga and noted what he were wearing – almost tight fitting sweats and an oversized wool-knit shirt. Oikawa took in a slow and deep breath, biting his bottom lip, trying to calm down. Because that was his shirt.

“I wasn’t worried.” He shook his head a little, and once he could think straight again, he smirked just in case, trying to sell his nonchalance to Suga. In fact, he was a little worried. Actually, a lot worried. But he didn’t want Suga to know that.

He should tell Suga. Kuroo was right about that. It could solve all his problems. But now didn’t seem like the right moment. He believed in those ‘right moments’ and always tended to reason that it was the wrong moment to tell Suga about his fond feelings towards him.

“Oh, okay,” Suga replied to Oikawa’s faked casual statement, sounding a little disappointed. “Good.”

Oikawa tilted his head a little, studying his expression, but whatever was there that could have explained Suga’s tone was gone too quickly. “Do you want me to be worried?” Oikawa asked, though. Not even sure himself why, but yet he felt the need to ask.

“Does it matter?” Suga asked quietly as he came to stand in front of Oikawa, over his outstretched legs.

Oikawa looked up to Suga’s face, and then closed his eyes when he felt Suga’s fingers run through his hair. “Your hair is getting long,” Suga spoke in a hushed tone.

Oikawa reached for the hem of Suga’s shirt, and just held on tightly to keep some sort of contact on Suga, to ground himself in the soft moment they suddenly got wrapped in. He wanted to pull on the shirt, to pull Suga closer, close enough to have Suga sit in his lap.

“You could definitely pull your hair into a ponytail,” Suga spoke up after a long but gentle stretch of silence that, once it was broken, felt too short to Oikawa. However, a slow smile spread on his lips and he opened his eyes again look at Suga.

“You really have a thing for ponytails, don’t you?” he teased Suga and he saw how Suga’s eyes moved from following his hand’s movement to look straight into Oikawa’s eyes. There was something almost indecipherable in the way Suga was looking at him, and Oikawa really wanted to ask about it.

“Not necessarily,” Suga answered the question and stepped away, his hand falling away from Oikawa’s hair, before Oikawa could ask about The Look. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t think you wouldn’t look good with one.”

Oikawa smiled, pleased of the compliment.

“Do we have any food?” Suga asked then, changing the atmosphere into something much more casual with those five simple words.

“I think so,” Oikawa replied, getting up and following Suga out of his room and down the hallway to the living room.

Bokuto and Kuroo were leaning close to each other, over the two couches’ armrests, but sprang apart when Oikawa and Suga returned to the living room.

“Did you two make out?” Kuroo asked with a smirk immediately, unfazed that he and Bokuto had been busted for whispering and conspiring. Because they definitely had been talking about Oikawa and Suga, Oikawa was sure of it.

“Of course not,” Suga scoffed, and hit Kuroo’s shoulder when he went past the man to the kitchen.

“Ow,” Kuroo said lamely, distractedly rubbing the spot where Suga’s fist had connected to, while Bokuto snickered on the adjoining couch. “You two just disappeared after your dick comment. There was a legit reason for me to ask,” Kuroo defended himself.

Oikawa went to sit on the same couch with Kuroo, with a satisfied grin on his face that Suga had hit him, and pushed Kuroo’s legs off the couch to make room for himself.

“You seriously missed a great opportunity right there,” Kuroo whispered to Oikawa, leaning closer to him. “Your crush says he wants dick and you don’t go and make things happen.” Kuroo stopped to shake his head like he was disappointed. Oikawa turned his head to look towards Suga, maybe to check and make sure he didn’t hear. Kuroo noticed and added, “I think there’s seriously something wrong with you.”

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa called.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to hit Kuroo again,” he said to Suga while smiling sweetly towards Kuroo. “He’s being disgusting.” Kuroo made an impressive indignant gasp, while Bokuto looked on, looking a little confused because he probably hadn’t heard what Kuroo had whispered and a little amused because he seemed to want to see Kuroo get hit again.

“What am I?” Suga asked, his voice coming closer and closer and when Oikawa looked over his shoulder he saw Suga standing behind them. “Your knight in shining armor defending your honor?” Suga teased with his impossibly adorable and beautiful smile, leaning his hands on the back of the couch.

“Yes,” Oikawa deadpanned and fluttered his eyelids, and as a reward got to see Kuroo get hit on his other shoulder.

“Ow!” Kuroo yelped in pain, and rubbed on his other shoulder, pouting after Suga who went back to the kitchen.

“Kuroo’s right, you should’ve kissed Suga when he came home,” Bokuto whispered in turn.

Oikawa regarded him for a moment. He didn’t think he had missed his chance or that he should’ve kissed Suga or anything. He turned his focus back on the silly rom-com they had been watching earlier. “I’m not going to start anything with him like that,” he spoke to the TV, the laugh track wildly inappropriately fitting to the moment of their hushed conversation.

“Start what?” Suga asked curiously when he came to the living room, carrying a small bowl of soup or something that was undoubtedly cold. Oikawa hadn’t heard the microwave.

“Nothing,” Oikawa answered with a smile and, when Suga was about to walk past him to the other couch, he pulled on the back of Suga’s shirt until Suga sat between him and the couch’s armrest.

Suga settled there without a word, carefully balancing his bowl when he pulled his feet up on the couch, his knees in front of him. “What are you guys watching?” he asked then.

“Some old reruns of Friends,” Bokuto answered.

“I figured you chose the show,” Suga said with a knowing tone. Oikawa smiled hearing it, because Suga had been right.

“Well, I couldn’t watch it at home because Akaashi wanted to focus on finishing his thesis,” Bokuto explained. “Thanks for helping him with it, by the way,” he added then, almost as an afterthought.

“You don’t need to keep thanking me,” Suga told him kindly. “I was happy to help.”

“Still, thank you,” Bokuto said again, and there was something in his voice that sounded a little off to Oikawa. He glanced at Bokuto, but the usually cheerful man was smiling at a funny joke on the show, and Oikawa gave up on figuring out the hint of an edge in his tone.

“Akaashi is very welcome,” Suga told Bokuto. There was something quite not sincere in Suga’s voice either. Had he caught the hint of something being wrong in Bokuto’s voice too?

Oikawa slumped lower on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table. He rested his arm on Suga’s thigh and his hand on Suga’s knee, because just sitting next to Suga wasn’t enough. He wanted to be able to concretely touch him, to really feel Suga there. From his position he could see in his periphery the glances Kuroo and Bokuto shot at them and then traded with each other, but he ignored them in favor of reveling in the feeling of having Suga pressed against his side.

He really, honestly, undisputedly, liked having Suga so close to him. And he suspected that Suga kind of liked being close to him. At least he didn’t pull away, and that was something.

 

...

 

It took forever for Bokuto and Kuroo to leave their apartment, and it was already getting kind of late when Oikawa managed to open his laptop on the kitchen table. Suga had sat down by there as well, with his own laptop, and for a while they both had just worked on their own things in comfortable and companionable silence.

“I bet I can throw this piece of paper into the trash from here,” Suga spoke up, bringing Oikawa from his thoughts. He looked up from his laptop and saw Suga measure the distance between the chair he was sitting on and the trash can with his eyes.

“There’s no way,” Oikawa disagreed and turned back to his email. He was currently reading his advisor’s notes on the development of his dissertation. It was all positive feedback, and Oikawa was quite pleased. But he still wasn’t content with it.

“You think so?” Suga asked and Oikawa sighed when he looked at him again. There was a playful smile on Suga’s lips. “I’m a good thrower.”

“I’m not disputing you on that,” Oikawa said. “But the distance is long and there’s barely any weight in the paper for it to have enough momentum to reach the trash.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Suga said and moved to sit on the edge of the chair.

“As if I’d make a deal with the devil,” Oikawa stated calmly, but meaning his words in jest, interrupting Suga before he could continue with his ‘deal’.

“Can you make up your mind already?” Suga asked impatiently, clearly sidetracked from his original train of thought. “Am I an angel or the devil? Because you keep calling me both.”

Oikawa smiled, pleased and delighted that Suga could probably remember every occasion that he had called Suga either an angel or the devil.

“What’s the deal?” Oikawa decided to remind Suga instead of answering his question. It was safe to say that Suga had already pulled Oikawa’s thoughts away from his dissertation.

Suga studied Oikawa for a moment, and Oikawa figured he was pondering whether to demand an answer, or continue with the conditions of his deal. Suga seemed to have come to a decision when he opened his mouth and let out his breath in a short gust. “If I get this,” Suga showed the wadded up ball of paper, “to the trash can, you close your laptop, because it’s past ten p.m., and watch Godzilla with me.”

“And what if I win?” Oikawa asked with a smug smirk. He was sure he’d win. There was no way Suga could make it from the distance he was sitting from the trash can. “Do I get a foot massage from you?”

“No, I’ll cook for a month,” Suga said confidently.

Oikawa weighed his chances, and was surer of his win than of his defeat. And the pros of the win did outweigh the cons.

“What do you say?” Suga leaned closer, his crossed arms resting on the tabletop. “Want to make a deal with the devil?” He smiled like he knew the ultimate secret of the universe, and Oikawa would’ve watched him smile like that for an eternity. It wasn’t just the perks of the win, or the way Suga smiled that made up Oikawa’s mind, but the tone and way that Suga spoke and everything it suggested.

Nowadays, Oikawa was fairly certain, like 98 or 99 percent sure, that Suga kept flirting with him. He still could remember the first time he had realized it – the first time that Suga’s flirting had been pointed out to him. It had been just as insignificant a day in the large scale of things as any other day, and he had come home from school.

 

…

 

“Hey,” Oikawa said when he came home from school. He dropped his bag by the front door and went further into the apartment and saw Suga sitting by the kitchen table.

“Hey.” Suga looked up to him and lowered the laptop screen. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” Oikawa answered.

“I’m glad.” Suga smiled.

Oikawa eyed the way Suga tried to make sure that he didn’t see what was on the screen. It piqued Oikawa’s interest and he decided to sit down next to Suga.

“What did you do today?”

“Nothing special. I was with Asahi for a while until Noya came home.” Suga shrugged and tried to surreptitiously turn his laptop away from Oikawa.

Oikawa followed the move with his eyes before he looked back to Suga. “Can I ask something about Asahi?”

“Sure.”

“Is he dating anyone?”

“Why? Are you interested in dating him?” Suga smiled with his tease.

“Just answer the question, Suga-chan.” Oikawa urged and leaned his elbow on the table, angling his body to face Suga fully.

“Officially no,” Suga said slowly.

“And unofficially he’s dating Nishinoya?”

“How did you know?”

“They weren’t exactly hiding it, but I got the feeling that they tried to?” Oikawa leaned his cheek on his closed hand.

“Yeah, it’s sort of their secret.” Suga mimicked his position.

“A secret that everyone knows?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then why keep it a secret at all?”

“I don’t know. I guess it’s because of this building. Can you imagine falling for someone within this building, knowing what the other tenants are like? It can’t be easy to start anything when everyone might be watching every step of it.”

“Hmm... Maybe you’re right.” Oikawa had to regretfully admit. Knowing their neighbors, and how invested they already were about his crush on Suga, Oikawa was certain that it could be hard to have any kind of normal relationship with him. There was a certainty in the air already, that once – or if – he and Suga started dating, every single thing and aspect of it would be under the microscope and the subject of heavy scrutiny.

It didn’t help that he had already talked about Suga with some of their neighbors, and inadvertently made their comments on the possibility of a relationship somehow accepted. He had a feeling that they would continue commenting whether things between him and Suga developed further. Kuroo had already given a prime example of it last week when Oikawa told him that he confessed to Suga.

Conveniently, their front door opened before Oikawa could say more about the possibility of dating in the building and theorizing how that could be. He and Suga turned their heads at the same time to see Hanamaki and Matsukawa waltz in.

“Please, do let yourself right in,” Oikawa said sarcastically and turned on the chair, leaning his arm on the back of it, to see his friends better.

“I’m so glad they picked up that habit so quickly.” Suga joined him with his own flavor of sarcasm and Oikawa chuckled. He knew that Suga didn’t really mind. Out of the two of them, Oikawa found their neighbors habit of just walking in annoying more than Suga did.

“Why do you sound like you’re not happy to see us, Suga?” Hanamaki asked as he took his shoes off. He and Matsukawa weren’t as privy to the inner workings of Suga’s mind, so it made sense for him to ask like he really cared if Suga had something against them dropping by. 

“It’s not that I’m not happy to see you, it’s just – “ Suga stopped abruptly.

Oikawa glanced at Suga and noticed that he was already looking at him. Oikawa raised his eyebrows as a question, but got no answer.  Had Suga wanted to spend time alone with him?

“Never mind,” Suga continued with a small shake of his head like he was trying to get rid of a thought or a mental image. Oikawa spared another second to try and unravel the mystery that was Suga, before Hanamaki drew his attention back.

“I thought it was a common custom in this building to just walk in here,” Hanamaki said innocently, as he made his way to a couch.

“Do you need something then?” Oikawa asked.

“No, we just wanted to hang with you,” Matsukawa said as he settled down next to Hanamaki. “So, what were you two talking about?”

Oikawa felt Suga lift his feet on one of the pegs at the chair’s legs as his knees brushed on Oikawa’s back.

“Nothing special,” he answered Matsukawa’s question at the same time that Suga said, “Ducks.”

Oikawa hid his smile in his hand and seconds later he felt Suga lean his chin on his shoulder. Oikawa felt a pleasant and electrifying feeling flutter under his skin and travel everywhere inside him at the contact.

“Which is it? Nothing special or ducks?” Hanamaki asked, his eyes looking between Oikawa and Suga.

“It’s both,” Oikawa answered.

“You look awfully cozy there for it to be nothing special or ducks.” Hanamaki observed with a knowing look that Oikawa didn’t like. There was nothing to _know_ about the physical closeness they were exhibiting at the moment.

“Suga-chan’s only trying to distract me from his laptop,” Oikawa explained. He was about fifty percent sure that he was right. Suga didn’t usually act like this around him. At least not in front of other people.

“Is it working?” Suga asked, his voice very close to Oikawa ear, and Oikawa resisted the want to turn his head _just a fraction_ to the side.

“No.” Oikawa chuckled, masking his deepest wants with the easiest superficial reaction he could come up with. He then yelped and jumped a little when fingers dug into his side, tickling him. “That’s not distracting me either.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Oikawa said and yelped again. He could hear Suga trying to suppress his snickering, and felt it against his own shoulder.

Oikawa, even though distracted a little by Suga’s close presence, saw Matsukawa smile and raise his eyebrows meaningfully to Hanamaki before he turned his eyes back to him and Suga in the kitchen.

“What’s on Suga’s laptop?” Hanamaki sounded intrigued.  

“Nothing,” Suga answered quickly and leaned away. Oikawa missed the weight on his shoulder and turned to look at him.

“Why are you hiding it then?” He reached towards Suga’s laptop, but Suga stopped him.

“I was watching porn,” Suga said in a rush, his hands covering the half-closed laptop.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes a little and studied Suga. “You’re lying.”

Suga tilted his head to the side. “Am I?” he asked with an impish smile.

Oikawa kept studying Suga and his smile, trying to figure out what was and wasn’t true, until he heard someone clear their throat in the living room.

“Not that we don’t enjoy your flirting,” Matsukawa started and Oikawa turned to look at him, the laptop pushed to the back of his mind.

Flirting?

Was Suga flirting with him?

Oikawa glanced at Suga and noticed his eyes flit to him and then back to Matsukawa.

“But can we do something else? Maybe eat?” Matsukawa suggested.

“Of course.” Suga agreed and got up with his laptop.

Oikawa watched him go before he got up too and went to the living room and sat in his arm chair with a sigh.

“So...” Hanamaki started with stretching the word. “You and Suga have gotten close.”

“I guess.” Oikawa admitted. They had gotten close, being more and more comfortable around each other. Which he loved. It had happened quite swiftly and almost imperceptibly and he sometimes wondered what Suga thought of it, if it affected him at all. “What of it?”

“Nothing.” Hanamaki shook his head. “Just –“

“Anybody home?” Kuroo interrupted him when he came. “Oh, hey Makki, Mattsun,” he greeted the men. “What’s up?”

“Not much. We just witnessed Oikawa and Suga flirt with each other.” Hanamaki answered him.

“Yeah?” Kuroo said and sat down on the couch. “Get used to it.”

“What?” Oikawa asked.

“You do it all the time,” Kuroo explained as if he was stating that the Earth was round or that the sky was blue.

“No, we don’t.” Oikawa was sure they didn’t flirt, at least not “all the time”. Well, admittedly, maybe he did with Suga, but he was quite sure that Suga didn’t flirt with him.

“I’m not surprised that you haven’t noticed it. Suga’s really good at it, really subtle. It sort of draws you in without you noticing it. You won’t realize he’s doing it unless you know what he’s like when he flirts.” Kuroo explained.

Oikawa didn’t believe him, yet he wanted to. So badly.

“It took me years to figure it out, but trust me. Once you get it, holy shit, do you get it.”

“Hey, Kuroo,” Suga greeted him when he came back, sans laptop, but Oikawa barely paid any attention to the conversation around him.

Kuroo’s words had struck a chord within him. Had Suga been flirting with him, or did he just want Suga to flirt with him and that’s why it was easy to believe when someone said he had been?

“Here for food again?”

And if Suga was flirting with him, why?

“No, I just came to hang. I’m going out with Tsukki later.”

Was there a motivation behind it, or did it just come naturally, instinctively, like it did for him? It had been easy to slip into flirting with Suga and then back to easy conversation or silence.

“Well, we’re going to eat anyway. Oikawa?” Suga said, bringing Oikawa back to the living room. “Tooru?”

“Yeah?”

There was a smile on Suga’s lips. “Where’d you go to?”

“Nowhere.”

“It looked like you were in another world.”

Oikawa didn’t think much of it first, but... Wasn’t the tone of voice and the smile a little different from the way they usually were on Suga? And accompanied with Suga’s head tilted to the side just a little. Was he...?

Oikawa glanced at Kuroo and saw him smirk and shoot a meaningful look at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who in turn looked on with amusement.

 _Holy shit… How did I miss it before?_ Oikawa wondered, struck with the realization.

 

…

 

During the following days, Oikawa couldn’t stop thinking about Kuroo’s reveal. He kept analyzing everything Suga said and did for signs that he was flirting or otherwise showing that he liked him.

And it kept happening. _All the time._

He could notice Suga flirt with him now, almost like it was second nature to Suga. Sometimes Suga seemed to catch himself doing it, and he’d quickly change his tone or the subject they were talking about. Oikawa kept suppressing his own smile whenever he noticed it and he kept wondering _why_ Suga was flirting with him.

Did Suga like him?

He had suspected it – cautiously so he didn’t fool himself into thinking it was true in case it wasn’t. But now, more and more, he was inclined to think that Suga _did_ like him. Because, wasn’t that proof that Suga liked him? Although, to be honest, Oikawa still wasn’t completely convinced that Suga liked him back.

The more Oikawa thought about Suga flirting, the less he could believe how he hadn’t noticed Suga’s flirting before, since it had become a habit for Suga some time ago. Maybe he had just gotten used to Suga, and how he usually was, and the slight shift in tone had gone unnoticed.

But now that Oikawa knew, and could tell without a mistake when Suga was flirting with him, he was more than just happy. He was beyond ecstatic that Suga flirted with him.

“Oikawa?” Suga asked, bringing Oikawa back to their kitchen and he returned Suga’s eye contact.

Suddenly he couldn’t look away from Suga.

Suga’s eyes were piercing through him, keeping him in place. No one else had ever managed to do that with a smile, a tone of voice and a choice of words.

“You’re both,” Oikawa answered the long forgotten question Suga had asked. Suga tilted his head a little to the side, and Oikawa levelled him with an honest look. “You’re sweet as an angel and mischievous as the devil.”

Suga smiled, seemingly pleased of Oikawa’s answer.  “Do we have a deal?” he asked then.

“Deal,” Oikawa outstretched his hand and Suga shook it quickly before he went back to where he had been, and prepared to throw the trash. He focused, aimed, bit his bottom lip – which caused Oikawa’s brain to short circuit with the want to kiss him – and threw.

 

...

 

In the end, Oikawa had to admit defeat, when Suga pushed his laptop closed and pulled him to the living room and pushed down to sit on the couch. He wasn’t even that surprised – a little miffed, sure – that he had lost. He had long time ago come to the conclusion that Suga didn’t make empty deals, that he didn’t make bets if he wasn’t sure he’d win.

So, when Suga went to put the disc inside their player, Oikawa lay down on the couch. “Did you know that Godzilla is Iwaizumi’s favorite movie?”

Suga looked over his shoulder at him. “Which Godzilla?”

“All of them, probably,” Oikawa answered. He wasn’t sure which one, to be honest, but it seemed like a safe answer.

“Have you seen all of them?” Suga asked uncertainly.

“No,” Oikawa yawned and shook his head. “Not the newest one.”

“Good.” Suga smiled with his opinion, and came to the same couch that Oikawa was already comfortably lounging on.

“Are we watching the newest then?”

“Yep,” Suga said with an almost giddy voice as he situated himself on the couch as well, one of his legs slung over Oikawa’s crossed legs and the other hanging off the side of the couch, half-lying and half-sitting with his back propped up against the armrest. “Could you press play?”

“I could but the remote’s closer to you,” Oikawa pointed to the remote from his slumped position. It was already late and neither of them was particularly motivated to move more than they absolutely had to. Not when they had already gotten themselves situated so comfortably. Every extra movement would require some serious talking into. And the remote, only an arm’s reach away on the coffee table, was too far away.

“It’s closer to you,” Suga argued softly.

“Are you sure you want to go through this again?” Oikawa asked, his head tilting towards Suga, his look inquisitive under his eyebrows.

Suga sighed. It was no surprise to Oikawa why he sighed, though. Somehow it was always Suga who ended up reaching for the remote.

“You’re just lazy,” Suga said and sat up a little to reach for the remote. He pressed play and the movie started immediately with a foreboding music played over production company logos.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head a little with a satisfied smile. “I just like it when you do things for me,” he teased and Suga shot him an almost dirty look.

“I will throw this remote at you,” Suga threatened light-heartedly.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Oikawa sounded sure of it, but was a bit wary.

“Yeah?” Suga asked with a devilish smile. “Try me.” He baited Oikawa with a rise of his eyebrows.

Oikawa studied his expression for a moment, before he grabbed the remote from Suga’s hand and threw it on the other couch.

He watched idly as it bounced on the soft cushion a couple of times. “Neither one of us is going to be able to reach it now without getting up,” Suga pointed out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Oikawa flipped his hand and Suga looked at him fully again. “We’ll fall asleep here during the movie anyway.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Suga said with a contemplative voice.

 

...

 

Fast-forwarding a day, Oikawa was once again sitting in the kitchen with his laptop.

“We’re here to grace you with our existence again,” Hanamaki announced when the front door opened and he and Matsukawa stepped inside the apartment.

Oikawa sighed, because apparently the only place where he could have some peace to work and study was in his room, and swiveled around on the kitchen stool to look at his best friends. “We’re all set with grace for now, you can go home,” he told them as a joke and smirked.

“You can never have too much grace,” Hanamaki responded casually and came to the kitchen. “Where’s Suga?” he asked when he could reach Oikawa and clapped him on the shoulder, looking around in the living area.

“He’s in his room,” Oikawa answered honestly and swiveled around again. He had been rewriting parts of his dissertation, but had needed a change of scenery from his monotonous room walls. He almost regretted choosing the kitchen.

“Great, I’ll go get him,” Hanamaki said and headed towards the hallway before Oikawa had the chance to stop him. If Oikawa had thought in time to ask Hanamaki why he needed to go and fetch Suga, he would’ve done so. But alas, Hanamaki had already slipped down the hallway and Oikawa, with another sigh, tried to focus on his work.

“How’s it going?” Matsukawa asked when he came to the kitchen as well and Oikawa looked up and to the side to see him.

“Good,” Oikawa replied and shrugged, before he focused back on typing. “Busy,” he added then.

“Are you rewriting?” Matsukawa asked incredulously from behind Oikawa’s shoulder.

“So what if I am?” Oikawa asked defiantly. What he had written wasn’t good enough, and he needed to make it better. He knew his advisor would probably throttle him for doing that, but he’d face the wrath when he came to it.

“You’re insane,” Matsukawa stated then, turned the laptop away from Oikawa, clearly deaf to Oikawa’s protests. “Relax, I’m saving your work,” Matsukawa said and swatted away Oikawa’s hands. “You definitely don’t need to rewrite anything.”

“Actually, I do,” Oikawa said and raised his eyebrows meaningfully, to show how much he meant what he said.

“No, you don’t,” Matsukawa disagreed and closed the laptop with determination. “What you need to do is relax, watch a movie and eat pizza with your friends.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Oikawa asked.

“Yes.”

“Don’t you have any other friends that you can do all that with?”

“We do,” Matsukawa said with an accompanying smile that Oikawa had the wherewithal to be a little apprehensive of. The smile told him that Matsukawa, and maybe Hanamaki as well, were planning on something. “But we decided to hang with you, because we like you the best.”

“Nice try with the fake compliment,” Oikawa deadpanned, the sarcasm very much detectable in his voice.

“Come on,” Matsukawa tried to cheer up Oikawa. “We haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I’ve been busy, you’ve been busy, everyone has been busy,” Oikawa listed half-heartedly. “We are young, we have time to hang out and spend more time with each other when we’re old.”

“If you live that long,” Matsukawa pointed out. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to die prematurely from stress and overworking yourself.”

Oikawa scoffed in response, but it probably fell on deaf ears again when Hanamaki returned, Suga trailing after him. No, not trailing – dragged. Hanamaki had his hand around Suga’s wrist and was pulling Suga after him.

“You won’t believe this,” Hanamaki said to Matsukawa. “Suga just said that he’s too busy to hang with us because he has to work.”

“Oikawa said the same.” Matsukawa gestured with his thumb towards Oikawa as he spoke.

“What is wrong with you two? You don’t need to work. You’re young. That’s when you slack off. You can catch up with stuff once you’re old.” Hanamaki tutted and shook his head in disbelief and disappointment.

“I actually have a deadline,” Suga defended himself, but he had a small smile on his lips that told Oikawa he wasn’t too upset that he wasn’t allowed to work.

“Same here,” Oikawa concurred with him, his fingers already twitching to reach for his laptop and take off with it.

“Oh,” Hanamaki said, clearly deflating. “Well, you can work tomorrow,” he came to a conclusion then and Oikawa resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“I can’t,” Suga said and Oikawa turned to look at him fully, interested to know why Suga couldn’t work on his exhibit tomorrow. “I’m going to my friend’s exhibit.”

“Your friend?” Matsukawa asked, leaning casually on the kitchen island, Oikawa’s laptop trapped between his arms. Oikawa shot a dirty look, that went unnoticed, towards his friend for blocking his access to the laptop.

“His name is Yamaguchi,” Suga answered, and Oikawa forgot all about his laptop. “I promised to go and see it.”

“Oh,” Oikawa let out in disappointment. He hadn’t heard the name for a while, and had kind of forgotten about it. But now, reminded of it, the familiar resentment rose up in him and he pursed his lips a little.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa probably noticed it, knowing him so long and so well. But Suga looked inquisitively at him.

“You just didn’t mention it before,” Oikawa explained quickly, and Suga seemed to accept his words to be true. And why wouldn’t he, since it was the truth. But his voice hadn’t been as sincere.

“I hadn’t planned on going first.” Suga shrugged. “But since he’s a friend I want to show my support.”

Oikawa could understand that, and tried to swallow down his disappointment. He had no legitimate reason not to like Yamaguchi, since he didn’t know him or hadn’t met him. And since Suga wasn’t aware, to Oikawa’s knowledge, about his feelings towards Suga, he wouldn’t understand why Oikawa was against the idea of him hanging with Yamaguchi.

“So, it’s decided.” Hanamaki clapped his hands together with an over-excited smile on his lips. “We’re watching a movie and eating too much pizza and having a fun night together.”

Oikawa didn’t understand why he was so excited, since nothing had been decided. But the happy way his friend was beaming made up Oikawa’s mind.

“Fine,” Oikawa acquiesced, and then looked at Suga, who nodded with a defeated sigh. Guess it really was decided then that they would spend their night with Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“Great,” Matsukawa beamed too. “Makki and Suga can go and pick up the pizzas.”

“Yep,” Hanamaki agreed and started to push Suga towards the front door. “We won’t take long,” he added cheerily and rushed Suga out the door in front of him before he could come up with an objection.

Once the front door closed, Oikawa turned to look at Matsukawa, and he saw that Matsukawa was already looking at him with contemplative eyes.

“What?” Oikawa retorted. The look Matsukawa had in his eyes made Oikawa feel a bit uneasy.

“Wow, it really bothers you,” Matsukawa responded like he was stating a fact.

Oikawa furrowed his brow. “What does?”

“That Suga is going to his friend’s gallery,” Matsukawa clarified, and Oikawa understood. He had been right. Matsukawa had noticed and subsequently connected the dots correctly.

“He can do what he wants.” Oikawa tried to sound nonchalant, but he had to fight something within himself to appear so.

“You should tell Suga that you like him,” Matsukawa urged gently.

“No,” Oikawa flat out refused. He was not going to spend his night talking about this again. He was continuously borderline harassed by Kuroo, and Bokuto. He wasn’t going to suffer through more from Matsukawa, or anyone else for that matter. Not when he was promised fun and he had been ordered to enjoy a movie night with some pizza. “We should pick a movie while they’re gone,” he said then and moved to the living room. He could hear Matsukawa trailing after him.

“Oikawa –”

“It’ll just make things awkward,” Oikawa interrupted Matsukawa, taking a slightly different approach about the whole thing than he had before with others.

But Matsukawa wasn’t discouraged or fazed in the slightest. “So?”

Oikawa studied him and tried to figure out why Matsukawa seemed so blasé about the prospect of things turning weird between Oikawa and Suga. “I don’t want anything between me and Suga to be awkward,” Oikawa explained with a shrug he didn’t mean at all. There really wasn’t anything to shrug about.

“I think it’s better than the alternative,” Matsukawa said with the smallest smile, probably intended to ease Oikawa’s state of apprehension and hostility.

“No –” Oikawa was about to refuse again, but Matsukawa interrupted him.

“Do you remember the time when I told Makki that I like him?”

“Yes.” Oikawa nodded while he perused the movie choices they had on hand. He wasn’t at all sure where Matsukawa was going with his question, but decided to listen anyway. He had a feeling that Matsukawa had a point in bringing him and Hanamaki up. He did it rarely, which told Oikawa, that he treasured the memory.

“Did you know that he laughed first because he thought that I was joking?”

“It was your fault for telling him in middle of volleyball practice.” Oikawa stated the obvious and picked up his Star Wars box set from the shelf with all of his favorite movies.

Matsukawa sighed, but continued. “I don’t think that’s going to happen with Suga. He seems really considerate. I think he’d take your feelings into consideration, and be really sweet about it. He’d give you space to deal with your crush, give you a chance to get over it by pulling back a little so he wouldn’t make anything harder for you.”

Oikawa agreed with him. Suga would be sweet and considerate, once he actually took Oikawa’s words as he meant them. But... “I don’t want him to distance himself from me,” Oikawa almost moaned. Because it was a legitimate fear of his whenever he thought about different scenarios of what would happen once he confessed his feelings to Suga.

“Maybe he won’t.” Matsukawa shrugged.

Something about Matsukawa’s gentle no-nonsense tone and way of speaking made Oikawa listen. And he was kind of glad about the change in narrative. So far everyone had been overly confident that Suga liked him back, but now Matsukawa was presenting another possibility.

“We’re watching Star Wars,” he informed Matsukawa, instead of acknowledging what he had said, waving the box set in front of Matsukawa’s face.

“Or, maybe Suga likes you too, but doesn’t know if he should or could tell you.” Matsukawa continued like Oikawa hadn’t said anything and shrugged again. Oikawa made a mental scratch over his earlier thought about the change in narrative. “Maybe you should tell him first.”

“Why would Suga think that he can’t tell me that he likes me?” Oikawa asked, because, despite of Matsukawa seemingly thinking like everyone else that Suga _did_ like him, he had also been considerate enough to acknowledge the alternative and actually thought about that possibility.

Matsukawa took the box set Oikawa was still waving in front of his face and put it back where Oikawa had picked it up from. “This is Suga we’re talking about, right?” Matsukawa asked when he turned to look at Oikawa again.

“Yes, so?” Oikawa asked, glancing away first briefly to try and figure out where Matsukawa was going with all of this.

“And he just broke up with that other guy.”

Did Matsukawa mean Terushima? If he did, then, “They broke up four months ago,” Oikawa pointed out and took the Star Wars box set from the shelf again.

Matsukawa looked taken aback, his eyebrows high on his forehead. “It’s been four months already?”

Oikawa nodded, and tried to step around Matsukawa to go to the TV and Blu-ray player.

“No.” Matsukawa stopped him by plucking the box set out of Oikawa’s hand again and replacing it on the shelf. “And you should confess first anyway,” Matsukawa seemed to decide, the determination of it very much in his tone.

“Why?” Oikawa sighed, not even caring if Matsukawa had a good reason. Because so far, no one had had one. He just wanted to stall. And to hear Matsukawa’s reasoning behind his statement. Even though Matsukawa was hitting most of the same arguments as everyone else Oikawa had talked about his crush with, he had had some new and refreshing thoughts as well. “If things are going to be weird and awkward with me and Suga after I confess my feelings for him, it doesn’t seem worth the trouble.”

Honestly, Oikawa would rather have Suga as his friend, than not at all.

“You’re a pretty charming guy when you want to be,” Matsukawa said patiently, a small self-conscious smile hovering on his lips as he scanned the shelves with his eyes. “Even if everything got awkward, it could turn out better. I bet you could get Suga to fall for you if you really put your effort into it. You seem his type.”

Matsukawa was right again – Oikawa knew he was Suga’s type. At least for the most part. He didn’t have that ponytail yet, though.

“You know, Makki and I consider our anniversary to be the day when I got to the dorm one day and found him crying because he thought that I was on a date with someone,” Matsukawa reminisced, his smile turning gentle and eyes soft as he picked up a movie, some sort of comedy that Oikawa had already laughed himself out of.  

Oikawa quickly took the DVD case from Matsukawa and threw it over his shoulder, knowing it would land on the couch behind him. “I know.” Oikawa matched his soft tone to Matsukawa’s.

“He got freaked out from reacting so strongly, from crying, that he cried even harder,” Matsukawa continued his story, once again looking for another movie.

“What are you trying to tell me?” Oikawa searched Matsukawa’s eyes for an answer when he turned to look at him, another movie in his hand. It wasn’t good either, and Oikawa sent it the same way the one before it had gone.

“Maybe Suga doesn’t even realize that he likes you yet.” Matsukawa said softly, his look of annoyance at his choice of movie getting shot down yet again at odds with the tone of his voice.

“You really think that he likes me?” Oikawa asked to make sure he understood correctly what Matsukawa was implying. “The same way that I like him? As in, wanting to be more than just roommates and friends?”

Matsukawa’s expression softened even more so, like he was trying to explain why leaves fall in autumn to a kid he was fond of. “Why else would he be so touchy with you?”

“He’s like that with everyone,” Oikawa reasoned, as he picked up the Star Wars box set again, even though Matsukawa’s words had a point. A very sharp point that kept poking Oikawa to acknowledge it.

“No,” Matsukawa sighed and shook his head. “He isn’t. And we’re not watching Star Wars.”

“Yes, he is.” Oikawa kept insisting. Because that’s all he had. “And yes we are.”

“No,” Matsukawa said sternly, pulling the box set from Oikawa and throwing it to the couch as well. “I’m not sitting through Star Wars, any of the seven movies, with you again.”

“They’re classics,” Oikawa argued. “Unlike those stupid comedies.” He pointed towards the DVDs he had thrown on the couch.

“No, they’re not,” Matsukawa argued back, but turned calm again, probably to force Oikawa to actually listen to him. “And Suga definitely is only soft and touchy with you. He doesn’t lean on anyone else like he leans on you. He doesn’t lie down with his head resting on anyone else’s leg. He doesn’t keep touching anyone else when he talks to them.” Matsukawa listed, clearly getting a little frustrated about Oikawa’s insistence to disagree, but keeping his cool and speaking patiently.

It forced Oikawa to consider Matsukawa’s words, thinking on every aspect of them and realizing that he was more or less right. He had mentioned some of the things that Oikawa kept thinking about on his own, whenever he forgot himself to wonder on whether Suga liked him back. Because Suga did come to him about everything - he was usually the one Suga told everything first, good or bad. And Oikawa was more often than not Suga’s pillow. _And_ he could always feel Suga’s hand on his arm or shoulder or back when it was just the two of them talking.

“And he keeps flirting with you all the time.” Matsukawa added as an afterthought. “I know you don’t see it because you’re trying really hard _not to_ see it, because you’re too afraid to believe it to be true.”

That’s where Matsukawa was wrong.

Oikawa had noticed the flirting, and he kept noticing it all the time, absolutely loving every second that Suga spent flirting with him. Oikawa dragged his hands through his overgrown hair with impatience. He tried to not get his hopes up. Unfortunately Suga’s flirting had become a very compelling argument for him that Suga did it on purpose because he liked him too.

However, Oikawa didn’t get a chance to tell any of that to Matsukawa.

For, once again, like another convenient plot point, their conversation was interrupted when Suga and Hanamaki came back.

 

...

 

Twenty minutes earlier, Suga and Hanamaki were making their way in the light, but wet, drizzle to the closest pizzeria. The pizza there was decent and appropriately priced considering the quality. It wasn’t luxury, five star restaurant quality, but it was pizza, and no one was that picky about it.

The pizzeria wasn’t busy when they got there, and they were promised to have their order ready in ten minutes. While they waited, they sat down by the window to observe the people walking by with their umbrellas, or with their hoods over their heads to shield themselves from the rain that wasn’t quite rainy enough to be called rain.

“Do you like Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked suddenly, thoroughly surprising Suga with the question. It had come from seemingly out of nowhere, since they had just spent a solid five minutes talking about the latest Marvel movie.

“Um,” Suga started, not knowing what to say. Yes, he liked Oikawa, but no, he wasn’t ready to admit that to a close friend of Oikawa’s. What if Hanamaki told him? “Why do you ask?” Suga tried to deflect, looking away at the pizza ovens.

“Just curious,” Hanamaki answered, and Suga noticed how he shrugged with his words. “You two are close and I just figured it’s because you like each other.”

“Oh.” Suga breathed out the word. That was true. They were close. But he had no idea how mutual the affection was. _He_ liked Oikawa, there was no denying it. But he had no clear idea whether Oikawa actually liked him.

And it made Suga so unbelievably and annoyingly confused. He wasn’t sure at all whether Oikawa liked him or if he was reading too much into things – the way Oikawa looked at him, or the way Oikawa kept touching him continually.

“I...” Suga started, but stopped and bit his lip. Could he tell Hanamaki?

Hanamaki tilted his head questioningly, his face open and curious as he waited for Suga to continue.

“I used to have a crush on him.” Suga admitted slowly, figuring it was safe to do that much.

“Oh?” Hanamaki raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting for Suga to continue. “Do you still have a crush on him?” Hanamaki inquired, his eyes very much studying Suga, probably filing away every single twitch of a muscle on his face.

Suga bit his lip again, still unsure if he could admit his fond feelings towards Oikawa to one of his closest friends.

“You can’t tell him,” Suga said cautiously, whispering the words in the air between them, like it would keep his words from traveling into the wrong hands or ears.

“So, you do like him,” Hanamaki stated, turning his head to look straight ahead.

Suga sighed and rested his head to the side against the pizzeria’s wall. It was probably all dusty and smoky from the wood burning oven, but Suga didn’t care. He worried the edge of his jacket sleeve with his fingers, wondering if he made a mistake in revealing this to Hanamaki.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell Oikawa,” Hanamaki said after a short silence and Suga whipped his head to the side to look at him. “But you should,” he urged softly, still looking ahead.

“I can’t,” Suga said quietly.

Hanamaki turned his head to look at Suga. “Why not?” he asked genuinely, like he really cared to know, but wouldn’t divulge the information.

“I’m afraid,” Suga admitted, still speaking quietly, refusing to meet Hanamaki’s eyes.

“Of what?”

“Getting hurt again.”

Hanamaki didn’t say anything to that. He probably didn’t _have_ anything to say to that. And that was perfect. Suga didn’t need him to. He didn’t need any meaningless and empty reassurances that he wouldn’t get hurt, because no one could know that for sure. Anything could happen, at any given moment.

All Suga was sure of was that he wasn’t ready to face that possibility yet. And if Oikawa started to date someone else while Suga was still too afraid to admit his real feelings for him, then so be it. Suga had made his peace with that fact, yet continued to hope that he wouldn’t have to see that happen.

In any case, who knew what would come to happen after Oikawa’s graduation. He would surely find a job, and that could take him anywhere. Maybe they would stop being roommates at some point.

“Wouldn’t it be better that he knew though?” Hanamaki asked. “You don’t have to date him, if you’re afraid to commit to him. But it might be good that he knows you like him.”

Suga sighed, and got up when their order was called. “No.” Suga decided and shook his head in case Hanamaki didn’t hear him.

“Then why do you keep flirting with Oikawa, if you’re not going to tell him how you really feel towards him?” Hanamaki inquired further into the topic. Suga wasn’t sure if he appreciated him for that or not.

But he smiled sincerely, when he answered as they picked up the pizzas and were on their way out. “Because it’s fun.”

“Why do I get the sense that getting hurt isn’t the only reason for you to not confess your feelings to Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked once they faced the cold drizzle again. Hanamaki pulled his hood on, pulling the strings tight and tying them so he looked like a proper Eskimo with his fur lined hood.

Suga smiled at the vision, but got serious quickly because he was slowly becoming aware that Hanamaki was smarter than he let on.

“You’re right,” Suga admitted, adjusting his hold on the pizza boxes. “It’s not the only reason, but it’s the most compelling one I have.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actively trying to come up with reasons not to be with Oikawa,” Hanamaki said incredulously.

“I’m not,” Suga assured him. “I worded it weirdly, I’m sorry.”

“What’s the other reason, then?” Hanamaki jumped ahead. He was clearly impatient to get to bottom of things.

Suga looked ahead and saw their building growing taller and taller with every step he took towards it. “It’s this building,” Suga levelled with Hanamaki. “It’s our neighbors and the way everyone tends to think that everything is their business.”

“Oh,” Hanamaki said quietly, looking up at their building as well.

“Please, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying here,” Suga hurried to explain, because Hanamaki looked a little hurt. “I love you all, I truly care about everyone. But I also know that if Oikawa and I started dating, everyone would be watching everything closely and wouldn’t talk about anything else for the first month or so.”

A small smile hovered on Hanamaki’s lips when he looked back at Suga. “We care about you too,” he said.

This wasn’t the first time that Suga noticed and wondered about the use of ‘we’ whenever Hanamaki or Matsukawa spoke about themselves. They tended to do it, no matter what the subject was. It was always _both of them_ that thought something or did something. Suga wondered how that had initially happened, who had used the term first.

“Maybe it would be different if we lived somewhere else, or in separate apartments,” Suga hypothesized. He hadn’t realized how badly he had needed and wanted to talk about Oikawa with someone. He found himself unable to stop now, and was kind of glad now that Hanamaki had asked about it in the pizzeria.

“Can’t you just tell everyone to butt out?” Hanamaki suggested then, and took a couple of steps ahead of Suga to open the building’s front door.  

“That sounds rude,” Suga stated simply, and thanked Hanamaki for holding the door open for him.

Hanamaki hummed with amusement about Suga’s statement, and followed him up the stairs.

“It’s your life, your relationship. If you’re happy in it, what does it matter what others think or say? And you’re allowed to tell everyone to back off, if you want to enjoy being with someone in peace and without outside influence,” Hanamaki spoke with self-assurance and Suga whole-heartedly agreed with him.

Unfortunately, their neighbors weren’t the only reason behind Suga’s hesitation. “I’m still not going to tell Oikawa,” Suga said decisively at the first landing, next to Asahi’s door. He was still scared of ending up hurt, and confused about Oikawa’s actions and words.

“It’s your call,” Hanamaki said with a shrug, but he looked a bit regretful about it. He was right, though. It was Suga’s call whether he confessed to Oikawa or not, and at the moment, he had decided not to say anything.

They were already at their apartment’s door when Suga stopped and turned to look at Hanamaki seriously. “You really can’t tell Oikawa any of this,” he repeated to make sure that Hanamaki understood the significance and importance that Oikawa wouldn’t find out.

“I know,” Hanamaki assured him and put a reassuring hand on Suga’s shoulder. “I won’t.”

With a satisfied nod, Suga pushed the door open.

“We’re back,” Hanamaki called out immediately, more jovially than their silent conversation just seconds ago in the building’s stairwell showed him to have been.

Suga closed the front door after them and took off his shoes before he followed Hanamaki further into the apartment and then went to the kitchen to put the pizza boxes down on the island.

“That was quick,” Matsukawa observed, untying the strings on Hanamaki’s jacket’s hood.

“The pizzeria wasn’t busy,” Hanamaki replied as he shrugged his jacket off and gave a kiss to his boyfriend, who accepted with a happy smile.

Suga wanted to look away, because the moment the two of them shared seemed intimate, but was unable to do so because he realized that he wanted that too. Companionship. If only he could live without doubts, but life didn’t work like that.

“Four pizzas? Really?” Oikawa asked from Suga when he came to stand next to him by the kitchen island, his hand feather light on Suga’s back.

“Makki insisted,” Suga said, completely aware of the large size of the pizzas. “At least there’ll be leftovers,” he added with a shrug and turned to look at Oikawa. He tried to hide his delighted smile when he took note of Oikawa’s more than just a little disheveled appearance and he wondered what had happened while he and Hanamaki were gone.  

“That’s true,” Oikawa complied with him, his hand dropping away from Suga’s back, and he instantly wanted it back there.

“Can you set everything ready in here?” Suga asked, trying to focus on something else than missing Oikawa’s touch. “I want to go change out of my pajamas.” He was wearing his blue checkered flannel trousers, an old t-shirt and a quickly pulled-on hoodie that Suga was quite sure was actually Oikawa’s.

Oikawa looked at him up and down, taking note of Suga’s clothes. “Did Hanamaki push you out of the door dressed in your pajama pants?”

“It’s fine,” Suga assured with a casual wave of his hand. “It’s not the first time I’ve gone out in these.”  

Oikawa hummed, like he wanted to ask about it.

“I’ll be right back,” Suga said, not giving Oikawa the chance to ask more about his habit of sometimes going out in his pajamas, and hurried to his room, brushing against Oikawa’s back when he went past him.

 

...

 

Oikawa looked after Suga until he disappeared from view down the hallway, wondering whether Suga had brushed against him on purpose or not. The feel of Suga’s hand gliding across his back was distracting him, and he couldn’t, as much as he tried to, to focus on anything else. He replayed the swift moment again and again in his head, feeling Suga’s fleeting touch over and over again.

“Oikawa,” Matsukawa asked for his attention. “Your crush is showing.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes and turned to look at his friends, filing the feel he was playing on a loop in his head for later. He decided to ignore Matsukawa, for selfish reasons, and instead meant his question for Hanamaki. “How’d it go with Suga?”

“Fine,” Hanamaki answered breezily. “He’s easy to get along with.”

“I know,” Oikawa said with a nod and a pleased smile. It was nice that his friends got along with Suga and that Suga got along with his friends. That was important to Oikawa.

“What did you two talk about?” Matsukawa asked.

“Movies,” Hanamaki answered. “Marvel movies to be exact. That reminds me, what movie did you two pick for us to watch?”

“Oikawa wanted to watch Star Wars.”

“Big surprise,” Hanamaki stated, unaffected by the non-surprise.

“I told him there was no way we’re watching any of the Star Wars movies, and suggested a comedy. And that’s when Oikawa started to use Jedi mind tricks to try and change my mind.” Matsukawa made up the story on the fly, but Oikawa didn’t object. If they’d had the time, he probably would have used Jedi mind tricks. Or at least tried to.

An amused smile brightened Hanamaki’s face. “Did it work?”

“Of course not,” Matsukawa scoffed.

“I don’t understand what you have against Star Wars movies,” Oikawa piped up. “You know you love them.”

“Don’t tell me we’re watching Star Wars,” Suga spoke up and they all turned to look at him as he made his way to the kitchen again, and Oikawa noticed the camera in his hand. Was he planning on immortalizing some chosen moments spent with his friends again?

“What do you have against Star Wars?” Oikawa demanded to know. He thought Suga enjoyed them.

“I have nothing against them. I’ve just seen them about a hundred times, ninety-eight of them with you.” Suga answered.

“That’s a majority of votes against Star Wars,” Matsukawa pointed out. “That means we’re watching a comedy of my choice.”

“No, we’re not,” Hanamaki disagreed, and Oikawa was glad that he did.

“Why?” Matsukawa asked incredulously from him.

“No offence, but your taste in movies sucks.” Hanamaki smiled apologetically and extricated himself from Matsukawa and made his way to the shelf filled with movies.

“No it doesn’t,” Matsukawa argued, and Oikawa proceeded to tune their bickering out.

“Can I pick the movie?” Suga suggested like he almost meant it, raising his hand in the air like he was volunteering to answer a teacher’s question.

“No,” Oikawa refused and, when he noted Suga’s questioning look, proceeded to explain. “You’ll just pick a horror movie.” He leaned back against the stool by the island, not quite sitting on it.

“Not necessarily.” Suga smiled impishly.

“Really?” Oikawa doubted him. “What movie comes first to your mind if you could pick any movie for us to watch?”

Suga’s eyes moved to the side and up, like he was trying to think of something. “Titanic.”

Oikawa chuckled. “You just made that up.”

“Maybe,” Suga admitted, still smiling like he was planning something and enjoying himself immensely.

“Why do you have your camera with you?” Oikawa asked then, because it wasn’t completely out of the blue for Suga to have it with him, but it was also a little unusual. Suga didn’t spend much time snapping photos inside their apartment, unless it was someone’s birthday party.

“Photo opportunity,” Suga smirked and took a photo of Oikawa before he fully grasped the fact that said camera was pointed towards him.

Oikawa was blindsided for a fraction of a second, not fully understanding why Suga would be smiling like he had something up his sleeve, and then take a photo of him.

“See?” Suga came closer to Oikawa and showed the photo he had just taken. “Perfect opportunity,” he said while he kept smirking.

Oikawa blushed when he saw how his hair was askew and anything but immaculate. “Ah! Delete it,” he whined instantly, grasping for the camera, but Suga was already dancing away from him.

“No way, this is perfect.” Suga giggled, walking away and looking down at his camera and the photo with, to Oikawa’s surprise, fondness. “This is a keeper,” he said, smiling up at Oikawa.

Oikawa contemplated on springing up to snatch the camera away from Suga for less than a second before the realization finally set in him. He glanced at Matsukawa, and noticed the meaningful tilt and a nod of a head from Matsukawa.

“Fine, keep it, I don’t care,” Oikawa feigned the nonchalance, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Suga’s smile widened for a second before he lifted his camera, once again pointing it towards Oikawa.

“Ah! But don’t take more photos of me either,” he complained, shielding his messy hair from further documentation with his hands.

Suga giggled again while he looked at the new photo, and then put his camera down on the kitchen counter. “Come here,” he beckoned while simultaneously walking closer to Oikawa, his hand outstretched. Once he could reach Oikawa, he gently combed his fingers through Oikawa’s hair.

Oikawa was sure that Suga was setting his hair down, combing everything in place, so he didn’t complain - instead he just quietly observed Suga, loving how close he was standing.

“There,” Suga said with a satisfied nod once he was done and took a step back.

“Thanks,” Oikawa said with a smile, and then turned to look at his friends, who had been suspiciously quiet. They both had satisfied smirks on their faces, their arms crossed in front of their chest, looking at Oikawa and Suga like proud parents.

Oikawa would’ve asked them about it, but decided not to do so in front of Suga.

“Did you manage to pick a movie?” Suga asked, and Oikawa wondered if he had noticed his friends’ looks as well.

“Yep,” Hanamaki responded and pulled a DVD cover off the shelf, while Matsukawa simultaneously said “No.”

“We’re watching Titanic,” Hanamaki continued like Matsukawa hadn’t said a word.

Oikawa was more surprised that Suga owned the movie than he was that Hanamaki chose it.

“No, we’re not,” Matsukawa and Oikawa said at the same time.

Five more minutes of bickering later they had sat down to watch, you guessed it, Titanic.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa occupied one of the couches, sitting close and pressed against each other like any in-love couple would. Oikawa and Suga sat on the other one, Oikawa’s legs in Suga’s lap. Suga kept drawing nonsense patterns on his shins, and Oikawa was hit with waves of shivers and flutters, coming one after another. And in all honesty, Oikawa was more focused on watching Suga than the movie.  

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Suga’s gentle voice asked and Oikawa belatedly noticed that Suga was watching him back.

“You,” he answered smoothly and flashed a charming smile. It was the first time that he had been able to confidently admit it to Suga. Before, whenever Suga had caught him thinking about him, Oikawa had come up with a cover.                   

 Suga scoffed in response, but there was a soft smile tugging on the corners of his lips that he tried to hide by looking away towards the TV.

Oikawa bit down his own wide smile.

 _I’m always thinking about you,_ Oikawa added in his head, because it was the truth. Even when he was mostly focused on finishing his school, he sometimes got lost in thinking about Suga, again and again realizing how much he didn’t just like Suga, but wanted him, in so many ways.

 

...

 

The next day, Oikawa was both annoyed and satisfied. Last night had been fun, even though he had to sit through Titanic. Suga’s sarcastic nonstop commentary during the movie had made it much better, and Oikawa was somewhat pleased about Hanamaki’s crappy choice of movie. Even though there was no denying that the movie was a classic, it had become sort of a joke in some way, and sometimes Oikawa found it hard to truly care about the fate of Rose and Jack.

Last night had been fun and that was the cause of Oikawa’s underlying feeling of satisfaction. But he was also buzzing with the annoyed feeling traveling under his skin, because he wanted to keep working on his dissertation, but Suga had somehow convinced him to take a break.

“I’m going now,” Suga said when he emerged into the living room and Oikawa looked up to see him, silently groaning because it _hurt_ to see Suga in his dress shirt and pants.

“Don’t eat all the food,” Suga said to Kuroo and Bokuto, who were once again hanging in their living room for some unfathomable reason. Oikawa was convinced that they were there to keep him from studying per Suga’s request, but he had no way of proving it.

“We won’t,” Bokuto assured Suga. “Have fun at the gallery.”

“I’ll see you guys later.” Suga waved and with that he was gone. Oikawa was both glad that he had left, but also very much not happy about it at all. Even though it caused him physical pain to see Suga looking so unbelievably beautiful in his informal suit, he’d rather have Suga stay in the apartment than out somewhere flirting and bonding with Yamaguchi.

Bokuto bounced up immediately once the front door was closed and went to the kitchen, while Kuroo stayed in the living room with Oikawa, sipping his tea in pure contentment of existing in that calm moment. But Oikawa felt less so.

He waited with bated breath, just in case Suga doubled back if he forgot something. But when the front door stayed closed, he sat up straighter, planting his feet on the floor, and turned to address Kuroo. “I need to talk about Suga,” he confessed and was faced with an annoyed and incredulous look.

“Is that all we are to you nowadays? Just something you can dump all your feelings to because you’re too chicken to admit them to Suga?” Kuroo asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes to the first part, no to the second,” Oikawa said after some deliberation. “I really need to talk to someone.” Matsukawa’s yesterday’s words kept rattling inside Oikawa’s head and he needed some solid answers. And since Kuroo and Bokuto knew Suga better than Matsukawa and Hanamaki did, they’d have to do for now. Oikawa wasn’t about to call Daichi about this, no way no how. And even though Iwaizumi said Oikawa could talk to him about this stuff, it somehow felt weird. Plus, he wasn’t about to talk about this with Akiko voluntarily, and he wasn’t close enough with Asahi.

“Fine, lay it on me,” Kuroo said, motioning with his hand for Oikawa to continue, probably noticing the silent plea in Oikawa’s eyes.

Oikawa took a deep breath to talk calmly, and waited for a tense moment before he began. “I sometimes get this feeling that I want Suga.” He spoke slowly, and saying stuff that Kuroo and Bokuto already knew, but it was important for him to start with that. “It only lasts for a second and then it’s gone, but...”

“Sounds like you’re in love with him.” Kuroo mused after a beat.

“Everyone loves Suga,” Oikawa took a defensive tone because, in love? Oikawa wondered if... No, now was not the time to figure that out. Now he had to figure out Suga. “Who wouldn’t love Suga? Everyone in this building practically worships him. We all think that his radiant smile is a deity that needs a blood offering once a week,” Oikawa rambled.

Bokuto laughed in the kitchen.

Kuroo looked amused too. He sighed quietly, leaned forward in the armchair and put his cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of him.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Kuroo started, lacing his hands together in front of him. Oikawa instinctively leaned in closer to hear him better. “But Suga kind of feels the same way about you too.” Kuroo finished with hesitation.

“What?” Oikawa was more confused than anything. All this time, everyone had been so sure that Suga would respond in kind if Oikawa confessed that he liked him, and this was what they were basing it on? They knew? Absolutely certainly? Kuroo wasn’t just teasing him now, but being serious.

“You know he used to have a crush on you right?” Kuroo asked.

Oikawa did know that. Iwaizumi had told him, way back when, that Suga had a crush on him. “Yes, the operative word being used to,” he said, still confused where Kuroo was going with it.

“Yeah, um...” Kuroo scratched his nose and looked to Bokuto for backup.

“Suga still sort of wants to fuck you,” Bokuto said from the kitchen.

Oikawa twisted on the couch to look at the man with a frown. “What do you mean “sort of” and how do you know?” He was a little suspicious. There was no way they had just figured it out by observing Suga, because he certainly hadn’t – at least he wasn’t as confident about it as Kuroo and Bokuto seemed to be.

“Bokuto told me,” Kuroo said, thrusting the responsibility of revealing their source of information to him.

“I overheard Suga and Akaashi talking about it,” Bokuto confessed.

“And you’ve talked about it amongst yourselves?”

“A little.” Kuroo shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

“And when you said that you probably shouldn’t tell me this is because Suga asked Akaashi not to tell anyone?”

“Pretty much.” Kuroo bobbed his head a little with his words.

“And you just told me.”

“Pretty much.”

“To be honest, we thought that you two would’ve done the deed already,” Bokuto spoke conversationally, like their subject wasn’t blowing Oikawa’s mind, when he walked to the living room and sat down on the free couch with his sandwich.

“Why?” Oikawa asked. It didn’t make any sense. Sure, he and Suga were close, and had gotten even closer, but there was nothing sexual going on between them, nothing sensual in their touches or suggestive in their words.

Much.

Maybe a little, now that Oikawa really thought about it.

But even in those rare moments, the feeling had been fleeting. And he had very much suspected that it wasn’t mutual.

Bokuto only shrugged and bit into his sandwich.

“Okay, look,” Kuroo ran his hand through his hair, disheveling it even more, like he was deliberating on something. “If you want more than just sex with Suga, you have to do it right. I know that we’ve been teasing you about it and urging you to just kiss him. But if you do that, and not the confession, he’s going to think that you only want sex. I mean, if that’s all you want, go for it. Suga’s great at casual sex. And no, before you ask, I don’t know from personal experience, I’ve just witnessed it from afar during the years I’ve known Suga.”

Kuroo stopped his tangent to take a deep breath and leveled Oikawa with a serious look. “But if you want more than just sex with him, an actual caring and loving relationship, you have to do it right.”

“You have to tell him how you feel and ask him out on a date.” Bokuto informed him.

“And he’ll say yes to either one of those options, believe me,” Kuroo added as he reached for his cup of tea again and took a slow sip.

Oikawa wanted to believe him, every cell in his body yearned for Kuroo’s words to be true, that Suga would say yes if he were to ask him out. But...

But there was still uncertainty lingering in Oikawa’s mind. He was comfortable with everything as it was and he didn’t want to rock the boat, so to speak, by revealing his deepest feelings to Suga. Not knowing was killing Oikawa, and he knew that it would be better to know, even if Suga didn’t feel the same way – although everyone had already pointed out that Suga did feel the same way about him.

He was just... Scared. If he was being honest, he was petrified, so he always held his tongue, convinced himself that it wasn’t the right time to tell Suga. He was afraid that he’d lose one of his closest friends in the process of telling him his true feelings. And he truly thought it was better, so much better, to have Suga like this, as his friend, than not at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this before if you knew about it?” Oikawa demanded to know.

“Honestly,” Kuroo started with an uncharacteristically sheepish expression. “We thought it’d be fun to tease you and to see how long it would take for you to finally profess your love towards Suga.”

“But it stopped being fun when we noticed how miserable you were pining after him,” Bokuto confessed.

“When did you realize that?” Oikawa asked. He didn’t think that he’d showed any outwards appearance of misery, but there was no knowing for sure what kind of emotions were expressed on his face whenever Suga was around or did something that caused a reaction in Oikawa.

“A couple of days ago,” Kuroo answered. “When Suga made the comment about not having sex.”

“We could see your expression when you pulled Suga to sit next to you and how you clung on to him.” Bokuto divulged. Oikawa wasn’t sure what kind of expression he had had on for Kuroo and Bokuto to worry about it, but he was kind of glad, nonetheless.

Maybe they’d finally stop teasing him, and let him be, Oikawa thought hopefully, already knowing that that wouldn’t be the case. Somehow, _just somehow,_ he knew that Kuroo and Bokuto would just become more involved. 

“How is it that you’re both so privy to such intimate details about Suga’s life anyway?” Oikawa thought to ask. He had wondered about it before. “Has he talked to you two about it that much? Really?” Oikawa suspected that Suga would, even though Suga was close with them, but he figured that anything was possible.

“We’ve known Suga for years,” Kuroo said with a shrug, but it was too overdone to be genuine. “We’ve seen him go through a lot of stuff.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes and shifted his suspicious gaze to Bokuto. “Someone has loose lips,” he stated, not accusing anyone, just knowing the fact of it. Oikawa was aware, even though Suga never talked about it, that he tended to talk with Akaashi. About anything. Oikawa made a conscious leap and connected the two dots between Kuroo and Bokuto’s knowledge and where they were getting all their intel.

Bokuto licked his lips before a knowing smirk spread on his lips. “You have no idea,” he levelled. “His pillow talk is very gossip-y.”

Just from looking at Akaashi, no one would be able to tell, but as Oikawa had gotten to know him better over the months, it wasn’t hard to believe Bokuto’s statement to be true.

“And you relay every piece of information you hear from Akaashi to Kuroo?” Oikawa asked, to make sure he was right. He liked being right. It probably wasn’t his most attractive quality, but luckily he had some good traits too that outweighed the bad ones.

Bokuto didn’t look even a little ashamed as he confirmed it. “Of course I do.”

Kuroo was nodding along.

“We’re best friends.” Bokuto stated the obviousness like he couldn’t believe that he’d have to do that anymore to someone like Oikawa, who could see everything. “We share everything with each other.” Bokuto added, and lifted his hand up for a high five which Kuroo returned eagerly.

Oikawa resisted an eye roll as he leaned back against the back of the couch. “Of course you do.”

Even though Kuroo and Bokuto looked pleased about themselves, probably for not getting scolded for divulging gossip so freely, Oikawa didn’t feel confident.

Yes, he now had this new information, that apparently Suga liked him too, to the degree that Suga _wanted_ him. But Oikawa still couldn’t fight the thought of uncertainty and slight apprehension. What if they were wrong?

 

...

 

”Congratulations,” Suga said to Yamaguchi when he finally found the man of the hour. The gallery was somewhat busy, which wasn’t surprising when one took even the quickest glance at Yamaguchi’s paintings.

Yamaguchi’s smile was shy when he said, “Thank you Sugawara-san.”

“You really can call me Suga,” he told Yamaguchi patiently.

“I know,” Yamaguchi confirmed. “I’m just used to calling you Sugawara-san. And you keep calling me Yamaguchi-san.”

“Because that’s your name,” Suga stated simply. “And you haven’t told me what else I can call you.”

“You can call me anything,” Yamaguchi spoke fast, and then clammed up like he was embarrassed that he had said the words. “Yamaguchi is fine,” he added quietly, looking everywhere but at Suga, who was trying his best not to show how amused he was off Yamaguchi’s slip. “Or Tadashi.” Yamaguchi added and coughed into his fist awkwardly.

“And you can call me Suga,” he said again, flashing a kind smile, trying to ease his shyness.

Yamaguchi opened his mouth, probably to say something, but didn’t get the chance to voice it when an art critic Suga recognized came over to them.

“Your art is very beautiful,” the man said and shook Yamaguchi’s hand. The man was less a critic and more an avid fan, but Suga had long decided to call him ‘a critic’ since he always seemed to have some sort of opinion about art. “So full of vibrant colors,” the man kept praising. “It’s like you perfectly painted someone’s happy soul on the canvas.”

Yamaguchi thanked the man with a confident and bright smile, the earlier shyness he exhibited around Suga suddenly gone.

Suga wondered about it again. How was Yamaguchi so self-assured around others, but it took three shy glances for Yamaguchi to face Suga fully. So, once the ‘art critic’ was gone, Suga decided to ask.

“Why are you so shy around me?” he asked bluntly and Yamaguchi’s eyes practically bulged with surprise. Or maybe with apprehension that his shyness was pointed out. Suga wasn’t quite sure which scenario was more probable, and couldn’t delve further into figuring it out before Yamaguchi dropped his gaze to his shoes.

“I apologize for asking like this,” Suga said softly, kicking himself for being so straightforward earlier. “I’m just curious to know.”

Yamaguchi chewed his bottom lip, a nervous habit, and Suga waited patiently for him to say something, anything. Suga was getting worried that he had offended Yamaguchi with his question. And he really didn’t want that. He actually wanted for him and Yamaguchi to be friends. Just friends.

“Kuroo thinks,” Suga started and then stopped. “You know who Kuroo is, right?” He wanted to make sure and Yamaguchi nodded, still looking down and away.

“Tsukki’s boyfriend,” he answered.

“Yes, him,” Suga nodded as well. “He thinks that you’re shy around me because you have a thing for me,” he said carefully, watching for Yamaguchi’s reaction for being called out like that.

Yamaguchi looked up in surprise. Suga was sure that this time it was surprise. But it was more baffled than embarrassed.

“He thinks I like you?” Yamaguchi asked for clarification.

“Yes,” Suga answered. “But from your reaction I take it that that’s not the case,” he said with a relieved sigh and put his hands into his pants’ pockets.

“No.” Yamaguchi shook his head once. “Sorry.” He smiled apologetically.

“Don’t be,” Suga waved away his apology and smiled to reassure Yamaguchi that there was no need for it. “But, why are you so shy around me then?” Suga asked, not understanding it at all, since the one and only plausible explanation Kuroo had given him turned out to be wrong.

“Well, it’s,” Yamaguchi started, awkwardly shuffling his feet, his voice wavering a little, but he was interrupted when another art lover came to congratulate him.

Suga waited until Yamaguchi had traded the pleasantries with the woman. He almost regretted asking Yamaguchi now, since he seemed a little uncomfortable talking about it, but he didn’t get the chance to take his question back before the art lover was gone, leaving the two of them alone, and Yamaguchi started to explain again.

“When I was in uni, I had this professor,” Yamaguchi said and he lowered his voice so no one around them could overhear their conversation. Suga leaned in instinctively to hear him better. “And he was so in love with art, your photos in particular. He took our class to one of your exhibits once, and during the next class he raved about your work and artistry and skill.”

Suga couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, because he disagreed about his ‘skill’. Yamaguchi didn’t seem to notice as he continued his story.

“He spoke so enthusiastically about your use of light and shadow and so on that I couldn’t not listen. I... I kind of...” Yamaguchi faltered with his words.

A soft smile spread on Suga’s face as he understood. “Did you fall for him?”

Yamaguchi looked at him, unguarded for the first time ever, something fragile about the way the answer and feeling behind it was plainly written across his face. “Yes,” he breathed out, took the closest glass of wine and downed it in one long gulp.

“Whenever I saw your photos after I left school, I was reminded of him,” Yamaguchi admitted quietly, looking down to the bottom of the wine glass like he was contemplating if he could drown himself in the few drops that remained. “And when I saw you I was always reminded of the way he talked and how I fell in love with his enthusiastic way of describing something. He was so passionate about art and... It was amazing, listening to him. I always felt like I really understood him, you know?” Yamaguchi glanced up to look at Suga, who softly closed his eyes along with his nod. Because Suga knew how that felt. He felt that very feeling whenever he was with Oikawa. He would gladly listen to Oikawa talk about aliens or space or stars and constellations, or anything really now that Suga thought about it, and feel perfectly content.

“Does he know?” Suga asked quietly. He was very much aware of the fragile atmosphere that surrounded only him and Yamaguchi in middle of the buzzing and chattering crowd in the gallery.

“I never told him.”

“Do you still love him?” Suga asked kindly.

Yamaguchi answered with a nod.

Suga sighed. Yamaguchi was still clearly in love with his professor. “That sucks,” Suga offered his honest opinion. Because, somehow he could feel himself relate.

“Yeah, it does,” Yamaguchi agreed with him. “But I’m working on it, trying to get over him. I’ve been dating other people.”

Suga smiled encouragingly and contemplated on giving Yamaguchi a one-sided hug, but decided against it. This wasn’t the place for that, and he got the feeling that Yamaguchi didn’t want any pity.

“Why did Kuroo and Tsukishima-san think that you had a thing for me then?” Suga thought to ask.

Yamaguchi shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of used to talk about you a lot whenever I talked about my professor, because he talked about you a lot.” He looked around him, seemingly not focusing on anything in particular. “They probably just latched on your name, because they could recognize it, you know,” Yamaguchi hypothesized with another shrug.

And he was probably right. Suga was quite aware of his neighbors’ nosy habits, and their way of butting in on anything, even if it wasn’t any of their concern. They had probably just seen a way to meddle and taken the opportunity without thinking of the possible consequences, as they usually did.

Suga let his own eyes wander around in the space as well, wondering if he had by any chance met this infamous professor. “May I ask the professor’s name?” he dared to ask when he had made a circle with his eyes and his gaze landed back to Yamaguchi.

“Why?” Yamaguchi asked with a funny uncomprehending smile on his lips and a baffled look in his eyes.

“I want to check out this class he teaches.” Suga shrugged, his hands still stuffed into his pockets. “Maybe sneak in so I can hear all the praise that he says about my work,” he joked.

Thankfully Yamaguchi caught it.

“As if you would voluntarily go somewhere to hear others compliment your photos,” Yamaguchi said with an amused scoff. The atmosphere of their uncomfortable and admittedly awkward conversation was dissipating, as Suga hoped it would. He was pleased to see Yamaguchi looking at ease with him.

“Just tell me his name,” Suga teased. “I bet I recognize it, if he really does come to my exhibits.”

Yamaguchi took a deep inhale, and seemed to deliberate whether to divulge the professor's name. “Makoto Shimada,” he admitted, looking down and away from Suga, probably trying to hide his blush that Suga could see dusting on his ears.

The name was vaguely familiar to Suga, and once he thought about it, he could remember a middle aged male with dark hair and glasses, giving the air of a professor, introducing himself to Suga at his very first exhibit.

“You have good taste,” Suga flashed a smile at Yamaguchi, who blushed even more. The professor might’ve not been Suga’s ‘type’ per se, but there was no denying that he was good looking in a sweet way.

“Does he come to your exhibits?” Suga asked, once again carefully.

“He does,” Yamaguchi admitted, just as carefully.

“That doesn’t really help with getting over him, does it?”

“No,” Yamaguchi agreed with a dark chuckle. “But he’s married, and that knowledge does help.”

“Hm, good,” Suga said, and looked around again, not looking for any particular face, but wondering if he could spot one.

“He’s not here now,” Yamaguchi said, guessing correctly the reason for Suga’s wandering eyes.

“But he was here?”

Yamaguchi nodded again and picked up another glass of wine, putting the empty one away with his other hand.

“Since talking with me reminds you of him, do you want to not be friends?”

Yamaguchi looked stricken for a moment, but got over it quickly. “No, no. I do want to be friends. It helps that you know now, and it helped to be able to talk about it.”

Suga smiled, relieved that he hadn’t lost this blossoming friendship. “I’m glad,” he said. “And you can continue talking to me about this. I’m a good listener, a great shoulder to lean on.”

“Thank you,” Yamaguchi said, his nervousness and shyness completely gone and replaced with a confident posture.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise we're moving forward, I just wanted to address all the fears and uncertainties that Oikawa and Suga think about. 
> 
> Was anyone surprised at all about the Yamaguchi-thing? Did someone maybe guess it correctly? 
> 
> In case anyone is wondering, everyone in the building talks about Suga and Oikawa amongst themselves. That's why every character has the same information about what's going on between Suga and Oikawa even if they weren't there to witness it happen.  
> And they're all in on a bet of how long it'll take for Suga or Oikawa to confess.  
> There is also a bet of how it'll happen, but I'll get into it more later ;) 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> "Did you just slap my butt?"


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The working title for this chapter was "dogs in party hats", as in actual cute little puppy dogs in actual party hats. Regretfully I wasn't able to write any dogs into this, so it became... this *vague hand gestures to confuse you even more* 
> 
> Enjoy ;)
> 
> Oh, when you get to it, ankka = duck

 

 

 _I hate my life,_ Oikawa thought as he saw Suga pet Kuroo’s head, chanting “fluffy, fluffy, fluffy,” over and over again in a reverent whisper.

 _Kill me now,_ he thought when he watched Suga dance to a peppy song with swaying hips and a beautiful smile like he knew he was being watched.

 _This is torture, just end me now,_ he thought when Suga got a drink spilled on him and he proceeded to take his shirt off, in full view for Oikawa to see, before he disappeared in his bedroom to get a clean and dry shirt.

If drunk-Suga was beyond adorable and sweet when Oikawa was alone with him, drunk-Suga around others was a new kind of hell. There was too much cuteness happening without a break, and Oikawa really was struggling. Kuroo’s latest reveal of Suga wanting him didn’t help at all. Oikawa had no idea whether Suga was doing what he was doing on purpose or not.

Oikawa had been happy that morning when Suga made his promise to get a little drunk. But he hadn’t expected to be dead before midnight when Suga came to wake him up.

 

...

 

“Wake up.”

Oikawa could hear the words, but they held zero meaning to him. At the moment he was too preoccupied with other things, sweeter and better things than waking up. He was dreaming. It might’ve been Suga he was dreaming about, but that wasn’t important to know to move this story along.

“Wake up, Oikawa.” Oikawa heard the same voice again and tried his best to ignore it. He really did try, until a weight landed on his back and he let out an involuntary “unf” because of it.

“Wake up,” was sang into his ear and he finally recognized that the voice belonged to Suga.

“Go away,” was Oikawa’s mumbled reply to Suga’s sweet attempt to wake him up. He didn’t really mean it. It just was that in his dream he could be with Suga in a way that he couldn’t be with him in real life.

“Don’t you know what day it is?” Suga asked, seemingly unaffected by Oikawa’s rude words.

“No, and I don’t care.” Oikawa pulled his pillow to cover his head. His momentary shelter from the bright light shining through his window was snatched away quickly and he felt Suga move to sit on his back – he was quite sure those were Suga’s legs on both sides of him – right before he was hit with the pillow on his head.  

“It’s Matsukawa’s birthday,” Suga informed him. But Oikawa didn’t care about other people’s birthdays when he was supposed to be sleeping.

“So, get up,” Suga urged him, not too softly anymore, clearly getting a little frustrated at Oikawa’s uncooperativeness. He reinforced his words with a solid smack at Oikawa’s butt – that was still covered with his comforter like the rest of him was – when he got up to stand next to Oikawa’s bed.

“No,” Oikawa grumbled against his other pillow, pulling it closer to him. He heard a short sigh next to him, but other than that it was quiet in his room. He was certain Suga had given up by then, understanding that he wasn’t going to get up before he was ready to. He was already falling back asleep, not even ten seconds since he heard the sigh, when someone grabbed his ankle, surprising him, and pulled him off the bed halfway. He had been too preoccupied with chasing after his dreams to consider the following facts: his roommate was Suga; Suga really wanted him to get up; and Suga was capable of doing a myriad of things to accomplish that.

Oikawa just hadn’t expected Suga to actually drag him off the bed.

“Mean, Suga-chan,” Oikawa whined when he took stock of his new position. His legs were off the bed, quite a feat for Suga to manage in Oikawa’s opinion, and only his upper half was lying on the bed.

“Get up,” Suga said again and nudged at Oikawa’s side.

“No,” Oikawa disagreed, just because, and made a show of falling back asleep where he was hanging.  

Next Suga pulled off his covers, and Oikawa whined a little more. He was getting grumpy. Why was Suga being so cruel to him this morning?

“So, so, mean,” Oikawa said with a pout. He wasn’t above playing dirty, not when Suga had started the whole thing, knowing he could get what he wanted with that pout. A moment later he felt Suga come next to him and he opened his eyes to see Suga kneeling on the floor, his arms crossed on Oikawa’s bed and his head resting on them. His eyes were studying Oikawa, a contemplative look in them. If Oikawa had been more awake, he would’ve paid more attention to it.

“We’re getting drunk tonight, Oikawa.” Suga spoke softly, smiling sweetly like an angel.

“We?” Oikawa asked. “Does that mean that you’re getting drunk too?” he continued hopefully, his head lifting up off the bed.

“I could drink,” Suga kept smiling like the angel he usually was, disarming Oikawa completely.

A slow, pleased smile spread on Oikawa’s lips. “You know what Suga-chan? You’ve convinced me.”

“And all it took was ten minutes of convincing and a promise to get drunk,” Suga said with an exasperated sigh and got up.

“I’m a man of simple pleasures.”

Suga scoffed, sounding more amused than anything else. “Since when?”

“Since always.” Oikawa pretended to be offended.

“Just get up, already,” Suga urged again and a second later Oikawa felt a smack on his ass, again. His eyes widened when he realized what had just happened, and that it wasn’t the first that morning.

“Did you just slap my ass?” Oikawa asked incredulously, looking over his shoulder at Suga’s furthering back.

“Yes, I did,” Suga answered easily, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, get up,” he added right before he exited Oikawa’s room.

Oikawa lowered his head back on his bed, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Suga. Just. Slapped. His. Ass. And seemed to be totally cool about the whole thing.

With the confusion along the lines of _‘What was Suga doing?’_ at the back of his mind, Oikawa contemplated whether to get up, or wait to see if Suga came back to harass him more.

He almost hoped for the latter to happen, but decided that it was probably in his best interest to get up, so he did it slowly and with a mighty yawn. As much as he probably would’ve loved for Suga to come back and use some force Oikawa had no idea Suga possessed to kick his butt into gear, he knew it would just cause more confusion. He distractedly threw the covers back on his bed and made his way change his clothes.

It took some time when Oikawa was tired and hadn’t had his daily dose of caffeine, but somehow he was able to gather his thoughts and represent a human in the society again. Once he was fresh from the shower and dressed in something else than his pajamas, Oikawa went to the kitchen. He was pleasantly surprised to find a fresh and steaming cup of coffee placed on the kitchen island next to a delicious looking milk bread, and Suga humming along to a song that was quietly playing, like background music in a scene in a movie, while he was decorating yet another cake.

If Oikawa really wanted to, he could count how many cakes Suga had already made for everyone’s birthdays so far, but – as mentioned earlier he hadn’t had any caffeine yet – didn’t try to do so and instead asked, “What is it with you and cakes?”

Suga turned around from the counter to look at him. “You took your time.”

Deciding to sidestep Suga’s comment, Oikawa went to sit down. “Did you make me this breakfast?” he asked, and sipped the coffee. He couldn’t stop the contented sigh from escaping his lips when he tasted perfection.

Suga glanced over his shoulder, but turned away quickly with an almost imperceptive smile and “No.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa said however. He knew Suga had done it, but it didn’t mean that he knew _why_ Suga had done it. Was Suga trying to tell him something with his actions? Was he trying to tell Oikawa that he liked him? Or was Suga just being nice? The same sweet roommate he had had since the beginning?

“You’re welcome,” Suga answered in his normal tone, and Oikawa could hear his kind smile in it. “Let me know if the coffee’s too cold. I poured it when I heard you exit the shower.”

“Why are you so nice?” Oikawa wondered. He hadn’t been anything but bratty to Suga when he had been woken up. And yet Suga had gone above and beyond to make coffee and milk bread for him.

“Maybe I’m just buttering you up.” Suga smiled mischievously when he glanced at Oikawa again, his hands expertly moving to beautify the cake. The smile was too cute for Oikawa to feel any wariness.

“For what?” he asked with a smile, enjoying his breakfast in an almost blissful state of mind.

“Reasons,” Suga answered as he finished with the cake. He turned it around on the counter, probably looking for flaws or calculating the need for more whipped cream. When he didn’t seem to find any, he went to put the finished cake to the fridge.

“Could you be more cryptic?” Oikawa asked, following closely every move Suga made, while simultaneously enjoying his breakfast.  

“Yes,” Suga said simply, carefully closing the fridge at the same time. “Ankka.”

Oikawa made a small delighted sound, not recognizing the word, but feeling quite sure that Suga was using their alien language that still wasn’t invented.  

He leaned his cheek onto his open palm and sight dreamily. “I love you.” He meant those three words, to some degree, but was unable to stop them in mid-air when he realized what he said.

“Of course you do,” Suga replied like he was stating a fact, but it still wasn’t quite right. Oikawa couldn’t bring himself to mind that Suga once again didn’t get it. After all, it wasn’t the right moment. He knew Suga wouldn’t get it when he had said the words so casually, and decided to move on so Suga wouldn’t get caught up in pondering what he had meant. It wasn’t _the right time_ for confessions.

“So, since Makki wanted to throw a party for Mattsun, he asked if we could have the party here,” Suga spoke conversationally, as if something very important hadn’t been said just seconds ago, when he came to lean on the other side of the island, leaning into it with his hands right across from Oikawa. “Want to help with the decorations?”

“Why am I helping you?” Oikawa asked.

“You need to have more fun.” Suga nodded decisively.

Oikawa raised his eyebrows. “I _need_ to?”

“You’re an overachiever,” Suga started to list and Oikawa made a sound of disagreement and protest immediately. “You’re a perfectionist.” Suga continued to count down with his fingers. “You need a break from your dissertation or you’ll get tunnel vision.”

“I’m too clever to get tunnel vision,” Oikawa disagreed, sounding haughty even to his own ears, finishing his coffee.

“But it’s two against one, and we’re right and you’re wrong.”

“We?” Oikawa asked with a confused frown. He put down his cup and pushed it and the now empty plate away from him. “Who is ‘we’?”

“Me and Kumamon,” Suga answered straight away like it should’ve been obvious. “Kumamon agrees with me.”

Oikawa glanced at the Kumamon that still stood at the end of their couch, and smiled. “You’re weird,” Oikawa stated fondly when he turned to look at Suga again.

“Kumamon always agrees with me,” Suga repeated and then turned away from Oikawa with a satisfied smile on his lips, making his way around the island.  “Now, come on, let’s get to work.” He motioned with his hand for Oikawa.

Oikawa knew there was a way to get Suga come to him, so he remained where he was, only following Suga with his eyes. He was rewarded with nothing but his own silent gloating when he was right, since Suga made his way to him and pulled on his arm.

“Come on,” Suga urged, pulling Oikawa to stand up. “You slept through the whole day and we don’t have much time.” Suga spoke, taking a hold of Oikawa’s hand.

Oikawa tried to hide his satisfied smirk, following Suga to the living room, his hand still held gently in Suga’s.  

“Did you stay up late with your dissertation again?” Suga asked worriedly, letting go off Oikawa’s hand once they got to the coffee table that was covered under empty balloons and rolls of streamers and everything else festive and colorful that one might use to exaggerate their need for decorations.

“No,” Oikawa lied. He had been awake to see the time at 4:40, rewriting sections of his mostly finished work.

“You just thought it would be fun to sleep until two in the afternoon?” Suga asked with a quirked eyebrow that Oikawa found both fascinating and a little judgmental.

Suga seemed to know that Oikawa had been lied, but it didn’t stop Oikawa from continuing. He didn’t want Suga to think of him as a liar, but he also didn’t want Suga to know how obsessive he could get about the things he put all his efforts to.

“Yes,” he answered with a charming smile, aimed to disarm Suga and his intuitive and sometimes frighteningly observant brain. “And I enjoyed every second of the interrupted sleep that I got, thank you very much.”

“Alright,” Suga agreed with a small disapproving shake of his head. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

“I do,” Oikawa replied seriously, the smirk instantly disappearing from his lips. He wanted to assure Suga that he had everything under control, that he was fine, and that there was no need for anyone to worry about him – even though it was admittedly thoughtful of Suga to care.

Suga studied Oikawa for a moment, his eyes soft and wavering, as if he was debating between something. “At least it’s soon done and over with,” he said, worry lacing his tone so much that Oikawa felt bad for lying.

“That it is.”

Seeming to accept Oikawa’s words, Suga turned to pick up a roll of streamers and stepped up on to a kitchen chair – which he must’ve carried to the living room earlier – to blow streamers to hang from the ceiling lamp.

Oikawa watched Suga for a moment. It was almost astounding to him how Suga was able to put aside his own worries and wants in favor of letting Oikawa do what he wanted as he pleased. Suga seemed to understand that there was no turning Oikawa’s head, that there was no way to persuade him to do something he didn’t want to do – as in stop studying until he crashed with exhaustion. And Suga seemed to trust that ultimately Oikawa knew what he was doing.

It sometimes amazed Oikawa how much trust Suga put on him. Ever since the cake the two had shared together, he was certain Suga had never lied to him. The man was too sincere to be real and Oikawa honestly wondered if he deserved Suga. Not just as a possible boyfriend, but as a friend and roommate.

Oikawa felt a small twinge inside him, and he tried to steer his thoughts elsewhere, so he wouldn’t end up obsessing about Suga. The only direction left then was for him to think about his dissertation. He could probably recite the whole thing by now, having read and rewritten it so many times. His fingers started to itch with the want to type on his keyboard, rephrasing and editing every single detail all the way to the last period.

“Why are we even bothering with all these decorations?” Oikawa asked as he picked up a roll of streamers to give it to Suga. “We’ll end up throwing everything away anyway.” He wasn’t really complaining, but wanted justification for skipping working on his dissertation.

“Because it’s fun.” Suga answered much more cheerily than their earlier discussion suggested when he accepted the streamer and then blew it open over the lamp. There were enough streamers hanging from there to block any light if it was turned on. “And you think it’s fun too,” Suga added as he put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder to help himself jump down from the chair.

“Aren’t the lanterns we hung up for Makki’s birthday, that are still hanging from our curtain rods,” Oikawa gestured towards their windows and the brightly colored paper lanterns, “enough? Do we really need more?”

“Why are you so cranky?” Suga asked with an amused lilt in his voice and set on his lips. It was a fair question, since not so long ago they had been playfully bantering and then come to a peaceful agreement about Oikawa’s alarming habits of overworking. “Is it because I woke you up?”

“No, I enjoyed my wake up, thank you.” Oikawa replied sarcastically, overdoing it to comical proportions since he really did mean what he said. He had enjoyed his wake up call, and he enjoyed it more as he kept thinking about it – Suga sitting on him, being handsy with him and on top of everything slapping his butt.  

“Why are you so sarcastic?” Suga asked with a small worried frown that Oikawa didn’t like.

“I learnt it from you,” he cooed to turn Suga’s frown upside down.  

Suga chuckled at that – Oikawa was momentarily pleased with himself – and gave a soft push to Oikawa towards the coffee table to get more streamers for them to hang. Oikawa chuckled along when he went and was bending down to pick some up when Suga spoke again.

“If we get everything ready quickly you’ll have some time to study,” he said in a kind voice.

Oikawa turned to look at Suga with surprise. Had Suga somehow realized Oikawa’s want to work and study?

“Don’t look at me like that,” Suga chided quietly, face turned away from Oikawa to the point that Oikawa wondered how Suga had even noticed the way he was being looked at. “I know how important school and graduating is to you,” Suga continued conversationally.

Oikawa was suddenly ever so grateful that he had Suga in his life. Even though he often wished for more, just friends could be enough. At that very moment, Suga was too good for Oikawa – he was more than certain about it. And it didn’t help him from feeling even more in love with Suga.

“It is important to me,” Oikawa acknowledged Suga’s statement and went to give the streamers in his hand to Suga. “Thank you.”

Suga had a quizzical look on him when he took the streamers. “Why are you thanking me?”

“You’re a really good friend,” Oikawa stated the truth with utmost adoration that he didn’t feel the need to hide. He knew Suga wouldn’t catch it anyway.

How was it possible for Suga to pick up the smallest hints from Oikawa’s behavior and yet he couldn’t realize how much Oikawa liked and wanted and practically loved him?

Suga’s responding smile was shy and kind and beautiful.

So what if Oikawa wasn’t able to keep working on his dissertation at that moment? Suga’s smile and presence was more than enough to make up for it. With that thought, Oikawa pushed his dissertation out of his mind until they were done decorating, taking their time with it of course. There was something so satisfying just spending time together, and Oikawa didn’t even care to wonder why Suga seemed to think the same.

About thirty minutes later – who was really counting, a minute here or there – their apartment was so full of color it was almost shocking.

Suga blew one of the last streamers, that they didn’t have any place to put, at Oikawa and carefully wrapped it loosely around Oikawa’s neck. “There, perfect,” Suga said in a pleased voice.

“Put the camera away,” Oikawa warned immediately, knowing Suga was already reaching for it. The camera had been surreptitiously placed on one of the shelves in their living room before they had even begun decorating. Probably by Suga in preparation for what he called ‘perfect photo opportunities’, but Oikawa had dubbed ‘times to immortalize his friends doing something embarrassing’.

“But you look good,” Suga tried to convince him. He had his head tilted to the side, his eyes a little bigger than usual, like he knew it would work on Oikawa.

“No,” Oikawa said sternly, though. He wasn’t about to be persuaded to have a picture taken off him in middle of their funhouse-vibed living room with a part of it hanging around his neck like the room was trying to suffocate him with all the ‘fun’.  

“Why not? I want to remember this moment, you looking like this.” Suga continued persuading in a soft voice that Oikawa could feel already working on him. It was a little unfair that Suga could play him like that, although he was subconsciously aware that Suga was just as whipped for him when he acted all charming and flirty or pouty.

“Then remember it. You don’t need a photo of it.”

Suga dropped the hand holding the camera next to his side. “What if I get dementia when I’m old and I can’t remember? At least then I’ll have the photo.”

Oikawa was silent, crossing his arms in front of his chest in defiance, not ready to give in so quickly, even if Suga had a point.

“Okay,” Suga bit his lower lip in contemplation before he reached for another roll of a streamer. “You can wrap this around my neck and take a photo of it,” Suga suggested, holding the streamer on an open palm in front of Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa smiled widely instantly and took the offered streamer. “Deal,” he said with glee and blew the streamer at Suga’s face without any forewarning – because he was a child.

Suga scrunched his face, as Oikawa had anticipated he would, in a cute way and he continued to wrap the long streamer gently around Suga’s neck, just as loosely as Suga had wrapped around him.

“There, perfect,” he parroted Suga’s words and Suga’s face relaxed into an easy smile.

Suga took a photo first, quickly and too professionally for Oikawa to mimic with a hundred percent accuracy. But he did the best he could in framing Suga in the middle of it, as he tried not to laugh at the ridiculous and simultaneously cute pose Suga threw for it.

“There, now we are both immortalized,” Oikawa said as he handed the camera back to Suga.

“Great,” Suga replied with a nod and went to put the camera back where he had picked it up from.

“And you’re not allowed to delete the one I took of you,” Oikawa warned him lightly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Suga replied seriously and Oikawa believed him.

“Good.”

“Good,” Suga repeated Oikawa’s word and turned to look at him with a lovely smile. “You can go now,” he said softly and gestured with a head tilt towards the hallway. “I’ll finish with everything else.”

“Are you sure?” Oikawa asked, but was already about to take a step towards his room, and laptop, and his dissertation.

Suga nodded, “I got it, go.”

Oikawa didn’t need more incentive, but started to leave the living room. As he was passing Suga, Oikawa ran his hand from Suga’s shoulder down his arm to his hand. Their touch lingered there, and their hands held the hold until Oikawa had walked too far away for them to reach each other anymore.

 

If Oikawa had looked back when he made his way down the hallway, he would’ve seen Suga looking after him with almost heartbreaking longing.

But he didn’t look, so he would never know.

 

...

 

Oikawa emerged from his room a lot later, once the noise of people talking and music playing became too much for him to be able to concentrate.

He wasn’t even a little bit surprised to see their neighbors in their living room and kitchen, merrily laughing and generally having fun. There were a couple of familiar faces in the mix too, who didn’t live in the building, but he wasn’t surprised to see them either. He had anticipated Iwaizumi and Daichi to be there, and of course some of his old high school friends because for whatever reason, Hanamaki and Matsukawa still stayed in touch with them.

The alcohol, as expected, was laid out in the kitchen with the various snacks and the cake already in waiting for Matsukawa to be surprised. Someone had even brought and set up a Wii in their living room, the menu song of Just Dance playing from the speakers.

So, all in all, Oikawa wasn’t expecting much variety from the party to the previous ones they had had in their apartment.

Until he noticed a bottle of something that was undeniably alcoholic in Suga’s hand. As he had promised.

 

...

 

“Oikawa isn’t going to make it through tonight,” Kuroo stated with an evil smirk, and Daichi had to agree with him.

“I don’t think any of us are faring much better.”

“It’s been a while since the last time you saw Suga drunk, hasn’t it?” Kuroo asked with a knowing, and a little mean to Daichi’s ear, tone.

“It has.” Daichi confirmed anyway with a nod. “For everyone, I think.”

“You okay?”

Daichi looked at Kuroo and crossed his arms in front of his chest when he saw the Cheshire cat -like grin on his face. “I’m fine,” he told Kuroo decisively, because he was fine, and turned to look away.

Yes, drunk Suga was adorable, and years ago Daichi had been suffering from witnessing it. But not anymore. Suga was just a friend now. His best friend.

“Does Oikawa realize that Suga’s been heavily flirting with him for weeks?” he asked to shift the focus off of himself, feeling uncomfortable under Kuroo’s gaze and moving his weight from foot to foot.

“Yes,” Kuroo laughed, as if he was glad about his friend’s cluelessness. “But he’s trying really hard not to read too much into it. He’s still convinced that Suga doesn’t like him back.” Kuroo crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And Suga doesn’t know that Oikawa likes him, right?”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Daichi stated the obvious, sounding slightly bitter about it. “They’re both really dumb.”

“Are you still sad that Suga never noticed that about you either?”

“Shut up,” Daichi chuckled, a little awkwardly. Because years ago he had been sad. But that was in the past and it didn’t matter anymore. There had been a time when Daichi thought he had missed his chance to be with Suga, back when Suga met Akaashi. But that thought had disappeared the moment he had met Iwaizumi. If he had been with Suga then, he wouldn’t be with Iwaizumi now. And knowing himself and Suga better now, Daichi knew, that he and Suga wouldn’t have lasted very long. Even if he had told Suga that he loved him, there was no guarantee that Suga would have ever felt the same way about him. And he was too scared to ever confess his love to Suga. It could’ve ruined their friendship. So, he was really glad of how things had turned out. What’s a little suffering upon seeing your crush being cute and adorable, when it can lead to so many better things?

That in mind, Daichi thoroughly understood where Oikawa was coming from, what was going on in his head, when he said that he was afraid of what his confession would do to his friendship with Suga. If only Oikawa knew that he didn’t need to worry about ruining their friendship.  

 

...

 

As the party continued, Oikawa noticed a theme happening. Suga was getting more and more cute, and more and more adorable, and more and more just _Suga._ And Oikawa couldn’t cope.

He hid his face behind his hands so he wouldn’t see, but he kept his fingers splayed _to_ see. He just couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to – though he didn’t want to. There was something enticing in the way Suga moved and swayed along to the music that captured Oikawa’s attention. But he also felt that maybe he shouldn’t look, if only to keep his own brain from fueling his desire with images that he wouldn’t be able to get rid of.

When the song came to an end, and Suga finished his last move, Oikawa let out a quiet sigh of relief and dropped his hands.

“You okay?” Kuroo asked, a smirk tainting his words, and Oikawa shot him a venomous look. Kuroo snickered and Oikawa really wanted to hit him.

“Suga can be really cute when he wants to,” Kuroo stated, still smirking and it irked Oikawa. Although, there was no telling how much Suga was currently doing specifically to be cute, and how much of it was just instinctive to him.

“Shut up,” Oikawa said in a low voice, trying to rid the image of Suga dancing from his brain. “It’s enough torture to live with him and see him in the morning when he’s just woken up, or in the night when he’s getting sleepy. Or at any time of the day just being himself. This is too much and it fucking hurts.”

Kuroo laughed and Oikawa added more venom into his expression.

“There’s an easy solution to your predicament,” Kuroo said when he sobered from his laughter.

“If you say ‘kiss him’ or ‘tell him how I feel’, I’m going to hit you,” Oikawa threatened. “Besides, neither of those options sounds easy.”

“Yes, they are.” Kuroo stressed his words with a heavy nod of his head, his eyes very much boring into Oikawa’s like he was silently trying to convey how easy he thought it would be. “You’re just too scared to do it.”

“I’m not scared,” Oikawa retorted immediately, while he simultaneously thought, _‘Of course I’m scared’._

“Yes, you are,” Kuroo argued back, his voice never rising above the music or carrying to those who shouldn’t hear their conversation. “I know the feeling of wanting someone and feeling like you can’t do anything about it. Trust me, I do.”

Oikawa had a hunch Kuroo was referring to what he went through with Tsukishima. Of course, Oikawa didn’t know either of them back then, but he had heard the story numerous times since he moved into the building, into the apartment he now called home.

“But you definitely can do something about it, and you should.” Kuroo continued. “I know it ‘fucking hurts’ right now to even think about Suga and not be able to be with him, but it’ll stop ‘fucking hurting’ once you fucking tell him.” Kuroo spoke in a serious voice, using air quotes when he mimicked Oikawa’s words. “That’s what I did, and everything after that was honey and roses.”

“Lay off, Kuroo.” Iwaizumi cut in with a harsh tone. Both Oikawa and Kuroo whipped their heads around to see him standing behind them. Oikawa hadn’t heard Iwaizumi walk closer to them, and he wondered how much of their conversation Iwaizumi had overheard.

“Oikawa tells Suga when he’s ready to. Stop pressuring him.” Iwaizumi had a frown on his face, more disapproving than angry.

“I’m not pressuring him,” Kuroo insisted. “I just don’t want him to miss his opportunity like Daichi did.”

“Daichi?” Iwaizumi looked taken aback, but quickly schooled the surprise away from his expression. It didn’t matter, though. Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi didn’t know about Daichi’s past fond loving feelings towards Suga. Iwaizumi would’ve mentioned it at some point to Oikawa if he did.

Knowing this, Oikawa had alarms going off in his head as he carefully followed Iwaizumi’s gaze towards Daichi, who was, at that very moment, speaking and laughing with Suga.

“Yeah, he was in love with Suga, but never told him and he was miserable,” Kuroo explained plainly, clearly not catching onto the awkward situation that turned even more and more so with every word he said. “I don’t want Oikawa to have to go through that too.”

Even though the sentiment behind Kuroo’s words, and the caring in them, was considerate, Oikawa didn’t pay much attention to it. He was more focused on Iwaizumi, analyzing every shift in his expression, trying to read every single thought that was going through his head.

“Daichi was in love with Suga?” Iwaizumi asked, looking at Kuroo now.

Kuroo frowned. “I thought you knew. That’s the reason why my relationship with Daichi was mainly physical and never more than that. He was in love with Suga.” Kuroo shrugged, like he wasn’t all that bothered by that fact, and maybe he wasn’t.

Suddenly it was Oikawa’s turn to look surprised, and then quickly hide the expression. Akiko had mentioned that it was back in high school when Daichi was in love with Suga. But now Kuroo had revealed that the feeling had been much more recent. Had Daichi been in love with Suga when he met Iwaizumi?

Iwaizumi seemed to be thinking the same thing, if his slightly disturbed expression was any indicator of that. Oikawa knew he would be bothered by this information about Daichi. That’s why, after Akiko had told him, he decided never to divulge the information to Iwaizumi.

Oikawa would’ve said something to ease Iwaizumi’s worry – or fear, or whatever it was that he was probably going through – but didn’t get the chance before Iwaizumi was already walking away from him and Kuroo and towards Daichi.

Oikawa watched Iwaizumi go, and followed the interaction between him and Daichi, unable to hear a word. He could see Suga smiling, which was a relieving sign that the words used between Iwaizumi and Daichi weren’t ugly. However, the way Iwaizumi led Daichi out of the apartment seemed strangely possessive.

“I know you’ll tell Suga when you’re ready,” Kuroo said gently, and Oikawa focused back on him, forgetting his best friend when he and Daichi slipped out of the apartment. “I just don’t want you to wait too long.” Kuroo added, his voice low and serious, but also soft in a way that told Oikawa he really cared. “It’s already been three months.”

Oikawa had learned months ago that Kuroo’s advice and suggestions shouldn’t be followed if he was smirking or looking like he was having fun planning the devil’s birthday party. But when he was serious and somber, his advice was worth thinking about.

“Suga’s amazing, and sooner or later he’s going to find someone to date again, and I don’t want you to end up all alone pining for him when he does,” Kuroo continued.

Oikawa sighed. “Don’t you think I already know that?” he asked. “It’s already torture to be his friend when I want to be so, so much more. I know it would be a million times harder to see him date someone else.”

“Then tell him you like him,” Kuroo urged gently.

“How would that solve anything if he doesn’t like me?” Oikawa asked.

“Are you still on that?” Kuroo asked incredulously. “Didn’t we already establish the fact that Suga very much wants to bang you?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes and reached for more alcohol. He knew it wouldn’t solve anything to drink more, but he still felt like he needed to be even more incoherent.

“Yes, you told me that, but how reliable is that? How can I know that’s true, and not just something that Suga told Akaashi for... whatever reason.”

It was Kuroo’s turn to sigh. “Get over yourself, Oikawa,” he said sternly. He might’ve looked like he was about to give up on Oikawa, but he definitely didn’t sound it. “Suga likes you. You’re just too immersed in your own insecurities to acknowledge it or do anything about it. You’re losing precious time with every day that passes by when you could spend that time actually being with Suga.”

Oikawa hated how reasonable Kuroo sounded, how absolutely _right_ he sounded. He wasn’t about to voice that, though. Oikawa already knew that Kuroo knew he was right, and didn’t feel the need to tell it to him.

Especially not when Suga bounced up to them and wrapped his arm around Kuroo’s shoulders the way one would with their best friend.  

“Kuroo!” He exclaimed with unhidden happiness in his voice. “You’re late. Where have you been?” he asked curiously.

“Hey Suga,” Kuroo greeted with a pleased smile. However, Oikawa caught the subtle questioning glance Kuroo shot towards him. Oikawa raised his eyebrows back at the man to ask a silent question in return. “I had a job interview.”

“This late?” Suga asked with a tilt of his head, like a bird looking at something interesting.

“Yeah, they held a lot of interviews today, and I was one of the last ones.” Kuroo explained.

“How did it go?” Oikawa asked in turn. Kuroo had lost the edge from his cunning smile, and the man probably wasn’t all that pleased with how it went.

Kuroo shrugged casually, but Oikawa could tell it was faked. “Okay, I guess,” Kuroo answered, probably trying his best to seem nonchalant, but he looked too rigid for it, the movement of his shoulders too stiff to be completely natural - even if Suga’s arm was weighing on them.

“I’m sure you did great,” Suga stated confidently, his words accompanied by a determined nod.

“We’ll see.” Kuroo tried to smile.

Suga must’ve noticed the shift to melancholia in Kuroo as well, because he started to pet Kuroo’s head with a slightly sloppy hand movement.

“Fluffy,” Suga said then, out of nowhere.

Kuroo shot another questioning look towards Oikawa, but it was more amused than confused now.

“Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy,” Suga kept chanting happily, his hand keeping up in sync with his words. His eyes were bright and his smile almost blinding, he looked so happy. Oikawa had trouble tearing his eyes away from the man.

A slow smirk widened on Kuroo’s lips as he looked to Oikawa. “Has Suga been drinking?” he asked with poorly veiled – like the man didn’t even try to hide it – glee in his voice.

Oikawa leaned his arms on top of the island, his torso hanging over it, and nodded as he took a sip from the bottle he had put aside when Suga started his borderline sinful dance. "Yep,” he answered shortly. He was more than just a little jealous that he wasn’t getting the same treatment from Suga as Kuroo was.

“Suga, how much have you drunk?” Kuroo asked with a chuckle.

“Didn’t count,” Suga answered casually, as if they were discussing the weather. “Noya!” he suddenly shouted then and took off with a slight pep in his steps. Oikawa followed Suga with his eyes and quickly straightened and turned his back to Suga when he noticed that he joined Noya’s dancing. Oikawa tried to busy himself with _anything_ he could see in the kitchen, so he wouldn’t be tempted to take a little peek at Suga dancing.   

But, as he was facing Kuroo now, Oikawa didn’t miss how the cunning smile had returned to Kuroo’s face.

“Dude, do you have a death wish?” Kuroo asked lightly, like he was wondering why twenty clowns would try to squeeze into one mini sized car.

“What?” Oikawa asked, a little taken aback that he was just called ‘dude’. He also didn’t have any idea what Kuroo meant with his question.

“How could you let Suga drink when you know that there’s going to be a bunch of his friends here?” Kuroo asked instead of answering and explaining what he talking was about. “It’s just going to get worse for you.”

Oikawa was even more confused. He knew that Suga got cute and clingy when the man was drunk, but Oikawa didn’t see any problems with that. “What are you talking about?” he demanded to know with a frown.

Kuroo shook his head, as if he was disappointed in Oikawa, and moved on without saying a word. Oikawa was left alone in the kitchen, for the time being, and he wondered what Kuroo had meant. He didn’t follow Kuroo out of the kitchen, knowing it would cause him to accidentally see Suga. As much as he wanted to see and look and burn the image into his brain, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to continue living without suffering. So, he remained where he was, back turned towards everyone in the living room, now and then hearing someone laugh and whoop.  

 

...

 

Thirty minutes later Oikawa understood what Kuroo had meant when he asked if Oikawa was trying to get himself killed.

 

“Fasten your seat belts, keep your hands and feet inside the car at all times, hold on to your hats and pray for your life, because here goes,” Bokuto started to hype up his story of the time that he went to the store and met a real live celebrity buying bananas, that Oikawa had already heard numerous times. He couldn’t fault Bokuto for being excited about it, though. If he had ever met a celebrity of the same caliber as Bokuto, Oikawa would be bragging about it non-stop. However, he wasn’t the star of the story, and felt a little bored so he aimed his focus on other things – Suga, to be precise – while Bokuto explained every little nuance and insignificant detail about his story, even mentioning how the lighting had been bluish in the store and how he could smell the meat when he walked past the deli aisle and how there had been the smallest spec of lint or dust on his shoulder.

Oikawa wasn’t following any of it, though. He could remember the story with enough detail to nod along, while his mind was preoccupied with watching Suga and how he lit up and laughed in all the correct places of the story.

“And he agreed for a selfie with me!” Bokuto finished with a broad and proud smile.

“Jiminy crispies!” Nishinoya exclaimed loudly in a sarcastic tone. Now, Oikawa didn’t think that Nishinoya had been _that loud,_ but apparently it was enough for Asahi to jump out of his skin.

“Ah, don’t do that,” he scolded timidly while Nishinoya patted his arm soothingly, murmuring apologies. Apparently it was enough to cause a reaction too, because Asahi was lit up like a red traffic light as he turned his head away to hide his soft smile.

 _Cute,_ Oikawa thought, before his gaze focused on Suga again, who was trying to look stern, holding his – _oh for the love of everything that is good and pure in the world, no,_ Oikawa thought – partly wet shirt away from his skin. Oikawa noticed the glass in Asahi’s hand that probably hadn’t been that empty just a moment ago.

“Thanks,” Suga said sarcastically, but broke out in a wide smile and laughter. Oikawa wasn’t sure what he was laughing at – Asahi’s reaction or how much funnier it had been that his shirt was now wet. And of course his shirt had to be white, and Oikawa could definitely see through it.

“Oh, sorry Suga,” Asahi said with a sheepish expression, his free hand rubbing his neck, while Nishinoya and Bokuto laughed loudly.

Suga motioned with the hand that wasn’t holding his shirt to indicate that he didn’t need to hear apologies. “It’s fine,” he said in midst of laughter, and pulled the shirt off over his head in one shift move.

Oikawa was sure he died that very moment, his soul leaving his body and ascending the heavens while his lifeless body stayed rigid and unmoving where he had been standing. He was so out of touch with himself that he had no idea how he registered Suga’s next words.

“I’ll go get another shirt, I’ll be right back.”

As if he was standing in another universe and Suga was the only bright and sharp thing he could see, Oikawa’s eyes followed Suga’s back, drinking up the image and every little detail of bare skin he could see. It was ridiculous, he thought as he came to little by little, how only seeing Suga’s _bare torso_ was able to make him so utterly flustered. But there was no denying that the image, now carved to his memory like someone had done it with a chisel to a stone, had done something funny to his intestines. And other parts that he wasn’t too comfortable talking about in mixed company.

Oikawa was so very dead. He only hoped that Iwaizumi would throw a funeral with enough grandeur and splendor to fit him and how magnificent his life had been up to that point.

 

...

 

Things only got worse, or maybe better (so much better), after that. Oikawa was sure that Suga was trying to slowly kill him with his cuteness, adorableness, clinginess, flirting, and just being so _Suga._ But Oikawa found that he didn’t mind. It wasn’t too bad of a way to die, all things considered. Although, it would ultimately suck to die before he had his chance to be with Suga.

As the night wore on, Oikawa continued to have his little moments with Suga that were somehow always interrupted.

It first started when Oikawa had sat down by the kitchen table to talk with Watari, who he hadn’t seen for ages. They were catching up with each other when Suga, now dressed in a new, clean and dry shirt, came and sprawled his upper body over the table between them.

“Are you tired, Suga-chan?” Oikawa asked with an amused chuckle at his roommate’s antics. This wasn’t the first time that Suga had sprawled like so, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“No,” Suga answered with a deep exhale. He had his head turned towards Oikawa, but his eyes were closed. “Can you caress my hair?” he asked then, looking at Oikawa hopefully.

“Why?” Oikawa asked, but ran his fingers softly through Suga’s hair. He noticed the question and confusion in Watari’s eyes, but ignored it. So what if Oikawa liked to caress Suga’s hair? It was no one’s business and he really didn’t want to explain it to anyone.

Suga let out a contented sigh that was lost under the sound of the music and laughter filling their apartment, but Oikawa caught it.

“Feels nice,” Suga answered Oikawa’s question quietly and his eyes were blinking slowly, staying closed longer and longer. 

Watari seemed to catch the drift, and got up without a word and with a small smile on his lips that Oikawa was a little relieved to see.

Now left alone, Oikawa continued gently brushing his fingers through Suga’s hair. He could feel Suga watching him, Suga’s eyes lingering like a soft touch all over his skin. He didn’t meet Suga’s eyes, but focused his gaze on the way light played in Suga’s hair as he twirled a strand around his fingers.

Suddenly – and maybe Oikawa would’ve noticed the signs if he had been looking at Suga’s face – Suga straightened from the table and cupped Oikawa’s chin in his hands.

“Why are you so effortlessly beautiful?” Suga asked, as he moved his hands to frame Oikawa’s face.

“I am?” Oikawa asked with a pleased smile, quickly overcoming the surprise. If Oikawa didn’t already absolutely love drunk-Suga, this would’ve been one of the moments when he would have fallen head over heels for him. There was just _something_ in the way Suga looked at him when he said it – his eyes wide with amazement, his reverence in the hushed voice, his fingertips that were trailing down on Oikawa’s face.

“Yes,” Suga breathed out with something akin to longing.

“I love it when you’re drunk,” Oikawa slipped out. The small amount of alcohol he had drunk that night had caused his tongue to loosen up, and there was no knowing _what_ he might end up saying.

“You do?” Suga asked in turn, his eyes seemingly taking in every little detail of Oikawa’s features.

“Mm-hmm,” Oikawa hummed with a slow blink of his eyes. “You are so adorable whenever you drink.”

Suga scrunched his nose in annoyance and dropped his hands. “Don’t call me adorable.”

Oikawa chuckled softly and booped Suga’s nose with his index finger, reaching up a little to do so since Suga was standing at his full height. “Cute,” he said again to reinforce his opinion.

Suga only shook his head a little to remove Oikawa’s finger from his nose and he opened his mouth like he was about to say something. He didn’t get a chance to voice whatever he wanted to say before they were interrupted.

“Hey Suga,” a nervous voice said next to them and they turned to look at the man at the same time.

“Hey Yamaguchi,” Suga greeted the man.

Oikawa took in the tall man, with a freaking ponytail, and pulled Suga to sit sideways in his lap. It was some primal instinct that made him do it, not that Oikawa cared where the motivation for having Suga sit in his lap had come from. Not when Suga didn’t resist, but happily went along.

Oikawa secured his arms around Suga’s waist and followed the conversation between him and Yamaguchi with faked disinterest. His fingers played with the hem of Suga’s shirt, treading on the edge of slipping under it while the two mainly caught up with each other, asking how they’d been since they last saw each other at Yamaguchi’s exhibit.  

“Is this your boyfriend?” Yamaguchi asked, changing the topic of conversation almost drastically. He didn’t ask it with malice, though, but real curiosity. His tone reminded Oikawa of a child asking their parents how ducks swim.

However, the question that came from out of the blue brought Oikawa’s carefully faked façade down, and he looked at Yamaguchi, trying to read his thoughts.

“Who? Oikawa?” Suga asked and twisted his torso to look at Oikawa. “No,” he said with a smile and turned towards Yamaguchi. “He’s my roommate.”

“Oh.” Yamaguchi looked puzzled for about a second before it cleared from his face. “Sorry, I just thought that he was since you look so close.”

“It’s okay, Yamaguchi,” Suga said, like he really didn’t mind. He probably didn’t mind, but for what reason, Oikawa had no idea. He also couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad that Suga didn’t seem to mind. Oikawa loosened his hold around Suga anyway, and let his hands rest on Suga’s thighs.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Suga continued the conversation with Yamaguchi, not getting up even though Oikawa wasn’t really holding onto him anymore.

“I came with Tsukki. He just said that there’s a party and that I need to go,” Yamaguchi explained. “He thinks I don’t go out enough.”

“He might be right,” Suga said conspiratorially.

Oikawa felt like he was being ignored by the two men as a whole then, and gently pushed Suga to get up, his hands securely placed on Suga’s hips. When he was free to stand up as well, he stepped away from Suga, his hands staying on Suga as long as possible before he _had to_ let go, and went to the kitchen island to get himself more to drink.  

“Do you ever see someone and just get annoyed?” he asked conversationally from Hanamaki and Matsukawa, interrupting their moment because they were acting too couple-y for anyone single to handle. They had their arms wrapped around each other, and had been murmuring something, soft words spoken in the safety between their bodies. Oikawa’s stomach twisted because – he was drunk enough to admit it – he was jealous that his friends had that when he didn’t.

Oikawa noticed Hanamaki look over his shoulder to the general direction where he had left Suga and Yamaguchi. “So Suga has a friend? What’s wrong with that?” he asked, turning fully to face Oikawa, but leaving one arm around Matsukawa.

“Nothing,” Oikawa answered, and added _‘I guess’_ in his head.

“Is that him?” Matsukawa asked and simultaneously pulled Hanamaki right against his side.

Oikawa pursed his lips as he glanced over his shoulder to see Suga still talking with Yamaguchi and nodded when he turned back to his friends.

“Who?” Hanamaki asked. He hadn’t been privy to Oikawa and Matsukawa’s conversation of Suga dating someone bothering Oikawa. There was still a hint in Hanamaki’s voice that told Oikawa he already knew who they were talking about. Of course Matsukawa had told him.

Which Matsukawa proved to be true when he said, “Remember the friend whose gallery Suga went to a couple of days ago?”

“Oh, right, _him.”_ Hanamaki nodded along. Of course he knew, because the two men told each other _everything._

The jealousy stung Oikawa again. “Do you have to be so disgustingly couple-y?” he asked a little too rudely, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stand to look at them being so comfortable in their relationship. He really shouldn’t drink anymore, Oikawa knew, since the drunker he got the flimsier his verbal filter became. Anything could come out of his mouth. Usually it was something flirty or complimentary, something nice he thought about someone or something that he would’ve preferred to keep to himself if he had been sober. But sometimes it was something ugly and rude, like now.

But knowing this about himself didn’t stop him from reaching for more of the deadly mix of alcohol that Tanaka had concocted and named ‘delicious fruity punch’. The name was absurdly unfitting, since it was neither delicious nor fruity, made of sake and pineapple juice for some reason. Maybe those were the only two drinks Tanaka had been able to find.

Even if Oikawa was sometimes rude without any apparent reason to be so, his friends knew that he might not have meant what he said. So, it made sense for Matsukawa sound more bored than offended when he spoke.

“It’s my birthday, Oikawa. If I want to have sex with my boyfriend on your couch in the middle of this party, I’ll bloody well do it too.”

The look Oikawa aimed at his friend was hard. “Don’t you dare,” he said sternly.

A pregnant pause fell between the three of them, and it was Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s smirks that broke it.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that much of an exhibitionist,” Matsukawa said with a relaxed smile.

Oikawa was glad that they didn’t get their noses out of joint because of his, frankly, too surly comment, and relaxed too. They were his friends, and they understood, and Oikawa was grateful, yet still jealous.

“But he has a little bit of an exhibitionist kink?” Oikawa asked from Hanamaki, who wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Oikawa laughed at the vision, and Matsukawa looked confused for about two seconds before he saw what his boyfriend was doing.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa started a mild banter about whose fault it was that Oikawa now knew about Matsukawa’s apparent kink, and Oikawa tuned them out, looking around himself. He was, and simultaneously wasn’t, looking for someone especially. But he found Suga easily, still standing where Oikawa had left him. He absentmindedly observed Suga’s interaction with Yamaguchi, filing away everything he noticed and becoming more and more relieved with everything he saw. Most notable was the respectable space the two had left between them.

When Oikawa’s and Suga’s eyes met across the room, Suga’s smile rivaled everything beautiful Oikawa had ever seen, and he stopped breathing. Suddenly he didn’t feel the need to drink any more alcohol that night. Suga’s smile gave him a better feeling than he could ever get from drinking. He could hear Kuroo’s words in his head clear as the sunniest day, _‘Get over yourself, Oikawa. Suga likes you.’_

And he made a decision.

“I’m going to tell Suga tonight,” he said resolutely, putting down the glass he had picked up, and noticing more people that had gathered around the kitchen and the island. At some point Hanamaki and Matsukawa had stopped bickering, and were once again acting too sweetly. This time, with the decision heavy and strong in him, he didn’t mind anymore. He didn’t even care who had come close enough to hear him, as long as it wasn’t Suga.

“Tell him what?” Bokuto, who was choosing between two bottles of beer, asked innocently, as if he didn’t know what Oikawa was talking about.

Oikawa explained anyway, answering Bokuto’s question. “I’m going to tell him I like him. And I’m going to make sure he understands how much I really like him.”

“I wouldn’t do it tonight,” Akaashi disagreed, sipping his wine and looking contemplative as he usually was when he was drunk. There was a real chance of something philosophical but disturbing coming from him.

But Oikawa wasn’t wary of that, since he was preoccupied with being a little surprised by the words Akaashi _had_ said. So far everyone had been pushing him into confessing Suga as soon as possible, before it was too late. But now he was advised to wait?

Oikawa narrowed his eyes with suspicion. “Why?”

“Yes, why?” Hanamaki turned to look at Akaashi as well. “I think he should do it tonight.”

“Of course you think that,” Matsukawa stated with an eye roll.

“If you are going to confess tonight, which I highly recommend, you should do it with a bouquet of chili peppers,” Bokuto continued like Akaashi hadn’t said anything.

“What? A bouquet of chili peppers?” Kuroo asked incredulously, his arm slung protectively and possessively around Tsukishima. Oikawa glanced towards where he had last seen Suga, to make sure that the loud shout from Kuroo didn’t reach Suga’s ears and pique his interest.

“No, no, no,” Tanaka shook his head, appearing out of nowhere, just like everyone else had without Oikawa noticing it, into their little gathering. “Chili peppers are all wrong. What he should do is put on some romantic music, light a couple of candles, hold Suga’s hands in his and look deep into his eyes when he tells him.” Tanaka had a reverent and fond look on him when he spoke, as if he was really visualizing every action, and Oikawa wondered who Tanaka was thinking about when he described everything.

“Ew, don’t be gross.” Kuroo made a disgusted sound, and in all frankness, even Oikawa was a little turned off by the dripping romance of that suggestion.

“I think that you should wait a couple of days too,” Yaku joined their conversation. “Or maybe a week,” he added subtly.

“And he should do it after he’s made some spicy mapo tofu for Suga,” Akaashi suggested in his soft manner of speaking. “You know, a nice dinner, just the two of them eating,” he continued musing.

“After he locks the front door, of course,” Kuroo suggested with an almost lewd smirk that earned him a hit to the back of his head from Tsukishima.

“What?” Bokuto asked loudly. “Do you honestly think that they’d have sex right after it?”

Oikawa’s eyes bulged from surprise. What? Where they seriously about to talk about him having sex with Suga?

“No way!” Hinata agreed with Bokuto. “This is Suga who’s getting wooed.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes again, following the conversation around him with suspicion. “Why are you all so invested in this?” he asked when there was a short respite from suggestions and opinions.

“No reason,” Yaku said immediately, a little too quickly.

“Oikawa should walk up to Suga, right this second, throw some glitter in the air, all flamboyant like, and announce in a loud enough voice for the next building’s residents to hear that he likes Suga.”

A hush settled around them as everyone looked at Kenma.

“I can’t tell whether you’re serious or not,” Kuroo stated mildly. “But that sounds awesome,” he announced excitedly and raised his hand for a high-five that Kenma ignored.

Oikawa was momentarily distracted by the new information he just got. _Oh, great. Even Kenma and Hinata know about the crush on Suga._ But as least it seemed that they hadn’t told Suga, so maybe it was okay.

“He can’t do it tonight!” Yaku protested.

“We get it.” Nishinoya said and patted Yaku’s shoulder. “You have money riding on next week. You can stop now.”

“What money?” Oikawa asked, interested to know what the hell everyone was on about, and why on Earth they seemed so invested in the whole affair. He wasn’t able to interrogate anyone any further, though, because at that moment, everyone received what was truly a saving grace sent from the heavens in the form of Suga’s presence.

“Why are you all here like it’s some sort of a meeting of senior citizens in the middle of a market?” Suga asked in a bright voice when he practically apparated out of thin air, and hung himself off the back and to the side of Oikawa. Yamaguchi followed after Suga, his hands in his pants pockets, a mild look of interest in his wandering eyes that focused on Suga and Oikawa for a moment longer than they did on anyone else.

“Because we are old Suga,” Kuroo stated without missing a beat. “We’ve become old.”

Suga snorted, the sound of it light and amused. “You are not old. You just think so because you think your life was over the day you turned twenty-five.”

“From the day you turn twenty-five, your body stops replacing your dying cells, so from that day on you start to slowly die,” Kuroo informed everyone.

“Why are you so depressing on my birthday?” Matsukawa asked with a displeased expression and was the first to move away from the circle.

“Yeah, Kuroo, that’s just rude,” Tanaka agreed, and took off as well, whooping the second he noticed that the Wii was free.

The circle dispersed quickly after Kuroo’s statement, but Oikawa stayed where he was standing, Suga still hanging on him – or clinging if one looked at it in a specific way. And Oikawa preferred to look at it like that, especially when Suga wrapped his arms more securely around his shoulders and rested his cheek on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Have we become old Oikawa?” Suga asked quietly, but there wasn’t any melancholia evident in Suga’s voice, so Oikawa wasn’t sure if he was asking seriously, or if he was just gauging for Oikawa’s opinion whether people become old the day they turn twenty-five.

Oikawa turned his head to see Suga’s face, and noticed that Suga was already looking at him, a little sideways since his head was still resting on Oikawa’s shoulder. “I’m afraid so, Suga-chan.”

“Well, I’d rather be old than an adult,” Suga stated simply and lifted his head up. “I’m not so broken up about being old.”

Oikawa chuckled and took a gentle hold on Suga’s arms so he wouldn’t let go. “I’m glad you see it that way.”

“Hm, me too.” Suga agreed with him quietly.

They both let a comfortable silence fall over them, neither of them eager to break or spoil it with idle chatter.  The only sound filling the narrow space between them, and the surrounding bubble of togetherness around them, was the poppy music that they were gently swaying along to.

Oikawa felt Suga press his nose softly against his neck and Oikawa closed his eyes at the sensation.

“You smell good,” Suga whispered and Oikawa’s stomach made vicious tumbles in quick succession, one after another, within itself at the words.

“Thanks,” he whispered back, and smiled broadly enough for anyone to see even if they were all the way away standing and looking down to Earth from the moon.

“Now, move,” Suga urged then, pushing Oikawa a little ahead with his chest pressed against Oikawa’s back. “We need to drink more.”

Oikawa laughed at that, resisting the push by planting his feet on the floor. Drinks and all the alcohol was maybe three steps away from them and Suga could’ve easily walked around Oikawa to get some. For some reason, though, he needed to push Oikawa ahead of him to get there. Not that Oikawa as complaining at all. “You definitely don’t need to drink more,” he informed Suga while the man continued to try and move Oikawa.

“Spoil-sport,” Suga stated mildly. Oikawa heard the tint of amusement in his voice, though, and really didn’t feel any need to get offended. He played the part though, if only to hear Suga laugh.

“I am not,” he disagreed on the spot, exaggerating the indignation.

Suga laughed – _ah, mission accomplished,_ Oikawa thought – and unfurled his arms from around Oikawa so he could start pushing on Oikawa’s back. “Prove it and let me get us something to drink then,” Suga suggested, pushing Oikawa in front of him.

Oikawa wasn’t resisting really, just putting the bare minimum amount of effort to make his steps seem involuntary. He quickly noticed that he could control the direction they were going and turned a little to the right with every step he let Suga push him forward. In seven simple steps they had walked past the island and were now leaving the kitchen.

Oikawa wasn’t sure if Suga noticed it, but kept going and going. When they arrived to the living room and were few short steps away from crossing in front of the TV and interrupting the dance battle going on, Oikawa decided to stop. The whoops and words of encouragement from everyone around them aimed at the two playing Just Dance were almost deafening, but Oikawa barely noticed the noise.

“Where are we going?” he asked, unable to hide his pleased and delighted smile. They were probably starting to gather attention from everyone else, but he didn’t care.

Suga kept laughing, struggling to push Oikawa ahead. “I don’t know,” he was able to string the words together even though he was laughing. It was infectious and Oikawa laughed along with him, unsure _why_ they were laughing  - though they were enjoying themselves immensely.

Oikawa was sure he heard someone ask something, but he couldn’t tell who it was or what they even asked. Suga had stopped pushing him when the laughing needed more effort to stay upright and missing and craving for physical contact with Suga blocked away all his other senses immediately.

Oikawa turned in place, bent down to hoist Suga onto his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around Suga’s legs. All he heard during the quick move was Suga’s surprised gasp, and all he felt after that was Suga’s weight and warmth on and against him. Even if someone had cracked Oikawa’s head open at that very moment, they wouldn’t be able to explain why Oikawa did it.

He carried the unresisting Suga back to the kitchen, the vague feeling of everyone’s eyes on his back, and put Suga down gently to stand by the kitchen island again.

“So, what did you want to drink?” Oikawa asked casually, making a sweeping motion with his hand over the array of choices.

Suga made a little self-conscious chuckle, his shoulders shaking a little from the force of it. “I’m not so sure I want anything to drink anymore,” he said after he took a big calming breath. His following smile was a little shy and Oikawa wanted to immortalize it. He tried with all his will to ingrain the image into his brain. 

Oikawa stepped closer to Suga, almost close enough for the tips of their toes to touch, and brushed Suga’s hair to the side off his forehead.

They were so close to each other Oikawa was barely capable of breathing air that he wasn’t sharing with Suga. He locked his eyes with Suga, who looked back so impossibly fondly, that Oikawa felt like he wanted to melt. Their moment stretched and stretched, for once uninterrupted. Oikawa registered that he had left his hand on Suga’s cheek when Suga placed his on it. Suga’s hand was cooler than Oikawa’s, not much but enough for Oikawa to note it. And Oikawa was sure there was no way he imagined the current of electricity running between their hands, lighting up every nerve point in Oikawa and making him hyperaware of everything that was _Suga._

“Hi,” someone said next to them, the voice cutting through them and severing their moment. Suga dropped his hand first, and Oikawa dropped his along with Suga.

Oikawa silently cursed the person to the ninth level of hell, and like Suga, turned his head to look towards the voice.

“Don’t mind me,” Hinata said innocently from the other side of the island. He had cupped his chin in his hands, leaning his elbows to the island, and unabashedly watching Oikawa and Suga.

Another moment interrupted.

 

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dances away*


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa's POV in this was originally at the end of the last chapter, but I decided to expand on it, to have Suga's POV as well.
> 
> *offers fluff and softness and sweetness in a Kumamon sized box wrapped in shining red wrapping paper*
> 
> Happy holidays everyone!

 

 

 

Oikawa had miraculously survived last night. And, thankfully, he wasn’t hungover.

The evidence of last night’s surprise party was still in their living room – the streamers littering the lamps and the floor where they had fallen, the balloons in various states of deflation moving on the floor along with the soft brush of air Oikawa’s steps made, a dirty glass or an empty bottle forgotten here and there. They had already cleaned up a little last night, mainly just putting away the leftover snacks and the small sliver of cake that no one had been able to eat in fear of overstuffing themselves. Oikawa knew they should take down and throw away the decorations, but didn’t want to do it alone, so he let them be for now.

He didn’t feel like doing anything else either. After he had eaten a late breakfast, he had sat down on one of the couches, the one under the window to be exact, in their living room with a book. Something about Suga’s voice saying ‘You need to relax and take a break from your dissertation’ wouldn’t let him go anywhere near his laptop. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t read on his subject matter.

If Suga knew, he’d say that Oikawa wasn’t relaxing or taking a break, but probably still would let Oikawa do what he wanted to. Suga always did, and Oikawa appreciated it. Suga really knew and understood how important graduating was to him, and how much he wanted to do it with work he was satisfied with himself – even if it frustrated him to no end, and caused some low self-esteem slumps, that he’d never admit he had, and exhaustive study sessions.

“Good morning,” Oikawa heard Suga’s voice say after some time spend in silent solitude, and when he looked up, he saw the man walk into the kitchen. He smirked, but hid it by shifting his position – now leaning his side to the back of the couch and his back to the armrest, his knees up in front of him and the book propped against them – because Suga was wearing his black hoodie with the constellations on it again.

“How are you feeling?” Suga asked, and Oikawa peeked at him over his book. He was pouring coffee for himself, which was unusual, but apparently helped Suga function after a night of drinking alcohol.

“I’m good,” Oikawa answered. “I didn’t drink that much last night.” The balloons moved on the floor again, almost like a ripple effect, when Suga made his way from kitchen to the living room.

“That’s good,” Suga said with a sigh as he sat down on the same couch with Oikawa.

“How are you feeling?” Oikawa repeated Suga’s question, once again only glancing at him. The fact that Suga had pulled _his_ hoodie on, once again, was going to Oikawa’s head and doing dirty tricks there, so he couldn’t look at Suga for long. He could still vividly see with his mind’s eye how Suga looked _under_ the hoodie.

Suga yawned, the sound of it muffled against his hand. “I think I’m good,” he said. “At least I don’t feel like puking rainbows from excessive happiness.”

Oikawa sniffed with amusement. “Thanks for the visual.”

Suga flashed something that could be called a smirk, but it disappeared too quickly. “I don’t remember much from last night, though,” he spoke contemplatively.

That wasn’t all that surprising, Oikawa thought, since Suga was a lightweight. One sip of sake or two of beer and the man was _drunk._

“You didn’t do anything embarrassing, don’t worry,” Oikawa said gently.

“So I dreamed up petting Kuroo’s hair?” Suga asked with a small furrow between his brows.  

A wide smirk spread on Oikawa’s lips. “No, you did that,” he said, and turned a page on the book, even though every word he had read since Suga poured himself coffee had already disappeared from his memory.

“Oh no,” Suga whined a little and Oikawa looked at him and saw him rest his head back against the back of the couch. The sun was already shining high in the sky, casting strange shadows on Suga’s face. “He’s never going to let me live that down.”

“It was cute,” Oikawa remarked, following the edges of the shadows on Suga’s face with his eyes. “You were cute.”

“Ugh, stop that,” Suga complained softly and lifted his head up to finish his coffee.

“Stop what?” Oikawa asked innocently.

“Calling me cute,” Suga replied in a low voice, which Oikawa was sure he did on purpose not to seem so cute, but the knowledge of it only made Oikawa smile wider. “I think you did that last night too, or did I only dream that?”

“No, I did,” Oikawa confirmed. “Because you are cute,” he stated.

“Stop,” Suga said in a funny chuckle that could’ve been from feeling pleased or frustrated, maybe both, and he turned his face away so Oikawa couldn’t see his slight blush.

But Oikawa saw it.

“We can debate on whether you’re cute or not if you want, but I’ll win,” Oikawa said confidently. “I have proof.”

“You have proof? Actual tangible proof of me being cute?”

“Exactly.” Oikawa nodded and turned the page again, still not having absorbed a word of what he’d read.

Suga chuckled. “Okay, whatever,” he said, getting up.

Oikawa could hear him go to the kitchen, and he shifted his position again, crossing his legs in front of him and leaning his elbow to the back of the couch and his head against his hand, and put the book down on the couch so he could read. He could hear Suga turn their coffee maker on, and in a short moment their apartment was filled with the familiar sound and smell of brewing coffee.

 

...

 

Suga returned to the couch once he had measured water and coffee grounds into their coffee maker and flipped it on. He mirrored Oikawa’s position and crossed his legs in front of him, but didn’t lean into the couch the way Oikawa had.

For a few minutes, he just looked at Oikawa, observed Oikawa while he read, turning a page now and then. He admired how effortlessly beautiful Oikawa looked. The phrase rang a bell of familiarity to Suga, like he was quite sure he had either used it himself or heard it somewhere before. And it didn’t matter what Oikawa was wearing, or doing – he was always handsome to Suga. His glasses, especially, gave him a look of importance and intelligence, and captivated Suga’s eyes to no end. If only his long and outgrown hair was pulled into a high, but small, ponytail... No, he didn’t have a thing for ponytails, but he still thought that Oikawa would look good with one.

Suga knew he didn’t quite compare to Oikawa’s handsomeness. But he was pleased that Oikawa thought he was cute, even if he pretended to act otherwise.

Suga slowly leaned forward a little and gingerly slid Oikawa’s glasses off of him.

Oikawa looked up to him in question, no longer leaning his head against his hand, as Suga turned the glasses around in his hands and placed on himself.

“Your eyesight isn’t as bad as I thought.” Suga said, looking around their living room.

“They still help me see,” Oikawa said softly, an underlying feeling in his voice that Suga couldn’t quite place – Fondness? Excitement? Something else? Or maybe a mix of them?

“How close do you need to be to something to see it properly without your glasses?” Suga asked. He couldn’t see the objects that were nearest to him – they were too smudgy and out of focus. When Oikawa didn’t answer right away, Suga turned his head back to look at him, simultaneously fixing the glasses’ position on his nose a little.

Oikawa was looking straight at Suga. He was a bit blurry, but the gaze was intent enough to _feel_ and Suga felt like he should blush under it, but held his ground. He held his posture and the eye contact when Oikawa leaned closer. And closer. And even closer.

Suga swallowed hard when Oikawa was only a centimeter or so away from his face.

“Now I can see you,” Oikawa whispered. Suga felt Oikawa’s breath against his lips when he spoke. It would’ve been so easy to lean forward and actually feel Oikawa’s lips against his, to place his hands behind Oikawa’s neck to pull him even closer. But the apprehension and uncertainty of the future kept Suga in place.

Plus, Suga was sure he forgot how to breathe with Oikawa so close to him. “You’ve gone all blurry to me,” he said breathlessly. He found that he couldn’t move with Oikawa’s face _right there._ Close enough to kiss and touch, and yet far enough for Suga to feel like he couldn’t. But he could make enough sense of Oikawa’s expression, to know that he was smiling, the smile clear enough in his features.

Oikawa leaned back after a short, charged moment and Suga took a subtle, but deep, inhale – the air rushing in expanding his lungs before he exhaled slowly. With the air going in and out again, Suga noticed his heart beating faster than usual, and he tried to calm down, rubbing his hand on his thigh to focus on _anything_ that wouldn’t cause more erratic fluttering in his chest.

“Can you see me better now?” Oikawa asked gently.

“You’re still a bit blurry,” Suga answered with a small nodding motion. “But everything behind you is a bit clearer.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow a little. “Really?”

Suga nodded again.

“You might want to get your own eyesight checked,” Oikawa mused, reaching to slide the glasses off Suga. His fingertips grazed Suga’s cheeks ever-so-softly, and Suga wondered, too late, if Oikawa had meant to kiss him earlier. The way he had leaned forward and stopped only a centimeter away could mean that he had meant to kiss him, but then maybe decided not to do it because he had _stopped._ He had been blurry, but it was obvious enough to count that Oikawa had looked down not just once or twice, but three times. Yes, Suga counted, because it was the first time he had noticed, or thought he noticed, Oikawa look at his lips. This new knowledge was both scary and exhilarating and Suga was completely unable to figure out what to do with it, deciding to push it from his thoughts. There would come a better time for him to think it through and hopefully figure out what it meant.

“I don’t think I want glasses though,” Suga contemplated, faking the casual air of his words and scratching the bridge of his nose with his index finger.

“Why not?” Oikawa asked curiously, putting his glasses back on. “You’d look good in them.” He sounded sincere when he said it.

Suga smiled a little, pleased that Oikawa thought he looked good with glasses, not just cute. “You really think so?” he asked, studying Oikawa’s face and noting the soft smile on his lips.

The smile turned into a quick smirk. “Well,” Oikawa said slowly and looked down to his book and shuffled a few pages back. “Not as good as me, but still...” he said with smugness in his voice, but let the end of his sentence hang unfinished in the air.

Suga rolled his eyes. His heart was still beating irrationally quickly, but he had gotten used to it by now. This wasn’t the first time since he realized his crush on Oikawa that he experienced the signs of falling in love. He just couldn’t identify them as such yet. He was still convinced it was just a crush, and a small part of him was still wishing that it would just go away. That small part was convinced that nothing good would come from it.

“I need more coffee,” Suga said then, getting up. “Do you want a cup too?” he asked and touched Oikawa’s shoulder when he walked past him.

“Please, thank you,” Oikawa replied, his focus back on his book. But Suga could feel eyes on his back when he walked to the kitchen. It didn’t exactly help with the way his skin had been already crawling with excited anticipation, since Oikawa leaned closer, that he couldn’t shake off.

And Suga wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to be rid of the sensation. Maybe that was the reason why he couldn’t quite push away and forget the way Oikawa had leaned closer, no matter how hard he tried to.

Maybe he should have kissed Oikawa when he had the chance, Suga thought as he poured coffee into two cups, and sweetened one of them the way Oikawa liked it.

Maybe he could have another chance, he thought when he made his way back to the couch and handed Oikawa his cup before he settled down with his own.

“It’s Tanaka’s birthday tomorrow,” Suga thought aloud, to no one in particular, as he relaxed on the couch, curling his legs under him.

“Don’t tell me we’re throwing another surprise party,” Oikawa said like he was mildly inconvenienced by that prospect.

“No.” Suga shook his head and sipped his coffee. “He mentioned something about bowling.”

“Bowling?” Oikawa looked up from his book with a furrowed brow. “Seriously?”

“He’s turning twenty-five, he said he wanted to do something special,” Suga explained. He was looking at Oikawa when he said it, and noticed how the furrow smoothed from Oikawa’s face, the few barely there lines disappearing and leaving behind perfect smooth skin.

“Guess his life is over tomorrow too,” Oikawa stated softly and smiled at his own cleverness of making a callback to what... Kuroo? Had said? Suga wasn’t sure, but the words sounded familiar.

“We’re all getting old, aren’t we?” Suga asked, not really waiting to hear a response, but getting one anyway.

“That’s okay as long we’re not turning into adults,” Oikawa replied, smirking away like there was no tomorrow.

Suga dipped his chin down to hide his smile, and continued to drink his coffee. It was nice that Oikawa remembered what Suga had said months ago. And...? Yesterday as well?

Suga furrowed his brow a little in concentration, trying to remember last night. He knew that, even if he got drunk, the aftermath of it was never serious, and he could remember if he tried to.

And slowly, little by little, the memories started to come to him like a gently purling stream, slowly cascading down and in between rocks. He remembered clinging onto Oikawa, and how he apparently didn’t seem to mind it. He remembered asking Oikawa to caress his air, cringing on the inside for being so obvious and needy. He remembered Oikawa pulling him onto his lap and _holding onto him._ He even remembered Oikawa picking him up in a fireman’s carry and... and...

Slowly, like in a slow motion video footage, Suga turned his head to look at Oikawa, who was still focused on reading his book. Had there really been a moment between them then? Suga had a sinking feeling, like he was floating instead of falling down a well. He gingerly lifted his hand up to his face and trailed his fingers down the same cheek Oikawa had held his hand on. He wasn’t just imagining it, right? It had happened. They had looked into each other’s eyes and... Suga could distinctly remember wanting to kiss Oikawa then.

 

 _I really should’ve kissed him,_ Suga thought longingly.

 

“Why are you frowning?” Oikawa asked, interrupting Suga’s thoughts.

Suga hastily dropped his hand. Somehow it didn’t seem innocent anymore to keep touching his cheek, even though inherently there was nothing wrong with it. Oikawa wouldn’t guess what he had been thinking about just from that. Or, so Suga had previously thought, but wasn’t as sure anymore.

“No reason,” Suga said in a hushed voice and trained his eyes forward on a balloon on the floor, far away by the hallway. He sipped his coffee, surreptitiously hiding his face behind the cup to appear less awkward.

Oikawa didn’t say anything, and Suga hoped that he had decided to keep reading. His hope was unfounded though – he could feel Oikawa’s eyes studying him.

“Suga-chan?” Oikawa touched Suga’s shoulder gently with his fingertips and Suga turned his head to look at him. Oikawa’s touch disappeared when their eyes met. “How much do you remember from last night?”

“Um...” Suga scratched his nose, trying to stall for more time to figure out what to say, his eyes looking around the living room, not focusing on anything in particular. He was trying to come up with something vague, wishing it looked like he was trying to remember. Somehow their comfortable and touchy closeness didn’t seem as easy to brush off as just something they did because they were friends. Oikawa waited patiently, the seconds ticking by as Suga tried to come up with _any_ words at this point. It didn’t help that he could feel Oikawa’s eyes on him, still studying, the gaze lingering on Suga’s face like the softest touch known in the world. Suga took a quick breath, fortifying himself to look back at Oikawa. “Most of it. Why?”

“No reason.” Oikawa shook his head a little, his smile somehow fittingly soft and small and Suga’s heart ached upon seeing it. He looked away from Oikawa and let out his breath in a low exhale, reminiscent of a sigh.

It was probably time for him to go and leave Oikawa alone with his reading. Suga had caught a sight of the cover, and the title of the book, and knew Oikawa was once again studying. He didn’t want to bother him any longer, and downed the last of the coffee in his cup before he stood up. He didn’t get far from the couch, though. He looked down to see Oikawa’s hand gripping the hem of the hoodie, his hand brushing on Suga’s hip.

“Do you have something you have to do right now?” Oikawa asked when Suga looked from the hand to Oikawa’s eyes.

Suga shook his head, uncertain why Oikawa was asking. “No, why?”

“Then...” Oikawa’s eyes slid to the side before they came back to look at Suga. “Stay?” he asked hopefully, his eyebrows rising just a little with his request.

“Okay.” Suga nodded. He couldn’t deny Oikawa, not when he looked pouty like that. “Let me get a book to read too.”

Oikawa let go of Suga’s, or really his own, hoodie and Suga hurried to the kitchen to put his cup away, the balloons making way to him as he walked amongst them. He didn’t know why he was hurrying, but now that he had a reason, sort of, to stay in the living room with Oikawa, he didn’t want to miss a second of it. All the hurrying wasn’t necessary though, and only fortified the feelings of how inescapable the crush was for Suga.

Suga picked up the first book he saw in his room and hurried back to the living room, trying to look like he wasn’t hurrying. But Oikawa didn’t probably even notice, as he was reading again, still leaning his side against the back of the couch, his head propped against his hand and legs crossed.

Suga settled down on the same couch, all the uncertain thoughts that had gone through his head in the last fifteen minutes or so disappearing. This wasn’t the time to figure stuff out. This was the time to relax in the quiet apartment, with Oikawa.

 

...

 

Some time later – there was no knowing how much time, since neither of them had looked at the clock – Suga heard Oikawa close his book and the soft sound as it was placed on the coffee table.

They had both resituated themselves into a horizontal position on the couch – Oikawa’s head propped against a couch cushion by the armrest, his other leg bent on the couch, and the other straight by Suga’s side, while Suga lay on his back, his head resting on Oikawa’s bent leg. He had thrown his legs over the other armrest, his feet slowly and softly rubbing against each other as he read.

A moment later Suga heard Oikawa yawn, and he could see in his mind how Oikawa was probably rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

The glasses...

Suga sighed. He was at once reminded of that very morning, and how he tried them on and how Oikawa had leaned closer.

So impossibly close.

Too close for Suga to breathe properly.

The thought of Oikawa so close to him, close enough to kiss and hold, caused a shiver to run through Suga’s body, from his neck all the way down to his toes. He had managed not to think about it for probably hours now, and was a little annoyed with himself that just imagining Oikawa do something he did almost every day could bring the confusing thoughts back to him after he had done his best to push them away.

“I’m bored,” Oikawa stated, bringing Suga back to the reality, away from thinking about kissing Oikawa. He knew it could be a slippery slope. They already were close, and if they got any closer, Oikawa would find out about his crush and who knows what kind of horrible repercussions that could bring. 

Mentally shaking the thought and image of Oikawa’s lips _right there,_ Suga placed a finger between the pages and looked up, tilting his head back over Oikawa’s leg to see him.

“Okay?” Suga asked, unsure where Oikawa was going with his statement.

“Let me up,” Oikawa urged and tapped Suga’s shoulder. “I’m going to make us something to eat.”

Suga sat up slowly, his body resisting any quick movement after he had been resting in the same position long enough to seem like he was about to hibernate. Oikawa sat up after him and stood up, first to stretch himself into his full height –  hands reaching high towards the ceiling, his fingertips almost brushing the ceiling – and then to walk to the kitchen.

Suga lay back down where he had been, and continued to read. When in reality he was just hiding behind his book so he wouldn’t be able to make use of his fantastic vantage point to look at Oikawa’s ass. Which he had slapped, not just once but twice, the day before.

Suga groaned inwardly, so Oikawa wouldn’t hear and ask about it, and dropped his book open over his face. What had he been thinking then, Suga asked from himself. How on earth had he thought that that would be a good idea? He couldn’t remember any reasoning he might’ve had yesterday for doing it.

“We don’t have anything to eat,” Oikawa said, pulling Suga once again from his endless remix of thoughts featuring the classics such as ‘crush on Oikawa’, ‘what is happening?’, and ‘this needs to stop’.

“Just stuff from last night.” Oikawa continued and Suga heard the fridge door close. “And I don’t know about you but I don’t really feel like splitting the pea sized piece of cake.”

Suga’s chuckle at the comparison was muffled against the book that was now resting on his face. He had no will in himself to lift it up. “We can order take out,” he suggested, the words muffled against the pages as well.

“You want something spicy, right?” Oikawa’s voice came closer as he made his way back to the living room. Suga could hear the balloons move and swirl and twirl on the floor, almost like the sound of tall grass swaying in wind, but manufactured.  

“Of course,” Suga answered. If he looked down in just the right angle, he could see a sliver of the living room between the book and his cheek, and he saw Oikawa’s legs stop by the coffee table.

He heard a small sound of amusement leave Oikawa’s nose. Probably because he saw how Suga was utterly boneless and unwilling to move his body. It was safe, in a way, to be hidden under the book.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked, the sound of amusement very much detectable in his voice. But Suga didn’t mind. It was nice that Oikawa found him amusing and not too weird to be off-putting.

“I’m absorbing the story,” Suga replied. It was more or less the way he had studied for finals and exams and quizzes during his time in higher education. “This is how I got my participation certificate from university.”

“Your mom calls it that too,” Oikawa said, less amused now, but Suga could clearly imagine how Oikawa was smiling softly when he spoke in that voice. He cursed himself again, and his stupid brain that had somehow managed to file away every single smile Oikawa had and how his voice sounded whenever he spoke. It probably had filed away other things too, for example the way his hands and wrists looked and how his hair felt and shone and how his eyes had _that set_ in them when he noticed and observed things and people.

“I know,” Suga stated with a sigh. “Where do you think I got it from?”

Oikawa didn’t answer his rhetoric question, and Suga didn’t expect him to. In about a month Oikawa would get his much more impressive participation certificate after years of hard work and dedication for his studies. Suga’s mother had been emailing him with ideas for the graduation party she was planning for Oikawa, every suggestion more ridiculous than the one before. She always asked for Suga’s opinion, and Suga always gave his, knowing that his mother would do whatever she pleased.

“Food has been officially ordered,” Oikawa announced a moment later.

“What did you order?”

“Something spicy,” Oikawa answered and Suga made an amused exhale in response.

He was about to say something to that, but the words left his brain like they had been shot from a cannon out to the open and vast sea never to be seen or heard from again, when something heavy came to lay on him. Suga’s mind registered the smell of Oikawa and noted the distinct feeling of a body.

Suga was two seconds away from freaking out, because they had never been this close. There had always been that small space between their bodies. Or had there?

Oikawa took the book away from Suga’s face then, and dropped it gently on the floor next to the couch.

“What are you doing, Oikawa?” Suga asked, thoroughly dumbfounded by this new situation.

“Shh,” Oikawa shushed him and put his head down over Suga’s shoulder. “I’m sleeping.”

Suga suddenly found the situation more hilarious than freak-out worthy and started to laugh in small hiccups escaping his lips.

“What’s so funny?” Oikawa asked, his words muffled against Suga’s shoulder. “I’m trying to sleep here.”

Suga didn’t have an answer. Even he didn’t know what was so funny, but he kept laughing in small bursts, unable to stop them.

“I can actually feel your laughter,” Oikawa said in a soft and quiet voice. It only caused Suga’s laughter to grow louder and uncontrollable.

“Seriously Suga,” Oikawa lifted his head and Suga saw a smile playing on his lips, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “What is so funny?”

“I don’t know,” Suga was able to say in a broken sentence, the words split apart by his laughter.

Oikawa joined Suga with his own chuckle and made a disbelieving shake of his head before he put his head down, this time his nose pressing against Suga’s neck.

Somehow it hit a spot in Suga that calmed him down almost instantly. Once he was calm, the laughter only a silent memory in their quiet apartment, he started to notice how he felt about Oikawa lying on him. It would’ve been so easy to slip his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, but he decided it was probably better to just lie limply under Oikawa’s body. At least that way he wouldn’t indirectly and accidentally reveal his feelings to Oikawa. It could be understood as a very intimate gesture, so Suga fisted his hands to stop his fingers trembling with the want to run them through and feel Oikawa’s silky and smooth hair.

Suga wasn’t stupid – he knew how smart and observant Oikawa was. It probably wouldn’t take a lot for Oikawa to realize Suga’s fond feelings towards him that ran a little deeper than it was normal for a friend. Although, he was a little surprised that Oikawa hadn’t noticed his crush _already._ So, maybe it would be okay to...

Suga tentatively wrapped his arms around Oikawa, his fingertips brushing on Oikawa’s spine, and he softly moved them along the ridges and bumps. He might’ve imagined the contented, barely audible, sigh leave Oikawa. A moment later Suga felt Oikawa’s fingers comb through his hair and he closed his eyes and held in a contented sigh of his own.

A fleeting thought went through Suga’s head _– if only they lived somewhere else, or in separate apartments._ The thought was quickly replaced by another – _how much it would suck to not live with Oikawa. He was a good friend, a fun roommate._ Honestly, Suga would never voluntarily give up being Oikawa’s roommate. It was better to have him as just that, a roommate, than not at all.

So Suga contented himself for the time being to just be there with Oikawa like this. He contented himself to just feel Oikawa’s warmth, wanting to melt under it as if Oikawa was a warm sunny day (without the bothersome humidity) that always made Suga wish that he was a former snowflake turned into a puddle of liquid happiness enjoying the summer sun.

But just lying under Oikawa wasn’t as easy as Suga had thought, since Oikawa was maybe too warm. Really, _really,_ warm, and it was becoming a problem for Suga. It made him want to hold on tighter, to never let go, which was a scary thought.

“You’re too warm, Oikawa. Get up,” Suga protested a little. But only a little, for there was a quiet voice in his head that whispered and sang like a siren’s call, for him to let Oikawa stay where he was and he was inclined to listen to it – no matter how scary it was.

“No, take my warmth and my affection,” Oikawa replied, unknowingly agreeing with that small voice inside Suga’s head, his words muffled against Suga’s neck. Suga would definitely deny that he felt shivers travel down his back and along his limbs all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes. To stop the shivers, Suga fisted Oikawa’s shirt in his hands and held his breath for a second, before the shivers dissipated into nothing. And everything was... Normal, just as everything should be. As if this was how they should be.

The polarity between that thought and Suga’s internal debate that he and Oikawa could never happen was almost absurd. How was it possible for them to be so comfortable around each other, and yet Suga was so adamant that their hypothetical relationship would be nothing but disaster, thanks to their neighbors.

Everything was funny again for some unfathomable reason, and Suga started to laugh again. He couldn’t be drunk anymore – it had been hours since his last drink last night. But there it still was, running under his skin, the happy feeling that always filled him on the rare occasions that he got drunk.

He really couldn’t stop laughing, his full body jostling with the force of it, but the movement was a little strained under Oikawa’s body.

Oikawa joined Suga in his laughter, probably because he could feel the laughter against his body again, and raised himself on his elbows to look at Suga. When their eyes met, Oikawa’s laugh died and morphed into a soft smile that widened more and more to a full blown happy one as Suga kept laughing.

Suga wondered what the cause and thought was behind that smile. It was so happy and beautiful and everything just _Oikawa,_ that it made Suga want to curl his toes in order to contain the feeling.  

In less than a month’s time Suga would come to learn that Oikawa was smiling because of his laughter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cue Suga suffering: 
> 
> to be continued:  
> "I'm going to start to aggressively validate you."  
> Suga made a light sputter in respone.  
> "I would only use the loveliest superlatives to describe you."


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!  
> I'm finally able to update after a long period of procrastination because this chapter was getting long and longer and then the longest I've ever written, so I was feeling a bit apprehensive of it.  
> But it's finally here!  
> Sorry for the long wait. I hope this is long enough to make up for the weeks' long absence :) 
> 
> In case it's not clear in the chapter, we find Oikawa, the hero of this story, in his room, the night after Tanaka's birthday.  
> (I didn't write the bowling thing, I tried but it was blaah, so I gave up) 
> 
> Thank you, arc_kakusei! You're an absolute wonder of kindness, always ready to help me :)

 

Oikawa’s phone was ringing.

And ringing.

And it kept on ringing, no matter how hard Oikawa tried to ignore it, turning in his bed and burying himself under the covers and multiple pillows. Reaching _for_ the phone would’ve been too much work and it was irrefutably easier to flip onto his other side and block the incessant ringing sound with a pillow.

But even that didn’t help.

With a frustrated and irritated, but most of all sleepy and annoyed, groan, Oikawa sat up. He had decided that he very much didn’t like whoever was calling him, and was more than happy to let that person know it.

“I hate you,” he answered the call, letting his annoyance seep through his voice so the caller could actually feel it soak into their ear.

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi’s voice said sarcastically, but it didn’t have the bite it usually had.

Oikawa was instantly alert and he flipped his bedside light on. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. It was highly unusual for Iwaizumi to call him so late in the night. And it was practically unheard of for Iwaizumi to sound so listless.

“Nothing,” Iwaizumi replied after a moment, the silence before it filled with the sound of cars going by.

Was Iwaizumi out? At two a.m.?

“Something’s wrong,” Oikawa stated the fact as it was. “Where are you?” He was already getting ready to leave his bed, pushing the covers to the side. Because Iwaizumi never called him so late unless something was wrong. Very wrong.

“I’m fine, nothing’s wrong.”

Oikawa scoffed. “Then why are you calling me?”

Iwaizumi was silent again, and the worry for his best friend grew even more in Oikawa, as well as his impatience to know what was going on and annoyance that Iwaizumi had woken him up in middle of the night but was reluctant to tell him why.

“Nothing’s wr-“

“Stop lying,” Oikawa snapped, turning to sit on his bed so his feet were on the floor, his knee impatiently bouncing. He hated it when Iwaizumi lied to him. He hated it overall whenever anyone lied to him, but especially when Iwaizumi tried to – the key word being ‘try’, since Oikawa could always tell. “Where are you?” he demanded to know.

He heard Iwaizumi sigh and another silence filled with passing cars stretched between them. “I’m outside your building,” Iwaizumi finally admitted.

Oikawa got up instantly and went to his window. Of course he couldn’t see the courtyard from there, but he still went to look. “Why are you here?” he asked then, already walking out of his room and towards the front door.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Iwaizumi dodged the question by refusing to answer. “I just...” Iwaizumi stopped to sigh again and Oikawa wondered what was going on in his best friend’s mind at that very moment. What was so hard for him to talk about?

“Can I stay at your place for the night?”

Iwaizumi’s request stopped Oikawa. He had suspected that Iwaizumi was in search of some kind of refuge, from something more than just the cold night air, and therefore had headed towards the front door when Iwaizumi said he was outside the building. But hearing the request made the situation somehow... Off. Oikawa hesitated with his hand on the door handle. It had been almost four years since they had come to the agreement that they wouldn’t spent nights in each other’s apartments.

“Please Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked, his voice so quiet it was hard to tell whether he was actually pleading or not. But Oikawa really didn’t have the heart to tell him no, even though underneath the worry for his best friend, he was still a little annoyed that he had been woken up.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he told Iwaizumi, hanging up the call as he opened the apartment door gingerly. He flipped the lights on in the stairwell and jogged down as quietly as he could in his wool socks – that he wore to sleep during winters because his toes got cold easily.

“You owe me,” were the first words out of Oikawa’s mouth when he opened the building’s door and let Iwaizumi in, the cold wind blowing inside not just Iwaizumi but the foul mood that he was carrying with him.

“Trust me, I know,” Iwaizumi replied, pushing off his hood.

“Did something happen?” Oikawa took good care to pay attention to everything about Iwaizumi in the yellow lighting in the stairwell. “You look alright,” he stated, because Iwaizumi really did look like he always did. Maybe a little tired, but that was expected when it was two am. What wasn’t expected though, was the overnight bag Iwaizumi was carrying on his shoulder.

“I am fine,” Iwaizumi stressed the words and Oikawa got the distinct feeling that he was just brushing off the subject, unwilling to talk about it. “Can we go up?” Iwaizumi motioned with his head to the stairs. “Or am I sleeping in the stairwell?”

“Yeah, let’s go up.” Oikawa nodded his head and started to ascend the stairs, Iwaizumi walking right beside him. “What happened, Iwa-chan?” he asked quietly, not to disturb the sleeping neighbors, but unable to keep the question inside him anymore – no matter how much Iwaizumi seemed to _not_  want to talk about it.

“Nothing happened.” Iwaizumi answered shortly. “I just need somewhere to sleep tonight.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what?” Oikawa stopped in front of the apartment door and turned to look at Iwaizumi. “Why are  you here?”

“I don’t want to talk about it now. I figured you would’ve realized that by now since you’re usually pretty perceptive.”

Oikawa crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I noticed,” he informed Iwaizumi, his voice coming out haughty and authoritative. “But I’m worried because this is really unusual and weird. You calling me in middle of the night and asking if you can spend the night.”

“Look,” Iwaizumi said, his voice rising before he remembered where they were and what time it was. “I’m fine, okay?” He lowered his voice and sighed, his chin hitting his chest as he looked down before he looked up. “It’s late now and I just want to sleep.”

“Fine,” Oikawa agreed. He could see and hear how hard Iwaizumi tried to seem like he wasn’t pleading. He opened the door and went in first, letting Iwaizumi shuffle out of his shoes and coat on his own while he went to get an extra pillow and blanket.

A minute later, when Oikawa returned to the living room, the lights were on and he found Iwaizumi already sitting on the couch, a cellphone in his hand. He was only looking down to it, not doing anything, as if he was waiting for a call or a text.

Oikawa wanted to ask what was going on, but since  Iwaizumi had already avoided answering the question and explaining the situation earlier, and knowing how stubborn Iwaizumi could be, Oikawa decided not to.

“I hope you’re okay sleeping on the couch,” he said as he dropped the spare sheet on said couch, along with a comfy pillow that Suga kept for occasions just like this, and a thick and warm blanket.

Iwaizumi hastily put his phone away, as if he was spooked that he had been caught staring at the black screen, and stood up. “It’s fine,” he said. “Wasn’t expecting anything else.”

_Good,_ Oikawa thought and was about to say it, when another voice spoke up.

“What’s going on?”

Oikawa turned around and saw Suga standing by the hallway. His heart swelled as he took in how sleepy and ultimately adorable Suga looked, blinking and squinting against the light in the living room, clutching a zip-up hoodie closed with his crossed arm, his shoulders a little raised. He was probably cold, walking around on bare feet on their cold floors after he had been comfortably warm while cocooned in his bed.

“Iwaizumi’s going to stay over for the night,” Oikawa answered Suga’s question. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Suga nodded and smiled a little, still looking so very cute when he was so, _so_ sleepy. His gaze then moved from Oikawa to Iwaizumi. “Did you and Daichi have a fight?” he asked kindly, leaning his shoulder against the hallway’s wall.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi answered shortly, almost angry, and Okawa looked at him in surprise. He had never heard Iwaizumi talk to Suga like that. If there was one person who Iwaizumi really got along with, if Daichi was left out of the count, it was Suga. And Oikawa had never, _ever,_ witnessed Iwaizumi acting like that with Suga.

Something was definitely wrong.

But then again, maybe Suga had hit a nerve with his question, and a fight with Daichi would explain why Iwaizumi was here in middle of the night.

“Sorry to hear that,” Suga said quietly, a flash of surprise in his eyes. He probably wasn’t used to Iwaizumi being so curt with him either. “I’ll leave you two alone. Good night.”

“Night, Suga-chan.” Oikawa smiled after him. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s fine,” Suga called back and Oikawa saw him wave his hand dismissively over his shoulder when he walked away.

As soon as Suga disappeared from his sight, Oikawa turned back to Iwaizumi, who was preparing the couch for sleeping on it. He waited until he heard Suga’s room door close before he said anything.

“You and Daichi had a fight?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi answered, less curtly than he did with Suga.

“What about?”

“You already know,” Iwaizumi replied, his voice suddenly angry again.

Oikawa watched him open the blanket and throw it over the couch, not sure what to say. He did know what they had been fighting about. Well, he could guess, and the way Iwaizumi seemed to want to bite off Suga’s head had confirmed it to him.

“So, Daichi used to be in love with Suga,” Oikawa spoke slowly, measuring his words. “Big deal,” he added in a voice that he used whenever he wanted someone to get over something.

Iwaizumi sighed, the sound more frustrated than despondent. “I don’t want to talk about it now,” he said and sat on the made couch. “It’s late, and I just want to sleep.” Iwaizumi was repeating himself from earlier, which was a clear tell that he really was tired.

Oikawa considered Iwaizumi’s words for a moment, and decided that he could wait one night to get to the bottom of this. “Fine, we’ll talk later.” His voice left no room for debate and went to shut off the lights.

“Oh, joy,” Iwaizumi muttered sarcastically, the bite still missing from it.

“Good night, Iwa-chan.”

“Night, Crappykawa,” Iwaizumi wished back.  

“I hate it when you call me that,” Oikawa quipped as he made his way in the darkness to the hallway. He heard the sheets rustle as Iwaizumi probably got himself settled on the couch.

“I know,” Iwaizumi replied quietly, so quietly Oikawa almost missed it.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa couldn’t sleep at all that night. It wasn’t just because of Iwaizumi sleeping on the couch in the living room, but also because of the fight Iwaizumi had mentioned.

It wasn’t like Iwaizumi to let a fight go unresolved – he usually wanted to get through it without even sleeping until the matter was resolved. But now he had left his own apartment, in middle of the night, and come to Oikawa, insisting that he didn’t want to talk.

Something was very wrong. And the more Oikawa thought about it, the more he was sure of it. He didn’t usually bother worrying about other people’s problems. But this was Iwaizumi, his best friend. Oikawa couldn’t help worrying and pondering.  

The night passed quite quickly, without a blink of sleep for Oikawa. After a passing glance at the clock around six a.m., he decided to give up on falling back asleep, and got up. The apartment was quiet, as it always was so early in the morning nowadays. After Suga had stopped waking up early, Oikawa had spent most his school mornings alone in the silence. He didn’t mind it, usually welcomed it. But now, with Iwaizumi asleep on the couch, it felt out of place to Oikawa as he flipped the coffee maker on.

He was positive it wouldn’t wake up Iwaizumi – he was a sound sleeper, even if something was bothering him. It was truly a gift and Oikawa found himself a bit jealous of it as he made his way around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Hey,” a voice whispered behind Oikawa and he could simultaneously feel a light touch run down along his back. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Suga walk past him.

Suga was wearing the same hoodie that he had worn last night. It wasn’t one of Oikawa’s, but it was a bit big on Suga, maybe a size or two. A fleeting thought, and a jealous sting as a result of that, passed through Oikawa, if maybe it was an old hoodie that Suga’s ex had left behind. Oikawa really hoped that wasn’t the case, and mentally swatted away the green monster in a form of a bee that kept stinging him.

“Good morning,” Oikawa whispered back, and focused back on his breakfast. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, sweetening his coffee so it was drinkable.

“I slept fine,” Suga answered and yawned.

“Why are you up so early then?”

“Takeda-sensei wants to meet.”

“Oh,” Oikawa made a sound of understanding and nodded along with his head. “About your exhibit?” He glanced over his shoulder again to look at Suga when he asked.

“No, I think this is about something else,” Suga replied, still whispering, filling up the kettle.

“Any idea what?”

“No,” Suga answered with a yawn again. He leaned his back against the counter, eyes trained towards the couch that Iwaizumi was sleeping on.

Oikawa quickly glanced towards the living room as well and then looked at Suga. He kept up with the quiet, hushed voice – although, Iwaizumi would probably just sleep through it if they conversed normally – as he spoke, “I’m sorry Iwa-chan was so rude to you last night.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me for that,” Suga responded in an equally whispered voice and with a small smile.

Oikawa lifted his head up for a moment, to look at the ceiling, realizing that, “You’re right, Suga-chan. _I_ don’t need to apologize.” He flashed a self-confident smile towards Suga as he sat down by the island to enjoy his breakfast.

Oikawa wasn’t sure why he had apologized. He hadn’t been rude. But he had brought Iwaizumi in last night, waking Suga up. He felt a little guilty about that, for some reason that was too vague for him to grasp right then and there.

Suga’s smile widened for a flash of a moment and he came a couple of steps closer to Oikawa, lowering his voice, sounding like he was trading secrets at a back alley in a shady neighborhood. “I have a feeling Iwaizumi is going to stay here for a couple of days.”

“Oh? You noticed the bad mood he brought with him?” Oikawa asked with a cocked eyebrow. He couldn’t help but notice, and love, how close Suga was standing. It would only require the slightest lean to his right for Oikawa to connect his shoulder with Suga’s.

“Well, that,” Suga admitted with a nod. “And it’s not the first time that Daichi and Iwaizumi had a fight and one of them has stayed here.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow. “Are their fights really that bad?” He knew that the two sometimes fought, as couples tend to do, but he hadn’t thought it had ever been bad enough for them to spend nights apart.

“No.” Suga shook his head with a small smile, reassuring Oikawa. “They’re both just really stubborn. This doesn’t happen often,” Suga said, gesturing towards Iwaizumi, “since they don’t fight often. But when it’s bad, they usually ask me not to tell anyone when one of them stays here.” Suga explained, his eyes steady on Oikawa’s, his voice hushed and level. “I’m not surprised that you didn’t know.”

“Hmm.” Oikawa considered Suga’s words. He would agree with Suga that their best friends were stubborn, and more than anything, strong-willed. And it made sense that they didn’t want anyone to know about their fights. And since it didn’t happen often, it wasn’t a surprise that Oikawa hadn’t witnessed it yet during the time that he had lived in the apartment with Suga.

“Give Iwaizumi this when he wakes up.” Suga’s voice brought Oikawa’s focus back to him, and he saw Suga holding something between his fingers. He recognized the small item as a key when he opened his hand and Suga placed it on his palm. “He’s going to need it.”

Oikawa nodded, putting the key down on the island for the time being. “What else do you have planned for today, aside from the meeting with Takeda-san?”

“Nothing,” Suga answered, making his way to pour himself a cup of tea. “You?” he asked, glancing at Oikawa as he put the kettle away.

“I have to go by the school,” Oikawa said, trying to hide how extremely pleased he was that Suga came back to the island, to sit next to him. “I’ll do the grocery shopping on my way home. We’re almost out of rice.”

“I can go to the store too,” Suga offered, his brown eyes looking over the rim of the cup at Oikawa. The gaze captivated Oikawa, and he was certain he could look at Suga for an eternity and still a piece of Suga, a small aspect of his secrets and desires, would remain undiscovered for Oikawa.

“No, I’ll go. It’s on my way and who knows how long your meeting is going to last.”

Suga groaned and rested his head against Oikawa’s shoulder. “You’re right,” he said, and Oikawa laughed a little. “Can you go in my stead?” Suga lifted his head, to look at Oikawa hopefully, and with the smallest pout that Oikawa found hard to resist kissing.

“I love you, Suga-chan, but there’s no way I’d do _that_ for you.” Oikawa chuckled.

“It was worth the try, though,” Suga said with a smile, right before they heard Iwaizumi stirring on the couch. A moment later, Iwaizumi sat up, looking groggy and sleepy, scratching his head.

Oikawa experienced the wonkiest déjà vu, seeing Iwaizumi like that. It had been _years_ since he had witnessed The Morning Iwaizumi.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Suga whispered as he stood up. “To talk,” he added quickly, leaning in closer with his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder, and disappeared down the hallway with his cup of tea.

Oikawa watched Suga until he couldn’t see him anymore, and then poured a cup of coffee for Iwaizumi as he made another cup for himself.

Armed with two cups of coffee and the key Suga gave earlier, Oikawa made his way to the living room.

“Here,” he said, holding the unsweetened cup of plain coffee out for Iwaizumi as he came to the couch his best friend had slept on. “Move,” he instructed then, nudging Iwaizumi’s legs to make himself room to sit down.

Iwaizumi made a growling sound and accepted the cup, his eyes still closed as he moved sluggishly to make room for Oikawa – who sat down at his earliest convenience, barely caring if he accidentally would sit on Iwaizumi’s leg. He wasn’t trying to be mean or insensitive, but he had a mission to find out what had happened, and an ulterior motive to get Iwaizumi to vacate the couch as soon as possible. He was certain, that if Iwaizumi hadn’t woken up then, he could’ve had a longer moment with Suga.

Of course there were variables in the equation that consisted of him, Suga, Iwaizumi and all of them in the apartment and how they had come there. But there were fixed points too, consequences that would’ve happened anyway, that would’ve led Iwaizumi into their apartment that very night. Unless someone was ready to theorize on the possibility that if Suga and Daichi had never met, then Daichi wouldn’t have fallen in love with Suga and then kept it a secret from Iwaizumi. But that would cause a countless number of variables, one for example that Daichi and Iwaizumi wouldn’t have met, and therefore Oikawa wouldn’t have met Suga.

But that was for someone else to think about. Things were as they were, and unfortunately time traveling was still undiscovered, an unachievable dream for theoretical physicist. So, in conclusion, Oikawa had to make do with how things were and how they had happened. And that meant that he had to forget the silk gloves. Someone else might’ve preferred to use them at a time like this, but Oikawa thought it better to be straightforward. He knew that Iwaizumi was more or less immune to his charms and would see through any and every try of being subtle.

“How’d you sleep?” Oikawa inquired, sipping his own coffee, after he had situated himself comfortably at the other end of the couch. He tried to look uncaring, cool and relaxed – one of his legs bent and on the couch, the other on the floor, his arms slung on the back of the couch.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi said in a wide yawn.

“You always could do that. Sleep anywhere, at any time. Out like a light.”

“Yeah...” Iwaizumi trailed off, nodding groggily.

“So, what did you and Daichi fight about?”

Iwaizumi grumbled, slumping lower on the couch. “I just woke up,” he groaned. “And you already know what we fought about.”

“I don’t.” Oikawa denied. “I have an assumption, but you don’t like it when I state them as facts,” he said with a smug grin. He didn’t care about Iwaizumi’s grumbles that he had just woken up. It was the most opportune time to get Iwaizumi to spill his feelings, when he was most unguarded, and Oikawa was more than ready to take full advantage of that to get to the bottom of the reason why Iwaizumi had come late last night, pleading for a place to stay the night.

Iwaizumi rolled his sleepy eyes, sipped his coffee in an attempt to wake up, and made a face because of the bitter taste. “Ugh, I hate coffee.”

“No, you don’t.” Oikawa refuted his statement and sat up straighter, crossing his legs in front of him on the couch. “So, you and Daichi.”

“Why do you want to bother me about this first thing in the morning?”

“Because I’m your wise and wonderful friend, and I need a reason to let you sleep on our couch.”

Iwaizumi groaned, turning his head away so he couldn’t see Oikawa.

But Oikawa steamrolled ahead. “Besides, you came here when you could’ve gone to Makki and Mattsun’s too. So talk.”

Iwaizumi let out a long-suffering sigh, and Oikawa knew he had succeeded in opening the famous gates of Iwaizumi’s feelings. “He didn’t tell me about being in love with Suga,” he admitted, confirming Oikawa’s suspicions to be true. “There, I told you. Are you happy now?” Iwaizumi fixed his hard gaze on Oikawa, who didn’t flinch. He had faced and stared down that particular gaze many times before.

“So he didn’t tell you.” Oikawa shrugged like the matter was as insignificant in scale and size as a speck of common dust.

_“So?”_ Iwaizumi asked incredulously, his standoffish expression disappearing in a matter of milliseconds. “Do you realize how I might think he was hiding it for a reason?”

“What reason? Not to hurt you?” Oikawa asked seriously. “If that’s the reason, then, yes, I can understand. But your reaction tells me that you think he’s still in love with Suga and that’s why he was hiding it. And that just isn’t true.” He spoke as seriously as he could, to make sure that his tone was sincere so Iwaizumi wouldn’t try to find nonexistent lies in him too.

Iwaizumi tilted his head back, gaze fixed up to the ceiling. “You don’t know him like I do. You don’t live with him and see him every day.”

“And that’s why you should know how much he loves you.” Oikawa pointed out. “It’s kind of disgusting how much he loves you.”

“Wow,” Iwaizumi said and looked at him with widened eyes, clearly slipping into his bottomless reserve of sarcasm and harsh and unapologetic opinions. “Don’t hold back.”

Oikawa rolled his eyes, but softened his voice. “Daichi really loves you,” he said again. “He didn’t tell you because he cares about you and it wasn’t important that he once loved Suga. It won’t change his feelings for you.”

“But I should’ve known.” Iwaizumi kept insisting, still grimacing at the coffee whenever he took a sip. “He should’ve told me.”

“Why?” Oikawa honestly wanted to know. “Why is that important to you?”

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa as if he had just heard the stupidest question ever asked in the world. “You’d want to know too, if Suga was in love with Daichi.”

“But he isn’t.”

“Are you sure?” Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow with his question.

Oikawa didn’t like the implication of Iwaizumi’s raised eyebrow and question. “Yes,” he answered straight away. “I asked him.” Of course he was sure of it. Suga would’ve mentioned it if he knew, and everyone who knew that Daichi had once upon a time been in love with Suga had verified that.

“Oh,” Iwaizumi breathed out. 

“And Suga doesn’t know that Daichi was in love with him.”

Oikawa suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone in the apartment – his brain jumping to thinking about Suga the second he had been mentioned – and he looked over his shoulder towards the hallway, wondering in slight apprehension how much Suga had already heard of their conversation, if he was listening or accidentally overhearing a word or a sentence here and there.

“Still, they’re best friends.” Iwaizumi spoke up and Oikawa turned back to look at his best friend. He looked... Not angry, but grim. If a person could look like he was the embodiment of the stories by the Grimm brothers, then that’s how Iwaizumi looked.

“They spend a lot of time together, alone. I should’ve known. Daichi shouldn’t have kept this from me. I told him about you, and he knew I still loved you when we started dating. He should’ve told me about Suga.” Iwaizumi let out a sharp exhale at the end of his short rant.

“Okay,” Oikawa soothed Iwaizumi, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I get that you want to be mad at him for a while. But you need to at least try to see this from Daichi’s point of view too.”

Iwaizumi shook his head, pushing Oikawa’s hand off his shoulder. He clearly didn’t need comforting or understanding, feeling that he was right and justified to be angry. “I just want to be mad for a while.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Oikawa said and finished his coffee. It would seem that Suga had been right, Oikawa thought as he turned his empty cup in his hands. It would seem that Iwaizumi would inhabit their couch for another night as well. “I’ll leave you alone to stew in your anger then.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi said so soullessly, that Oikawa wondered if he meant it at all.

“One last thing,” Oikawa said when he stood up. “Don’t be mad at Suga.”

Iwaizumi sighed, tilting his head back again.

“Your and Daichi’s fight isn’t his fault,” Oikawa pointed out. “Suga is your friend and has no idea that Daichi was in love with him.” He lowered his voice so Suga wouldn’t hear his words. There was already a chance that Suga had heard every word spoken in the living room, but just in case that he hadn’t, Oikawa wasn’t about to start and let him overhear now.

Iwaizumi seemed to mull over Oikawa’s words, gnawing at his bottom lip.

“And Suga told me to give you this.” Oikawa put the key down on the coffee table. “So you can get in as long as you need to stay here.”

“Oh,” Iwaizumi said, his eyes fixed on the small key that was slightly shining in the artificial light. “Tell him thanks.”

“You can tell him yourself,” Oikawa suggested. “He lives here. It’ll be hard for you to avoid him.” Iwaizumi didn’t respond in any way, not that Oikawa even expected him to. The key had clearly thrown Iwaizumi out of sorts, but it also seemed that he was committed to holding a grudge of some sort against Suga.

“By the way,” Oikawa jumped onto another subject as he made his way back to the kitchen to put his cup away and to clean the remains of his earlier breakfast. “Do you have work today?”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi answered, but quickly changed his mind with a shake of his head. “Well, no. Kind of. I just have to stop by the station.”

“Maybe you could stop by your own apartment as well.” Oikawa wasn’t even trying to be sly about his suggestion. “See Daichi and talk to him.”

Iwaizumi scoffed. “No way. I’m not talking to him.”

“Just an idea,” Oikawa said with a shrug. “But holding onto a fight, not wanting to talk with Daichi isn’t like you.”

“Maybe it’s the new me.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to sigh. Iwaizumi was stubborn on a normal day, but this was a completely new level of bullheadedness. It was clearly time to let Iwaizumi be, let him think things over in peace.

“I have to go to school.” Oikawa informed Iwaizumi once he was done with the dishes, the silence not only holding but stretching between the living room and the kitchen.

“Go.” Iwaizumi made a shooing motion with his hand. “I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa wondered if that was true. “Talk to Daichi,” he said one more time before he left the kitchen. He didn’t stay to wait for Iwaizumi’s reply. It was probably just a harrumph.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga’s meeting with Takeda had been short, shorter than ever before, and he was almost convinced that Takeda had been abducted by aliens and replaced with a replica, or someone had eaten him and was wearing his skin – which was a little disturbing thought, one that Suga quickly shook away.

When he had gotten home, the apartment was empty, so he had sat down in the kitchen to finalize his exhibit, choosing the last photos to add or nix. He liked working there, but didn’t make use of the space as often as he could.

But the empty apartment felt somehow less empty now, with the evidence of Iwaizumi having slept on the couch in their living room – the blanket, pillow and sheet neatly folded and piled to the end of the couch, his bag left on the floor by the couch.

Suga wondered how long Iwaizumi would stay. Not that he minded Iwaizumi’s presence. Not at all. But he thought about Daichi, and the fight he and Iwaizumi had had. Maybe he could go and see Daichi, see what the whole shebang was about. He didn’t like interfering, and usually stayed away from everything and anything that could place him in the middle of their fight.

But maybe this time...

Suga’s thoughts were interrupted by the notification he got of an email, and he just about had opened it when the front door opened. He quickly glanced towards the door to see who it was and saw Oikawa taking off his shoes. “Hey,” he greeted happily.  

“Hey babe.” Oikawa responded so casually it took a second too long for Suga to realize that there was a word that maybe shouldn’t be there.

But he couldn’t fight the grin upon hearing those words come from Oikawa’s mouth. Even though he was still apprehensive of how to proceed with his feeling towards Oikawa – one day he wanted to tell him, the next he didn’t – he was unconsciously pleased that Oikawa showed unhidden signs of fondness and adoration. Suga just wasn’t aware in a sense to fully realize what they really meant yet.

“You too?” Suga asked with veiled teasing in his voice when Oikawa set the grocery bag on the counter by the fridge.

Oikawa stopped mid-movement, his hand still clutching the bag, and turned slowly to look at Suga with a peculiar expression, as if he was trying to figure out what Suga was asking. His furrowed brow smoothed when he seemed to make the connection and a smile lit up his face. “Sorry,” he said as he turned back to the groceries, letting go of the bag and then carefully making sure it wouldn’t fall from the weight of the contents.

“It’s okay,” Suga said with a small giggle. “I kind of like it.”

It was a slip, but Suga wasn’t too concerned of taking it back. Not when Oikawa’s smile was brighter than the sun, and as charming as the most desirable sight in the world when he came to stand on the other side of the island to face Suga.

“Really babe? You do dear?” Oikawa’s tone was teasing and Suga wanted to laugh. “Sweetie? My sunshine? My angel? The devil and prince of my dreams?”

“Yes to all of those,” Suga managed to say in the midst of his light laughter. It was light, but still there was a thread of melancholy when he thought of the slim possibilities of ever hearing Oikawa call him any of the pet names. “And prince of your dreams? Really?” He teased to divert any and all possible attention from his voice, knowing that Oikawa could hear the hidden tone of it.

“Would you prefer something else?” Oikawa asked as he leaned his arms on the island, looking at Suga over the laptop screen.

“I’m fine with it,” Suga assured him with an easy smile. “I just didn’t know you dreamed about me.”

Oikawa straightened immediately. “I don’t,” he denied. But Suga didn’t quite believe him. Not fully. Not enough to let it go unteased about.

“You do,” Suga stated as a fact that he didn’t know for sure that it wasn’t. He leaned forward to lean his elbow on top of the island next to his laptop, resting his cheek onto his hand. “What kind of dreams do you dream about me?”

“I don’t dream about you,” Oikawa denied again, while he was putting the groceries away.

“I don’t believe you,” Suga told him with a glint in the corner of his eye. “Come on, tell me. What kind of dreams?”

“There are no dreams, Suga-chan.” Oikawa insisted, closing the fridge and turning to look at Suga. “Except those where you sell me to aliens or murder me with your smile and wear my face on yours as a mask to commit horrible crimes, robbing the bank with a bright orange toy gun.”

Suga was silent for a moment, trying to follow Oikawa’s ramble. “You’re more and more like me every day, aren’t you?” He asked then in the proudest voice he could, overdoing it a little.

“The hazard of hanging with you,” Oikawa stated calmly, a slow smile spreading on his lips as he held eye contact with Suga – who smiled back until it became too much of _something_ , and he had to look away, to calm down and let his heart take a break from the wild beating it had started, as if it suddenly started practicing the Macarena.

Oikawa busied himself with the groceries again, putting away the last of them in the tall cupboard, and Suga remembered the email he had gotten, and finally read it.

“What are you doing?” Oikawa asked softly after a while.

Suga had been focused on the email, and he would’ve jumped if he wasn’t so used to it, when Oikawa wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind. Actually, he was so used to it by now, that he instinctively leaned back against Oikawa’s chest, his heart doing the Macarena in double time.

“Takeda sent me information about this exhibit in Kyoto.” Suga answered, scrolling up and down on the email that was open on his screen, letting Oikawa see the whole thing.

“Why did he send you that? Are you going?”

“Well, a photo of mine is going to be there.”

“Is that what the meeting with him was about?”

Suga nodded his answer, knowing Oikawa would see it, standing so close behind him.

Oikawa hummed in response and unfurled his arms from around Suga. “When is it?” He asked as he went back around the island.

Suga felt a little cold with the sudden absence of Oikawa’s body heat, but he tried to ignore it. “In May.”

“Are you going to go?” Oikawa seemed to feign disinterest, fooling no one with it, as he picked up and inspected a mandarin.

“I kind of have to, since my photo is going to be there.”

Oikawa looked up from the fruit in his hand and locked eyes with Suga. “I’ve told you this before,” he said and focused back on the mandarin, peeling it. “You don’t _have_ to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I know.” Suga made a small nod. “But this is kind of my livelihood,” he started to explain, lowering the laptop screen but not closing it all the way, and crossed his arms and leaned them on the island. “I should go.”

Oikawa offered a piece of the mandarin to Suga. “If you don’t feel like going alone, I can go with you,” Oikawa suggested, sounding serious, while Suga bit into the offered piece of citrusy fruit.

“Really?” Suga asked, more surprised than he probably should be.

“Of course.” Oikawa smiled a little, and offered another slice, which Suga accepted as well.

“Thank you,” Suga said, a little mystified. “But it’s over two months from now, at the end of May. I haven’t even decided whether I’m going to go.”

“If you want me to go with you, just tell me.”

“You know,” Suga said thoughtfully as he leaned his cheek into his hand again and studied Oikawa. “You seem less... _something._ I don’t know how to describe it but... It’s something.”

“Okay?” Oikawa seemed a little wary, biting into a slice of mandarin, his eyes searching Suga’s face.

“But you seem more of _something else.”_ Suga added. “I can’t explain it, but I think you’ve changed a little.”

“I’m not sure if you meant that as a compliment, but I’m going to take it that way.”

“You should.” Suga told him kindly. “I meant it as such.”

“Thank you.” Oikawa smiled charmingly, clearly pleased.

“Although, I’m regretting it now. It’s just going to go into your head and make it even bigger.”

“Impossible.” Oikawa disagreed almost haughtily. “My head is the perfect size as it is.”

“No wonder I want to wear your face as a mask in your dreams then,” Suga bluntly stated.

“I wasn’t actually serious about that.”

Suga’s smile was mischievous. “I know.” 

“But if I was going to let anyone wear my face as their mask, it’d be you.”

“You would?” Suga reached over the island to take the last slice of mandarin from Oikawa’s hand as it was already going to Oikawa’s mouth. “You’d let me kill you with my devilish ways, and maybe with a knife and then I could rip your face off, all bloody and –“

“You don’t have to be so graphic about it,” Oikawa interrupted with a disgusted expression that made Suga laugh.

“But I enjoy teasing you.”

“That’s because you like me,” Oikawa deadpanned confidently – so confidently that Suga was amazed and at a total loss on figuring out where he had summoned it.

But he wasn’t about to just admit it. “You’re alright, I guess,” Suga said with a shrug, turning his head away to appear indifferent and finally popped the last stolen slice of mandarin in his mouth. It tasted better than the previous ones.  

Oikawa, however, wasn’t fooled so easily. Or so it would seem since he let out an amused chuckle, almost snickering. “You like me,” he stated again.

“I think you’ve confused ‘like’ with ‘tolerate’.”

“No, I think you have. I’m a lovely person, why wouldn’t you like me?”

“How much time do you have to listen to me list all the reasons why I don’t like you?” Suga had a teasing smile, and he hoped that Oikawa would notice it.

He hoped, because it seemed that Oikawa _didn’t_ notice it. He studied Suga for a spell before he turned away to throw the peel away and when he returned, he leaned in closer than before, his eyes dead-serious.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Why are you taking me seriously? I thought we were teasing each other.”

“So you do like me?” Oikawa’s confident smile reappeared, even more dazzling than before.

Suga rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Well...” He trailed off, trying to think of the right words to say. “You still brush all the crumbs to the floor and leave your socks all over the place for me to vacuum.”

“Yes, I do that just for you.”

Suga chuckled. “Thanks for that. But even with those annoying habits, I like you as a roommate.”

“A roommate?”

“That’s what we are, right?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa said with a small nod, his smile a bit too sharp to be genuine. “Roommates,” he repeated and lightly pressed Suga’s nose with his index finger.

Suga scrunched his face in response and it made Oikawa chuckle, his smile relaxing.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Oikawa asked then, straightening from his leaning position. Suga’s eyes followed Oikawa’s hands as he pulled his hair back to a ponytail for a second before he dropped them and his hair fell down like he was in a shampoo commercial. Because Oikawa definitely – at least in his own opinion if you were to ask him – was worth it.

“I’m going to visit Daichi when he gets off work at four.”

Oikawa looked mildly surprised. “Really?”

“He’s my best friend and probably feels miserable about the fight.” Suga’s answer was sincere, he really cared about Daichi and if Daichi needed a friend, of course Suga would be there. But Oikawa’s surprise made him suspicious. “Why?”

Oikawa shrugged. “No reason. How long are you going to be gone?”

“Depends,” Suga said with a shrug too.

“The game starts at seven.”

Ah, the long awaited volleyball game of the national team that they had all been waiting for, even though it was barely ever mentioned or discussed. It was just implied that they would watch it.

“I know. I’ll let you know if I can’t make it home before that.”

“Okay, good.” Oikawa looked pleased with his small smile and bright eyes.

“Are you going to study now?”

“I should.”

“See you later then?” Suga asked hopefully.

“Of course,” Oikawa answered with a blinding smile and he brushed by Suga when he left the kitchen, momentarily halting Suga’s breathing with the brief contact his hand made trailing across his back.

 

 

...

 

 

It was raining a couple of hours later when Suga walked to Daichi’s, and his shoes were a bit too ill-equipped to deal with the wetness of the ground. At least he had thought of taking an umbrella with him. The streets were filled with umbrellas, most of them black and if anyone looked down from a tall building, they would only see the occasional bright blip of color in the sea of black.

Suga was one of those bright colored blips with his orange and black striped umbrella. His mother had gotten it to him years ago, when he moved to Tokyo. In a way, the umbrella was important to him, even though it wasn’t the only one he owned. But for some universally unknown reason he was careful with it, took good care not to accidentally break it.

When he made it to Daichi’s apartment building, his shoes hadn’t gotten wet inside out, but he was sure they definitely would if he’d have to walk home in that rain too. There wasn’t an umbrella in the world that could shield shoes from pouring rain. He hoped that the clouds would pass soon as he ascended the stairs and rang the doorbell. His folded umbrella was dripping water one drop at time in the stairwell as he waited.

The door opened quickly, Daichi must’ve been close, or had ran to the door when he heard the doorbell. The latter seemed to be the correct guess, as his face fell when his eyes fell on Suga.

“Oh.” Daichi even sounded disappointed and Suga raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Suga said with a small smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Daichi let Suga inside the apartment. “I was just hoping you were Hajime.” There was an almost desperate note in his voice that told Suga all he needed to know of how Daichi was handling the fight. He really had run to the door then.

But wouldn’t Iwaizumi just use his keys to open the door, Suga wondered as he stepped inside. “I heard about the fight you two had,” he said as he closed the front door. “I came to check on you.” He studied Daichi, and his slumped form in his scrubs, as he took off his shoes and followed him to the kitchen.

“Well, as you can probably see, I’m not doing all that well.”

“You look really tired.” Suga was a little concerned and wondered if Daichi had lost sleep because of the fight. Until he realized that this was Daichi. “Don’t tell me you’ve been working double shifts again.” He disapproved of Daichi overworking himself. The man worked too hard for his own good. His job was hard enough as it was – having to care for sick and scared kids.

“We’re understaffed at the moment,” Daichi defended himself. “Do you want tea?”

“If you’re having some.”

“I don’t mind the long hours. Work keeps my mind off the fight,” Daichi spoke matter-of-factly while he boiled the water.  

“What was the fight about?” Suga was intrigued to know. Sure, Daichi and Iwaizumi sometimes butted heads about the most trivial stuff, but it always seemed to be easily resolved when they remembered that they didn’t need to agree on everything, and that they were both entitled to their own opinions, no matter how stupid one of them would find the other’s opinion. This, though, seemed more serious.

“Just an old stupid thing that Hajime got mad about.” Daichi shrugged, but Suga didn’t quite believe the casualness of it.

“What old stupid thing?”

“Just an old stupid thing,” Daichi said again with a shrug. “I’m going to go change my clothes, I’ll be right back.”

Suga watched Daichi disappear into the bedroom before he went to the living room and sat down on the couch and rested his head on the back of it, his eyes studying the ceiling that he had already memorized a long time ago.

It didn’t take long for Daichi to come back and he went straight to the kitchen to prepare the tea, while Suga waited in the living room.

“How are you doing?” Daichi opened the conversation casually when he came to the living room carrying too cups, handing one of them to Suga before he sat down on the same couch with him.

Suga accepted the cup eagerly, happy to warm the cold wetness that had seeped into his bones from the poor weather outside. “Honestly, I’m good,” Suga said with some self-disciplined evaluation. He sipped the tea and leaned his head back with a happy sigh. It was warm and good and he could feel it warm up his insides.  

“Excited about your exhibit?”

“I guess, a little bit,” Suga answered as he kept sipping his tea. He could tell Daichi was trying his best not to talk about the fight, not to mention it or even think about it, and Suga let him. They circle back to it later.

“Me too,” Daichi said with a real smile that Suga was glad to see. “I’m going to hype it up to everyone at the hospital too.”

“Please, don’t do that.” Suga got a little uncomfortable with the thought. “You don’t even know if it’s going to be good.” He brushed some nonexistent lint off his jeans, avoiding Daichi’s eyes.

“It’s your photos, of course it’s going to –“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Suga said sternly, looking seriously at Daichi, who looked a little surprised and hurt.

“I’m sorry, it’s just...” Suga sighed and put his cup down on the coffee table. “I appreciate the support, thank you for that, but I get a little weirded out with so much blind faith in my photos.”

“Okay, I’ll silently praise your work then,” Daichi whispered with a teasing smile and Suga let out a small chuckle.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Daichi said in passing before he put his cup down too. “Is there anything else going on in your life right now that you want to talk about?”

“Wow, you’ll really milk our time together for anything so you don’t have to talk about the fight you and Iwaizumi had.”

“There is something then?” Daichi had a knowing tone. “Do you want more tea?”

“No, thank you.” Suga shook his head. There was still some left in the oversized cup, that wasn’t just big enough to hold a teacup pig but a normal sized pet pig too.

“I’ll get more just for me then,” Daichi said as he stood up and picked up his cup before he turned towards the kitchen. “Keep talking, I’m listening.”

Suga didn’t talk, though. There was something that he kind of wanted to talk about, but he wasn’t sure if he should. No, not ‘should’ but if he could without wanting to hide under a rock. He didn’t usually get too embarrassed. But he knew, just _knew,_ how Daichi would react and the thought alone was enough to cause a slight blush.

He picked up his cup again as he waited while Daichi prepared more tea for himself, and contemplated whether to talk about it at all.

“What’s going on Suga?” Daichi asked with a small smile when he came back with his refilled cup. “You really look like you want to talk about something, so just go ahead. You know that I’m a great listener.” Daichi sipped his tea, his eyes gently looking at Suga without a hint of judgement.

Suga took a deep breath and let it out in a short gust. “It’s about Oikawa.”

“I know,” Daichi levelled gently.

“How could you know?”

Daichi chuckled. “I know you, Suga.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe that Suga would even ask how he knew. “What’s going on with you and Oikawa?”

Suga looked straight ahead past Daichi’s head and out the window. The sun was beginning to set behind the clouds, the hour right between the sun and the street lights, kind of grey haze of darkness saturating everything Suga saw before it would be replaced by the ugly and cold artificial lighting that made shadows sharp and within movement always changing from short to tall and back to short.

Suga closed his eyes. He didn’t dare to look at Daichi with what he was going to admit. “I kind of kissed Oikawa.”

“You did what?” Daichi asked with a disbelieving tone and then started to laugh – most likely because of the desperate and whiny tone of voice that Suga had used.

Suga opened his eyes to look at Daichi, the always steady Daichi who was his best friend, who was laughing so hard he was crying. Suga wasn’t pleased, but he couldn’t be mad at Daichi either, since he knew he’d probably react the same way if their roles were reversed. He’d probably laugh even harder, rolling on the floor after he’d fallen from couch, holding his stomach because it would be hurting from so much violent laughing.

“I’m sorry,” Daichi hiccupped with his laughter, only settling down when he managed, on his third try, to breathe deep. “I’m sorry for laughing.” He wiped away the stray happy tears from his cheeks.

“It’s fine,” Suga waved the apology to the side. “I knew you would.” He didn’t mind the laughing, but he decided not to tell Daichi about the almost kiss that had happened not two days ago. He held that memory close to him, somehow it was special in the middle of all the other little moments between him and Oikawa, and he wasn’t ready to hear Daichi laugh about it.

Although, it was more than possible that Daichi _wouldn’t_ laugh about it. Not when he’d see how dear the moment was for Suga. The silly shoulder-kiss, though. He was okay with it being a joke, sort of, to Daichi. It was a weird kind of situation, an absurd thought, to kiss someone you liked, when you were in the confusing middle ground of ‘what’s-going-on’ with that person.

Daichi suppressed another fit of giggles, his hand in front of his mouth. “When was this?” His words were muffled against his hand, but still audible enough to be heard, even with the random giggles that were still escaping from him.

Suga exhaled a weary sigh. “It was only on his shoulder, about a month ago.”

Daichi started to laugh again and Suga saw it first rise inside him – the shoulders shaking a little with poor effort of containing it, the lips pressed tight, and then the small gusts of air leaving his nose before it was a full on boisterous laughter. Daichi tilted his head back, letting his free laugh fill the living room, his arms holding onto his stomach.

Suga waited patiently until Daichi calmed down again, looking everywhere but at Daichi. Their moods were at odds with each other. Suga had been anxious enough about the kiss ever happening, and knowing how Daichi would react didn’t make it any easier on him to actually witness it. But once again, Suga knew, if their roles were reversed, and it was Daichi who had a crush on Oikawa and had kissed his shoulder, Suga would probably laugh too. Probably. It was hard to imagine such a scenario, though. 

“I’m really sorry for laughing,” Daichi apologized again, laughing all the way through it.

“Just let it out,” Suga advised him. And Daichi followed the advice. Suga was sure that Daichi would feel it in his abs tomorrow. At least this seemed to take Daichi’s thoughts away from the fight.

After a while, that felt longer to Suga than it probably was in real time, Daichi wiped the new happy tears from his eyes. “What happened next?”

“Honestly,” Suga said but stopped to think about it for a moment. “I don’t think he noticed it and I’m glad that he didn’t.”

“Why?” Daichi was still drying his eyes on his sleeve. “I thought you like him.”

“I do,” Suga admitted in a quiet sigh. “But can you imagine how it would go if I told him that then?” Suga prepared himself for another round of laughter. He had never thought that he would need a microphone in his hand and a brick wall behind him to tell Daichi anything.

With the thought of performing his next lines on a stage in front of a decently drunk audience who were ready to heckle without a moment’s notice, Suga laced his voice with as much sarcasm as he could. “Can you imagine the scenario? I kiss him on the shoulder, walk out of the room, realize what I did, go back into the room and tell him ‘Oh, by the way, I kissed your shoulder to tell you that I like you’.”  

As predicted, Daichi started to laugh again, but it was just a soft chuckle this time.

Suga was sure enough to lock his answer in a gaming show to say that Daichi was only laughing so easily and so hard because he was tired.

“I think you should’ve told him.” Daichi managed to sober enough to say gently. “Not the way you just described, but you should let Oikawa know that you like him.”

“Why?” 

“Isn’t it always better to let the person know that you like them? It’s wonderful to know that someone likes you,” Daichi said kindly with a small soft smile and understanding eyes. “Besides, it’s lonely to be secretly in love with someone,” Daichi added as if he was talking from experience – which didn’t make sense to Suga. They had been friends for years. Surely he would know if Daichi had ever been in love with someone secretly. He loved his best friend, but in all honesty, Daichi was poorly equipped to hold onto any secret at all.

“It’s just a crush, Daichi,” Suga tried to be convincing, but the will just wasn’t there in his words. He wasn’t even able to tell himself anymore that it was just a crush. And this was what Suga had been so afraid of – developing real and deep feelings towards Oikawa. The almost kiss when he had tried Oikawa’s glasses, and the amount of times Suga had revisited that moment in his mind, was proof enough that it was slowly becoming more than just a crush. It probably had been far more than just a silly crush for some time already. “It’ll pass.”

“Suga.” Daichi placed his hand in a comforting way on Suga’s shoulder. “It’s not just a crush, and I think you know that.”

Suga looked at Daichi for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes. “I hate that you know me so well.”

“No, you don’t.” Daichi stated simply, as just another fact in the world that was nothing but a fact. “You’re glad about it and that’s why you’re here telling me this instead of talking with Asahi or Akaashi.”

“Akaashi knows about the crush.” Suga had told him, they had briefly discussed it. And, although he hadn’t mentioned Asahi, he was sure that Asahi knew too.

“Does he know about the kiss?” Daichi countered with a lifted eyebrow.

Suga fell on his side on the couch, his head tilted in a weird angle to look at nothing in particular, his gaze fixed towards the photo he had taken years ago and given to Daichi as a birthday present. Even without seeing the photo properly, Suga could remember how Daichi had fought back tears when he had opened the gift paper the large framed photo was wrapped in.

“No, he doesn’t know about the kiss.” Suga sighed. “And you can’t tell anyone,” he added, shifting his gaze to look at Daichi.

“I won’t,” Daichi promised straight away with a fond look in his eyes. “Do the others know that you like Oikawa?”

Suga thought about his answer for a moment, only then realizing he didn’t need to think about it at all. “Probably. There’s so much gossip going on all the time, I’m convinced that the walls are held together with them.”

Daichi chuckled. “Does Oikawa know?”

“I hope not,” Suga groaned the words out and straightened to sit up.

“Then you should tell him.”

Suga let out a small sigh, studying Daichi with slightly pursed lips. He took in the steady set of his eyes, the easy-to-trust expression that never faltered, the confident and relaxed way he sat. “Okay,” he agreed and fought hard not to let his smirk show. “I’ll tell him.”

“You will?” Daichi looked taken aback, surprised beyond reason. He clearly hadn’t expected for Suga to just agree to it so willingly.

And he hadn’t. No, no. He had a card up his sleeve, and this was his chance to use it.

“If you tell me what you and Iwaizumi are fighting about.” Suga continued deadly seriously. It bothered him that he didn’t know and he was smart and cunning enough to come up with borderline evil ways to get what he wanted. There must be a reason for Daichi not to divulge the background and origins of the fight, which meant that it was something serious, maybe even... Bad? But Suga was his best friend. What possible reason would Daichi have not to talk to Suga about the fight?

Suga was convinced that he didn’t have any reasons, and was adamant to get answers.

Daichi was struck silent, his eyes wary as he looked at Suga like he was only now seeing him for the first time. It reminded Suga of how they’d met during their first day of high school. He had been bet that he couldn’t drink a bottle of hot sauce someone had stolen from the school kitchen, and the whole affair had gathered quite a crowd, Daichi and Asahi just the two of the twenty or so students who watched with horror and awe how he gulped the sticky sauce down without a moment’s respite.

“You’re scary good at blackmail,” Daichi said in a reverent whisper. “I sometimes forget how cunning you are.” He kept speaking slowly, large eyes studying Suga. “You always appear to be so sweet that the slyness is well hidden.”

“What’s the fight about, Daichi?” Suga asked seriously. “I want to help, but I can’t if I don’t know what it’s about.”

“You don’t need to help.” Daichi said instantly with a shake of his head.

Suga was about to protest that, but Daichi spoke, cutting him off before he had the chance to utter one syllable.

“It’s my fault that we’re fighting, and I’m going to fix it. I don’t need your help. Thank you for offering, but I can do this on my own. I _need_ to do this on my own.”

Suga wondered if it was worth the trouble and try to verbally wrestle Daichi about it. Would he lose or win? Would he lose a friend in the process?

“Fine,” Suga agreed reluctantly. “But I’m still at your disposal if you decide that you’d like the help, or just to talk about it.”

“I know,” Daichi said softly. “Thank you.”

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa was sitting on the living room floor, his laptop on the coffee table in front of him. He was trying to focus on his work, but it seemed futile - his thoughts kept wandering from worry because Suga was visiting Daichi. He wasn’t jealous, but truly worried. Who knew what Daichi might end up telling Suga? Especially about the fight he had had with Iwaizumi.  

During the two or so hours since Suga had left, Oikawa had managed to read through one page of his dissertation. His thoughts were jumbled, every sliver of space between his thoughts on graduating filled with Suga.

Suga who...

Conveniently came home right at that moment.

“Hey,” Suga called out and Oikawa let out an unconscious relieved sigh when he took in the easy smile on Suga’s face.

“Hey,” Oikawa greeted back, while he took in everything about Suga, who was taking off his shoes and coat, in case he was masking worry, anxiousness or sorrow.

But there was nothing of the kind present, and Oikawa let himself breathe as he turned back to rewriting the sentence he had rewritten probably a dozen times already.

“Why are you studying here?” Suga asked when he came to the living room, still wearing his beanie.

“I would never admit this to anyone but you, Suga-chan,” Oikawa started, his fingers suddenly flying on the keyboard. “But my bed was looking too inviting to lie down on so I had to leave my room.”

Suga’s chuckle was soft when he sat down on the couch behind Oikawa. The cold outside air had clung onto Suga, and it gave Oikawa little shivers. Even his hands were cold when they settled on Oikawa’s shoulders, and he could almost smell the earlier rain on Suga.  

“You usually study in the kitchen, though,” Suga spoke softly, the tone of it an extension of his chuckle, as his arms wound around Oikawa’s shoulders.

Because apparently it was a thing that they did now – back hugs.

“I’m bored of the kitchen.” Oikawa answered, leaning back a little. “This is just a change of scenery, that’s all.”

“Alright,” Suga breathed out the word and unfurled his arms. “I’ll leave you alone to study then,” he said and Oikawa could feel how he was about to get up. And that couldn’t happen.

“No, you can stay,” Oikawa rushed to say, looking over his shoulder at Suga. “It’s okay, I like the company.”

Suga was studying his face, searching for something when he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Of course, stay,” Oikawa said again to reaffirm that it was fine, more than just fine, and turned back to his laptop. “I really don’t mind you staying.”

“I don’t want to bother you, though,” Suga said slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure yet if he should stay.

“You won’t,” Oikawa reassured Suga, his mind already back on his work. “We’ve been talking already and it hasn’t really slowed down my progress during it.” Oikawa glanced over his shoulder again. “It really is fine for you to stay. It won’t be long till the game starts anyway.”

“If you’re sure,” Suga said slowly as he settled back on the couch, his knees on either side of Oikawa, barely brushing on them.

“I am,” Oikawa said confidently. “Look how fast I’m writing here.” He boasted, his fingers kicking up speed, making typos here and there that he had to backspace to fix.

“Okay, I believe you,” Suga said while laughing lightly. “But maybe you should focus on what you’re writing instead of how fast you’re writing.”

“Just pretend you didn’t notice the typos,” Oikawa advised Suga. “That way your perfect image of me isn’t ruined.”

“Who said it’s perfect?”

“Agh, Suga-chan!” Oikawa acted offended. “I changed my mind, go away.”

Suga was full on laughing now. “There’s no way I’m going now. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me.”

Oikawa let out a mock-burdened sigh, which prompted Suga to laugh again.

“I’ll be quiet, I promise,” he said when he sobered up, and Oikawa continued on writing.

And Suga stayed true to that promise.

Oikawa wouldn’t have been able to tell whether Suga was there or not without looking, if it wasn’t for the fact that he could still feel Suga’s knees brushing his shoulders and Suga’s gentle fingers combing through his hair – the way they glided through Oikawa’s hair relaxing more than anything.

It took a while for Oikawa to realize what Suga was doing when he kept running his fingers in the same pattern and manner over and over again. “Are you making a ponytail?” he asked, never ceasing his typing.

“Yes.” Suga smiled with his reply. “Your hair really is long enough. Mostly.” Suga pulled the hair higher, letting some strands fall to frame Oikawa’s face, and some to fall free at his neck before Oikawa felt him tie the hair up with a hair tie that he had apparently conjured out of thin air or maybe from the fifth plane of a parallel universe.

“How does it look?” Oikawa was curious to know. He was always curious about the hair tie and where it had come from, but chose not to think too hard on the fact that Terushima had had a ponytail and the hair tie was most likely been left behind.

“Small. There’s about this much hair in the ponytail.” Suga held his fingers to show Oikawa about two centimeters.

“I’ve been meaning to cut my hair.” Oikawa said, for the umpteenth time.

“You don’t need to. It looks good like this too.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa felt like he should say. He always looked good, he knew it, didn’t really matter how his hair was sticking up or flattened down or swirled from being pressed against a pillow.

However, his curiosity about the origins of the hair tie won him over, even though he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know whether it used to be someone else’s. “Where did you find the hair tie?”

“Remember when I told you that Daichi once suggested that I’d grow my hair out enough to pull it into a high ponytail?”

“Yes...?” Oikawa did remember, but he wasn’t ready to believe what he thought Suga was about to say – he didn’t want to get his hopes up prematurely.

“I was once gifted a bag of twenty-one brightly colored thin hair ties as a birthday gift.”

“When you turned twenty-one?”

“Original, wasn’t it?” Suga asked sarcastically.

Oikawa chuckled, liking where Suga was going with his story, and blandly stated, “Very original.”

“I still have all of them in my room, and I carry one with me everywhere I go.”

Oikawa stopped typing and looked over his shoulder at Suga. “No, you don’t.”

“I really do,” Suga insisted with a small smile.

“Why?”

Suga shrugged. “For good luck.”

Oikawa’s expression must’ve looked speculative enough to prompt Suga to explain himself.

“When I was in high school, there was this girl who always had a hair tie around her wrist. Even when she had her hair in a ponytail or a braid, she had that hair tie on her wrist. I asked her about it once, and she said it was for good luck so she wouldn’t lose or misplace anything.”

“No offence, but that sounds a bit fake.”

“Since I got the gift that looked like someone had pulled out Trolls’ intestines and turned them into hair ties for profit –“

“Thanks for the visual.”

“You’re welcome,” Suga said sweetly as if he hadn’t just been interrupted and continued on. “I was reminded of her words and I’ve carried one with me and I’ve never misplaced or lost an item.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes as he looked up to Suga’s honest and sincere eyes.

“I’m serious,” Suga added, seemingly sensing Oikawa’s reluctance to believe him.

“You’ve never lost a thing?”

“Nothing material, no.”

Oikawa hummed in thought, weighing in the possibilities of a simple hair tie’s magical properties, as he turned back to his laptop. “Maybe I should start carrying one with me too. We’ll form a cult around the hair ties and start gifting them to strangers with the slogan ‘wear your Trolls’ intestines around your wrist too! And you’ll never lose your keys again!’”

Suga laughed behind Oikawa, the sound light and _familiar_ and filling Oikawa with indescribable fondness. “You’d definitely be charming enough to be a cult leader.”

“I know, but no thank you.” Oikawa declined the non-offer. “I’m quite content as I am.”

“Hmm, good.” Suga said softly.

Oikawa felt Suga’s arms wrap around his shoulders again – his pinky skimming the skin left exposed by the neckline – and his cheek to lightly press against the top of his head. “Are you going to study during the game as well?”

“No, I’ll finish before that.”

“Good,” Suga said under his breath and Oikawa felt him nuzzle his hair, the touch and movement barely there but still recognizable. He wondered whether Suga did it to smell his hair.

”I need to change,” Suga said with a sigh and withdrew his arms from around Oikawa.  

”Change what?”

”Clothes. I’ll be right back.”

”Alright,” Oikawa said distractedly, but when he noticed Suga’s legs stop by the coffee table, he glanced up at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” Suga shook his head. He was looking at Oikawa with a peculiar expression. “You look – the ponytail suits you.”

“Of course it does,” Oikawa responded, as if Suga’s opinion was obvious, like he had just stated that the sky was in fact blue. “I’m always handsome. I look good in everything.”

“Who said anything about looking good?” Suga sounded a bit baffled. “I just said it suited you.”

“Why are you mean to me?” Oikawa whined and Suga’s smile turned wicked. “Just go and change your clothes already.” He threw a stray pen that he picked up from the table at Suga.

Once Suga had disappeared from sight, Oikawa sighed and rolled his shoulders and his neck. He had been sitting on the floor quite a while now, and he was starting to feel it. He considered moving onto the couch, but the found the idea of balancing the laptop on his legs undesirable.

He probably couldn’t do much else with his dissertation that evening anyway. Or maybe he just didn’t want to, since Suga was home and he had already devoted more than enough time on his studies that day, if anyone were to ask from any of his friends that tended to worry about him and his obsessive nature.

With a deep but content sigh, Oikawa closed his laptop, after dutifully saving his work, and lay down on the couch. There was still some time before the volleyball game he had been looking forward to would start and he was trying to come up with something to do, preferably with Suga, in the meantime.

He couldn’t come up with anything, though. Sure, they could watch some TV, but mindlessly watching whatever was on seemed, well, mindless.

Oikawa turned to his side, pressing his back to the back of the couch, and propped his arm under his head. He didn’t know, nor did he care to ask, why Suga came to sit in the empty space that his curled body made once he was dressed more comfortably in sweats and a hoodie.

Oikawa let out an amused hum when Suga leaned back against him and the back of the couch with a sigh, stretching his legs out and closing his eyes. Oikawa reached his hand up and placed it on Suga’s neck, under his hood, to gently massage it. “By the way, how was Daichi?”

“Not that great,” Suga answered, his eyes opening towards the ceiling. “He wouldn’t talk to me about it, though,” he added as he sat up.

Oikawa’s hand slid down from Suga’s neck to the small of his back. “Did he tell you why they’re fighting?” He had been a little worried that Daichi would reveal the truth to Suga. Who knew what kind of ramifications that might have. Not just for Daichi and Suga’s friendship, but for everyone around them.

“No,” Suga said quietly, and Oikawa believed him. “Do you know?”

Oikawa shook his head a little, his eyes focused on his fingers as he started to curl and flatten them against Suga’s back. He knew it was a lie, and he felt bad lying to Suga. But he felt less bad when he thought of it as a protective white lie.

“Ah,” Suga breathed out suddenly, his head tilting back a bit and his eyes closing to feel the sensation. “Can you scratch there?”

“Here?” Oikawa’s fingers worked softly at scratching Suga’s back.

“A little higher up.”

Oikawa moved his fingers higher.

“And a little bit to the left,” Suga instructed again and Oikawa moved his fingers according to his wishes. He kept up with the soft scratching, moving higher and higher to the space between Suga’s shoulder blades and then slowly back down to the small of his back while Suga breathed in and out in a calm fashion, apparently enjoying the feeling.

The scratching slowly changed into a soft touch, Oikawa’s fingers gently rubbing on one spot in circling motions, while Suga’s expression transformed into one of utter bliss. Neither of them said a word, quite content in the silence, and in the small bubble of them just being alone.

“Let me see this,” Suga spoke up after a while. Oikawa looked up to Suga’s face in question and then down to his hand when Suga took it in his.

“What?” Oikawa asked while Suga inspected his hand.

“I swear you have magic in your fingertips.” Suga said, playing with Oikawa’s fingers.

Oikawa let out a soft and fond chuckle. “I was the best setter in the country at the university level, Suga-chan.”

“And that skill has somehow evolved into the ability to magically erase every itch and sore spot?” Suga sounded a little doubtful, but with a glimmer of hope in his eyes that that was true.

Oikawa smiled at him. “Mm-hm,” he confirmed Suga’s hope. He was studying Suga’s face, while Suga was focused on the play of their fingers. “One day I’ll show you the full extent of my abilities with my hands and how good I can make you feel with them,” he promised, at the same time that Suga pressed their palms together and intertwined their fingers.

Suga’s eyes snapped up to Oikawa’s, but he dropped them back to their locked hands almost immediately.

Oikawa was aware of what he had said. He had said it on purpose. And he was glad to see Suga thinking about it so hard. So, he waited for Suga to say something, while his thumb moved up and down on Suga’s hand _._

Their hands remained locked together for the seconds, minutes, days, who knows how long, that it took Suga to organize his thoughts. Their hands remained locked when Suga turned to sit sideways, one of his legs bent at the knee on the couch, lightly resting against Oikawa’s side.

Oikawa had no idea what Suga was thinking. Sometimes he was easy to read, it was almost instinctive to Oikawa to figure out where Suga’s thoughts were and what he was feeling. But right at that moment, he couldn’t pinpoint the almost vacant and simultaneously pensive expression.

It was more than fair to say that Oikawa was a little taken aback when Suga finally spoke and filled the gentle silence around them with his voice.

“Promise?”

Suga’s eyes were locked on Oikawa’s, the gaze intense enough for Oikawa to feel at the bottom of his empty stomach. Oikawa had never felt so much hope in any of the lingering looks and swift glances he had gotten in his lifetime.

“Promise,” he whispered.

Suga’s responding smile was shy as he dropped his eyes back to their hands, but it was quickly wiped away when Iwaizumi came home only a moment later.

Oikawa and Suga both turned their heads to look at Iwaizumi, who must’ve gone to the gym. He was sweaty and looked a little worn, probably overworking himself, working his frustration about the fight with one of the machines.

“Hey,” Suga greeted Iwaizumi kindly, while Oikawa tried to send his murderous thoughts telepathically to Iwaizumi for coming in right then, interrupting the shared and admittedly charged moment between him and Suga.

“How was work?” Suga asked from Iwaizumi, as if something significant hadn’t just happened in the living room.

Iwaizumi didn’t answer right away, concentrated on kicking off his shoes as he was. Oikawa was still trying to send subtle hints to Iwaizumi to go away, to go home, so he noticed it when Iwaizumi stopped dead, his gaze on the two of them, on their intertwined hands. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked slowly, as if he was processing the scene while he asked about it, his eyebrow rising a little.

Oikawa belatedly realized that Iwaizumi didn’t hang as much in their apartment as their neighbors did, and probably wasn’t as used to seeing the two of them that close and comfortable around each other, easily touching and leaning on each other.

“No,” he answered, his fingers starting to play with Suga’s.

“I’ll take a shower, if that’s okay,” Iwaizumi said then, already walking towards the hallway.  

“Of course,” Suga told him, and then turned back to Oikawa. “Is he mad at me?” Suga whispered right after the sound of the bathroom door closing.

“No.” Oikawa sat up and pulled himself on the couch to lean his back against the armrest. It might’ve seemed like a lie to those who knew what was going on, but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t, and Oikawa knew it. “He’s mad at Daichi and taking it out on you.”

“It sure feels like he’s angry at me,” Suga said quietly as he let go of Oikawa’s hand and went to turn on the TV.

The pregame speculation with three semi-important people in the volleyball world sitting in some studio had already started and it provided the weirdest background music to the moment. But Oikawa found the sound of volleyballs hitting the floor and smacking against hands in warm-up comforting and familiar – as if he was suddenly back in the school’s gym practicing his serves over and over again, the chatter of his teammates filling the large space.

“It’s impossible to get mad at you, you’re too sweet,” Oikawa responded, his eyes following Suga’s movement to the TV and then back to the couch.

He could easily imagine Suga there too, to cheer him on, to remind him to take it easy only to have Oikawa wave the concern away. It was easy to imagine Suga watching his every move, almost as if he knew a thing or two about setting too, and maybe possessed some skills of his own on top of that. It was perfectly reasonable to imagine Suga’s eyes following him around the court to file away everything he saw, his eyes trained on everything Oikawa did – because that’s what they did in the apartment. Oikawa was aware of the way Suga sometimes looked at him, just like he looked at Suga. He had been wary about admitting it to himself, but once he noticed it, he couldn’t unnotice it, always making a note of the way Suga looked at him when he probably thought that Oikawa couldn’t see.

“I’m really not that sweet, though.” Suga laughed, his spirits visibly lifting. He was sitting with his knees bent to the side of him, looking straight at Oikawa, his attention completely on Oikawa. It was indescribably flattering to have that kind of attention and focus and Oikawa’s self-esteem was boosted to all-new heights.

“You really are,” Oikawa affirmed, laughing a little as well. “If you don’t see that, then I have to do something so you realize it.”

It was important, it had become _very_ important for Oikawa that Suga took him seriously about certain matters. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could take his own slips of confessions just for Suga to brush them off as nothing.

“Are you going to start spouting off inspiring quotes at the most random times?” Suga sounded skeptical, and Oikawa was quick to correct that.

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes steady on Suga’s. “I’m going to start aggressively validating you.”

Suga let out a light sputter in response.

“I’m serious,” Oikawa stressed the words. “You’re wonderful and you need to know that.”

“Okay, I believe you.” Suga said, but Oikawa didn’t believe him. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I think I should,” Oikawa mused. “I would only use the loveliest superlatives to describe you.”

“Thanks. You can stop now.”

“No, I can’t.” Oikawa disagreed. “As long as you don’t take my compliments seriously, I’m going to keep validating you.”

“Aggressively?” Suga seemed to want to make sure.

Oikawa took Suga’s hand in his again. “Yes, very aggressively.”

Suga laughed lightly, and Oikawa was pleased. This was a step to the right direction.

“We should probably eat something,” Suga thought out loud then. Oikawa was convinced he only did that to change the subject.

But he went with it, feeling a little hungry himself. He hadn’t eaten anything since the mandarin he had shared with Suga. “What can you cook in less than ten minutes?”

Suga’s brow furrowed. “Why ten minutes?”

“That’s when the game starts.” Oikawa pointed towards the TV with the hand that wasn’t holding onto Suga’s. They were already showing the team statistics and line ups that Oikawa was somewhat following with a stray glance now and then, whenever he noticed the image change in his peripheral vision.

“We have a couple of cups of instant ramen,” Suga suggested lamely, one of his shoulders shrugging.

“I just ate that yesterday.”

“Do you have any suggestions then?”

“Not really, no.”

“I don’t think we have anything in our fridge to heat up.”

“Order in?”

“Okay,” Suga agreed and let go of Oikawa’s hand. He was clearly about to get up, but Oikawa wasn’t having it. For whatever selfish reason he had, he wanted Suga to stay on the couch with him.

“Oikawa!” Suga exclaimed with a giggle when Oikawa’s legs wrapped around his waist from the side. “What are you doing?”

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asked instead of answering Suga’s question. It was very obvious what he was doing, but it wasn’t obvious where Suga was thinking of going.

“I left my phone in my room and I need to get it to order food for us.”

“No, you can’t go,” Oikawa said softly, strong with his resolve to keep Suga close to him.

“Well,” Suga drawled, looking around him in the living room. “Where’s your phone?”

“In my room.”

“Then I definitely need to get up or we won’t be able to eat.”

“No, you can’t go.” Oikawa repeated himself and crossed his ankles to keep his legs steady around Suga.

“Oikawa,” Suga laughed out of frustration. “Let me go.” He looked pleadingly to Oikawa.

“Nope,” Oikawa shook his head with a slight smirk. He _loved_ having Suga so close to him. Maybe a little too much but that was a concern to worry about later. If Suga figured it out here, that Oikawa liked him, then so be it.

Suga laughed lightly again, trying to push Oikawa legs open and away from him. “We’ll starve.”

“Too bad,” Oikawa kept speaking with the happy grin, leaning back to his hands on the couch, his head a little tilted to look at Suga and how adorable he was when he was slightly blushed.

“I really want to hit you,” Suga stated bluntly, but there was no real threat in his voice.

“Please don’t, I’ll freak out.” Oikawa said without any inflection in his voice and he saw Suga roll his eyes good-naturedly. It was quite possible that Suga wasn’t all that bothered by the situation at all, of the way Oikawa had wrapped his legs around him.

“You’re impossible,” Suga said through his clenched jaw, focusing all his efforts on getting Oikawa’s legs away from him.

“I know.” Oikawa was thoroughly unsurprised by the strength at which Suga was trying to wrench his legs off. It was turning bothersome and a lot of work to keep his legs locked against Suga’s efforts to push them away.  “That’s why you like me.”

Suga stopped struggling and fell back in weariness to lean against the back of the couch, trapping Oikawa’s leg between his back and the couch. He seemed to accept his fate to be locked in Oikawa’s legs. “I guess, at times, when you’re nice,” he replied to Oikawa’s off-handed but fully-meant statement, his gaze tilted up to the ceiling lamp before he turned his head to look at Oikawa. “But right now I really don’t.” Suga stressed his last two words by punching Oikawa’s thigh.

“That’s a lie,” Oikawa said confidently, unbothered by the punch that was as half-assed as it could be. “You like my legs and you like them wrapped around you.”

Suga hit Oikawa again. “Shut up,” he said under his breath, with a smile.

The hit once again didn’t hurt, and Oikawa chuckled. “Ow,” he said lamely. “Why are you so violent?”

“I’m being held against my will. Of course I’m going to retaliate.”

“Do you really mind it that much?” Oikawa asked softly. If Suga really did mind it, and Oikawa suspected he didn’t – he’d let Suga go in a heartbeat.

Suga was silent for a second that turned into ten long seconds, during which Oikawa studied Suga – his expression, the smallest imperfections that didn’t seem so when one looked at the big picture, the way his chest rose and fell lightly with his breathing, how his eyelashes brushed his cheeks when he closed his eyes.

“No, I don’t mind it.”

It was quiet, but it made Oikawa smile like he had just won the lottery. He reached out with his hand, still leaning back a bit to his other hand, and brushed Suga’s hair to the side from his forehead. The touch was soft and deliberate, yet still hesitant, his fingertips ghosting on Suga’s skin.

What could’ve been one of their softest and cutest moments was sadly interrupted when Iwaizumi came to the living room. His hair was wet, but he was dressed. Oikawa wasn’t sure if he was dismayed or not. His thoughts on Iwaizumi’s appearance where halted when he noticed how Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow when his gaze fell on them.

“Is this normal for you two?”

“Yes,” Oikawa answered.

“No,” Suga denied simultaneously.

Iwaizumi seemed to believe Suga, as he said to no one in particular, “Good, I was worried this was just for me.”

Maybe he had believed Oikawa then?

Suga took advantage of Oikawa’s distracted mind, preoccupied with the slightly weird way Iwaizumi was acting, and pushed Oikawa’s leg off and got up.

“Agh!” Oikawa whined when Suga slipped away from him, as if a vital organ had been crudely pulled from his body with a none-too-gentle hand. “Suga-chan!” 

“I’m going to order us food.” Suga fixed his shirt that had gotten twisted around him. “What would you like Iwaizumi?” he asked kindly from the man who was doing his best to ignore him.

Iwaizumi didn’t answer Suga as he walked past the couch they had been sitting and lying and who knows, maybe performing Cirque du Soleil levels of artistic tumbling on, and went to the kitchen.

“Iwa-chan will eat anything.” Oikawa answered Suga and with a small nod to Oikawa and a wary glance shot at Iwaizumi, who had grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge, he left the living room.

Oikawa straightened to sit up like a normal and civil human being, still sideways on the couch, just as Iwaizumi came to the same couch with him.

“You need to stop being mad at Suga.” Oikawa opened the dialogue with his don’t-give-me-bullshit-tone of voice. “If you’re mad at your boyfriend, be mad at him. Stop taking it out on his best friend, when he has nothing to do with the whole thing.”

“How do you know Suga has nothing to do with it? You don’t know what it’s like to find out that someone you love has been secretly in love with his best friend for years.”

“He’s not in love with Suga anymore, idiot.” Oikawa kicked Iwaizumi’s thigh lightly. “It’s not fair of you to take your anger out on Suga. None of this is his fault.”

Iwaizumi sighed. “I know.”

Oikawa didn’t expect Iwaizumi give in so easily, but he wasn’t done with his piece either, so he continued.

“If you keep ignoring Suga and acting like he isn’t in the room, he’s going to be convinced that you’re mad at him and he’s going to find out what’s really going on.”

“Wait,” Iwaizumi stopped Oikawa and looked at him in mild surprise. “Suga doesn’t know why I’m here?”

“He knows you two had a fight, he doesn’t know what about.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“Of course not.” Oikawa had a derisive note in his tone. “I’m not stupid like you.” Oikawa couldn’t pass up an opportunity to gibe him. “Do you realize what it’ll do to their friendship if Suga finds out that Daichi used to be in love with him?”

“It’ll ruin it.” Iwaizumi said bluntly, but Oikawa knew that he did care about that prospect.

“I know you want to be mad at Daichi, and that’s fine with me. But even if Suga’s here and it’s convenient for you to take it out on him instead of Daichi, you shouldn’t do it.”

“Okay, I get it.” Iwaizumi’s eyes were brewing with an oncoming storm. Oikawa knew he didn’t want to be told things that he already knew. “You don’t need to drive the nail so hard through my head.”

“I think I do,” Oikawa disagreed, but he wasn’t as forceful with his words anymore.

They fell into a contemplative silence. Oikawa was wondering if he should get a bigger metaphorical hammer to drive an even bigger nail through Iwaizumi’s head, while the experts of volleyball droned on in the background.

“Since when do you care about other people so much?” Iwaizumi asked, breaking the lull.

Oikawa looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean ‘since when’? I’ve always cared about other people.” Oikawa defended himself, coming off a little haughty with it, but it was part of his nature.

“Not to this extent, you haven’t.” Iwaizumi pointed out. “I’ve never seen you so protective of others.”

“How can you say that?”

“You’ve changed,” Iwaizumi said with a speculative head tilt, his eyes scrutinizing Oikawa. “When did that happen? How didn’t I notice it?”

“How should I know?” Oikawa asked sincerely, but with an annoyed hint in his tone. In his opinion, he hadn’t changed. At all. But Iwaizumi wasn’t alone with his comment about Oikawa changing.

Maybe he was just maturing. Maybe it had been building in him for a long time, like an old house that changed a little bit with every new coat of paint or a kitchen plumbing renovation. The changes were so small and insignificant on their own that they went unnoticed until they accumulated enough to appear as a bigger change.

“Will you stop looking at me like you’re trying to see through my clothes? I’m still the sculpted god you used to date if you must know.”

Iwaizumi looked away, the smallest hint of a smile ghosting on his lips. “I didn’t, but thanks for sharing.”

“If you’re horny go and see Daichi. I bet the make up sex would be good for you.”

“Why do you call him that?”

“What?” Oikawa wasn’t following Iwaizumi, probably for the first time in his life.

“Why do you call Daichi ‘Daichi’? And not Sawamura or some annoying nickname.”

“He asked me to.”  Oikawa answered like it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. He wasn’t an asshole.

“And you just agreed to it?” Iwaizumi sounded incredulous, as he should be. Oikawa _could_ be an asshole if he wanted to, he just didn’t think of it that way.

“Of course not.” Oikawa scoffed, but his voice was softer when he spoke again. “But I saw how good he was for you and how happy you were with him that I wanted to play nice.” He might’ve been a little resentful about it too, but that wasn’t important for Iwaizumi to know.

“You really have changed.” Iwaizumi seemed almost in awe.

Oikawa kicked him again, mostly to prove that he hadn’t changed, but a little bit also because he was Iwaizumi who was being stupid about this stupid fight – and he happened to be at a kicking distance.

Iwaizumi retaliated instantly, clearly done with all the kicking, and slapped Oikawa’s upper arm hard with his free hand.  

“Shit, you can hit hard.” Oikawa rubbed on the sore spot to dull the sting and moved to the other couch, careful to sit sideways to turn his back at least a little towards Iwaizumi. He wasn’t at all happy about the content smirk on Iwaizumi’s face.

“Food is ordered.” Suga announced when he came back and stopped behind the couch Oikawa had moved onto.

“Good, I’m starving,” Oikawa said, still lightly rubbing on his arm, as he shot a look at Iwaizumi to tell him to be nice.

Iwaizumi seemed to catch on, as he addressed Suga. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his sincerity masked although it was there.

There was no surprise on Suga’s face, just a small smile, when he looked at Iwaizumi. “No problem.”

“Come sit down.” Oikawa pulled on Suga’s shirt hem now that the atmosphere in the living room was friendly between all of them. “The game is about to start.”

As if on cue from Oikawa’s words, the players were introduced to the court.

“If I sit down I won’t be able to get up when the food gets here,” Suga spoke. “My feet will decide to fall asleep the moment my butt hits the couch.”

“That’s okay.” Oikawa brushed such small worries away. “Iwaizumi can go to the downstairs door. He’s a guest.”

“Exactly, he’s a guest. That isn’t hospitable, Oikawa.”

“Who cares?”

Suga made a disapproving head tilt. “I care.”

“It’s okay, Suga,” Iwaizumi intervened. “I’ll go.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I really don’t mind going.”

“See?” Oikawa asked with barely contained triumph, gesturing towards Iwaizumi with an open palm, and looking up at Suga with unhidden giddy feeling of winning. “Sit down.” He pulled on Suga’s shirt again.

Suga resisted for about a second before he stepped over the back of the couch and sat down by Oikawa’s legs.

Oikawa withdrew one of his legs and bent it at the knee to make room for Suga, and slung his other leg over Suga’s in a carefree manner.

“We’re rooting for the South Korean team, right?” Suga asked with a poorly suppressed grin as he brought a throw pillow to his lap and hugged it lazily in his arms.

“Yah!” Oikawa poked Suga’s side with his toes. “Why are you so mean?”

Suga swatted Oikawa’s thigh in retaliation.

“You’re really strong. Stop hitting me.”

“I’m really not that strong,” Suga disagreed and lightly hit Oikawa again on the same spot, on the leg that was still as relaxed as ever resting over Suga’s legs.

“You really are.”

“Is this about that validation thing?”

“Yes,” Oikawa answered easily. His focus in that moment wasn’t on Suga though, but on the setter of the Japan’s team. He already hated the setter a bit because he knew him, but he wasn’t as annoyed by him as he usually was, probably thanks to Suga’s close presence.

“What validation thing?” Iwaizumi asked.

In all honesty, Oikawa had almost forgotten that he was even in the same room, Suga’s proximity all-consuming. “It’s nothing.” He didn’t feel like explaining what he was doing to Iwaizumi. It wasn’t a big deal, just something that he felt Suga needed, especially so close to his exhibit.

Suga would probably never admit to feeling anxious or worried or stressed about it, but Oikawa could tell that he was just a little bit, and most likely only because it was the first time under management.

“Oikawa is trying to aggressively validate me for some reason. I think he’s up to something.” Suga answered Iwaizumi’s question when Oikawa’s answer didn’t seem to be accurate enough for him.

“You’re validating people now?” Iwaizumi sounded borderline incredulous. “When did that start?”

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Suga asked.

Suddenly Oikawa wasn’t so sure if he was happy that the earlier cold shoulder Iwaizumi had reserved for Suga was gone. Not when they talked about him like he was E.T.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi replied to Suga before he addressed Oikawa again. “You don’t validate others. Ever.”

“I do,” Oikawa protested with a whine. “I just don’t do it out loud.” It wasn’t a strange concept for him to think highly of someone or something. He just didn’t usually voice it, since he usually could do as well or even better.

“No, I think you really don’t do it.” Iwaizumi sounded convinced, but he was wrong. “I’ve never witnessed you do that.”

Oikawa raised his eyebrows. “Really? When we were dating, I never validated you or praised your skills?”

Iwaizumi seemed to consider his reply. And that was an answer enough for Oikawa, who focused back on the game.

“It’s still weird.” Suga agreed with Iwaizumi.

Oikawa shot a wide smirk towards him. “You’re weird too.”

“I know that,” Suga replied with a similar smile.

“I know that too,” Oikawa said and poked Suga with his toes again, tickling him.

Suga swatted him again.

“Stop hitting me, you really are strong and I don’t want to be all black and blue with bruises.”

Suga’s response of course was another slap. “I’m nowhere near as strong as Iwaizumi.” 

“Hm, that’s true, but only because no one is.” Oikawa agreed with him. “It’s funny how he has the arms and Daichi has the legs.”

“You mean they’re meant to be together?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

“I know what you’re trying to do Oikawa, and it’s not working.  I’m not going to talk to him.” Iwaizumi spoke up from the other couch, his voice low and a bit threatening.

“You should. He misses you.” Suga told him with a tinge of empathy in his voice. It really was a miracle to Oikawa over and over again when he witnessed Suga’s kindness towards others when their behavior didn’t warrant it.

“Good.” Iwaizumi muttered the word.

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder at him, and saw a small smile tugging on his lips despite the scowl in his eyes. Was Iwaizumi teaching Daichi a lesson? It made sense – after all, Iwaizumi was here, in Oikawa’s apartment even though they weren’t supposed to spend nights in the same apartment.

Suga looked at Oikawa questioningly when he turned his head back, and Oikawa rolled his eyes as an answer.

Iwaizumi caught their silent conversation. “Is that what you do here? Gossip about others and when you’re called out on it you switch to the nonverbal couples’ communication thing?”

“No,” Oikawa and Suga said at the same time.

“This is just to annoy you,” Oikawa added with a smirk and he snickered when he heard Iwaizumi groan, really groan as if the entire world and everyone in it was somehow annoying and inconveniencing him with their very existence. It was sometimes too easy to rile up Iwaizumi that it had lost some of its charm by now. But sometimes it was delightfully enjoyable to watch how deep Iwaizumi’s lines between his eyebrows could grow.

“It amazes me how you can tease Iwaizumi like that,” Suga said, truly sounding a little awed.

Oikawa furrowed his brow a little in response. “What do you mean? You always tease Daichi.”

“But it’s different with us. We never dated. There was no sex or love so it’s just been friendly, strictly between two best friends.”

Oikawa shot a quick glance to Iwaizumi again, to see how he had reacted to Suga’s words.

“With you two there’s the added package of a past relationship,” Suga continued, speaking to both Oikawa and Iwaizumi now.

Iwaizumi was staring at Suga with an unreadable expression. “You never had deeper feelings than that for Daichi?”

It probably went without saying it, but none of them were following the game now – they were too immersed in their own personal drama.

“No, he’s not exactly my type. He’s too...” Suga trailed off, looking far away as if trying to think of an end to his sentence.

“Vanilla,” Oikawa finished the sentence and Suga looked at him.

Suga nodded. “Vanilla is a good word to describe it.”

“And you think you’re spicier then, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi’s tone hinted to the underlining question _“and you think you’re Suga’s type?”_  

“Of course!” Oikawa confirmed immediately. “I’m the spiciest spice there is.”

Suga’s eyebrows were slightly raised when he looked at Oikawa, as if he didn’t quite agree with him and wasn’t sure if he should voice that opinion. “No offence, but you really aren’t,” he said though.

“Yeah, I think that title goes to Suga,” Iwaizumi agreed with him.

As glad as Oikawa was to see Iwaizumi bury the hatchet that shouldn’t have existed in the first place, he was a little offended. “Excuse me, if Suga is a spice, it’s honey.”

Suga let out a delighted small laughter. “And you’re pepper.”

“Pepper?”

“Gives flavor to dishes, but if you put too much it’s just _bad.”_ Suga made a face of distaste at the last word.

Oikawa placed his hand over his heart. “I’m hurt.” He faked the emotional wound, even though there was the unmistakable compliment in Suga’s words too. “How could you hurt me like this?”

“It’s the truth,” Suga said calmly but with a soft smile, as if Oikawa’s emotional hurt didn’t affect him at all. “Learn to accept it.”

“No.” Oikawa sniffled and turned his face away from Suga. “I’m too hurt now to ever get off this couch. You’ll have to bury me here.” He threw his arm over his eyes in over-dramatic fashion. “I want a sorrowful parade in my honor with an overabundance of glitter thrown everywhere and someone famous to sing ‘I’ve had the time of my life’.”

“How are you this dramatic?” Suga sounded more amused than worried or apologetic.

“He’s always been,” Iwaizumi said.

“And now there’s an audience to act for.” Suga stated with a nodding motion, as if he just realized it and as if he’d always known that Oikawa would act like this.

“There’s no need for an audience when I’m stating the truths here too.” Oikawa defended himself, his voice rising a little with honest defense for himself.

“Aha,” Suga said. “Instead of the glitter and the parade and the singing, how about you don’t die?” His offer was sweet and accompanied with a lovely smile, all for Oikawa, so he couldn’t be too mad at Suga anymore. Not that he’d been in the first place, but still.

“No one lives forever, Suga-chan.”

“Maybe you’ll be the first one,” he said in a kind voice, and Oikawa appreciated him for that.

“I want a lifetime supply of milk bread if you want me to keep on living.”

Suga hummed in thought while his fingers drummed lightly on Oikawa’s knee, definitely taking his time just to tease Oikawa a little more, before he agreed with the biggest sigh of absolute burden.

Oikawa flashed a wide grin at Suga.

“You’re unbelievable, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi said, the shake of his head evident in just his voice.

“I know.” Oikawa was happy about the compliment.

“You realize you just manipulated a lifetime supply of milk bread out of Suga?”

“Who said I’m making it?” Suga asked, first from Iwaizumi before he moved his eyes to look at Oikawa. “He can have all the milk bread he wants, but there was no deal about where he’s getting it.”

Oikawa gasped, still playing the Oscar worthy role of himself in his own biography movie. “You would give me subpar milk bread out of spite?”

“Yes, I would.” Suga stated.

Oikawa made another gasp.

“How can you think of Suga as honey, I’ll never understand.” Iwaizumi shook his head. “I didn’t ask to actually hear your answer, so shut up finally. I want to watch the game.”

Oikawa didn’t answer Iwaizumi, but only because he wanted to hold onto the mock-sullen pout, his arms crossed in front of his chest, as if he was a toddler who didn’t get the candy he wanted.

“I can make you milk bread tomorrow, if you want,” Suga leaned in closer to whisper.

“You will?” Oikawa asked hopefully. He really wanted milk bread, now that it had been mentioned so many times.

“I’ll even throw glitter in the air and dance around you in a one person parade if that makes you feel better.” Suga said it with a tongue on his cheek, so Oikawa knew he wasn’t completely serious about his offer. But he still wouldn’t put it past Suga not to do something like that, just for the fun of it.

“It does, thank you,” Oikawa said with a wide and happy grin, the pout forgotten and arms uncrossed.

“I’m not participating in that,” Iwaizumi snapped.

“Who asked you to?” Oikawa asked genuinely. Iwaizumi’s milk bread was nowhere near as good as Suga’s was. No one’s was. Suga really had ruined him for anyone else’s milk bread.

“It’s already seven – five to South Korea.” Iwaizumi pointed towards the TV with the bottle in his hand. “And I have no idea how that happened because you keep talking.”

“We’ve practically lost already.” Oikawa retorted sarcastically, to which Suga chuckled airily.

“Just shut up,” Iwaizumi advised – yes, that was a nice word to describe the blatant threat in his voice. “I want to actually watch this without the commentary track that has nothing to do with volleyball.”

“But we’re delightful.” Suga said with overdone chirp in his voice, but they did quiet down, for everyone’s peace of mind.

Iwaizumi didn’t get to watch the game, though, for their food was delivered then, conveniently for everyone else but Iwaizumi.  With a displeased grumble, while Oikawa smirked far too widely for it to be healthy, Iwaizumi put his empty beer bottle down on the coffee table and got up. It didn’t take longer than a minute or two for him to come back, but it did leave Oikawa alone with Suga for a moment.

“Do you still think that he’s mad at you?” Oikawa asked quietly, poking Suga softly on his side with his toes the second that their front door closed.

“No,” Suga answered just as quietly, his eyes fixed on the game. “At least he doesn’t seem to be.”

“I told you,” Oikawa said, a bit too arrogantly maybe but Suga didn’t seem to mind. “You’re too wonderful for anyone to be angry at.”

“You flatter me,” Suga said flatly.

Oikawa chuckled a little at the lack of enthusiasm in Suga’s voice. “And even at the off-chance that someone happens to be mad at you, there’s always someone who will defend you against the haters.”

Suga looked at Oikawa, his eyebrows slightly raised in question. “Do you mean someone like you?”

“Maybe,” Oikawa flirted with all his might.

“Thanks, I guess,” Suga said back, turning away again to watch the game.

“You’re welcome,” Oikawa replied, poking Suga again with his toes.

“Stop tickling me,” Suga said, the back of his hand lightly slapping Oikawa’s knee. It was clear he was barely following the game, and Oikawa used that knowledge to his own advantage, to keep teasing Suga.

“I have to tickle you.”

“You _have to?”_ Suga asked with an incredulous note in his voice. “Why on earth do you _have_ to tickle me?”

Oikawa smirked, tickling Suga again. “Because it’s fun.”

Suga gave up on pretending of watching the game and turned in his spot on the couch to swat at Oikawa everywhere he could reach.

It didn’t hurt Oikawa at all, the slaps playful, and with both of them laughing.

The scene must’ve been something else for Iwaizumi to see when he came back, with the delicious smell of food suddenly in their apartment making everyone’s stomachs growl with hunger.

“You’re both really weird,” Iwaizumi made a passing comment as he put the food down on the coffee table.

“Yes, we know, thank you for the news.” Oikawa smiled happily, while Suga sat down normally again.

“We need something to drink too,” Oikawa pointed out then as he watched Iwaizumi unload the food.

“It’s your turn to go,” Iwaizumi replied, without missing a beat.

“I volunteer Oikawa too,” Suga chimed in.

“Anyone of us could go.” Oikawa made a point, since all of them were sitting, it would inconvenience any of them to get up, and since they all had two working legs, any of them really could go.

“If anyone can go, then someone who isn’t me should.” Suga stated.

Oikawa looked between Suga and Iwaizumi, and thought about his options. “How about I hold onto your food until you bring us something to drink?” He asked from Suga, holding the container in his arms, protecting it from outside forces and evils of the world.

“I can hold onto it too,” Suga offered with a sweet smile and took it easily from Oikawa. “Thank you. I’ll have a coke.”

“You just want me to go because you want to look at my ass.”

“Yes, I do.” Suga admitted straight away without any expression. “Now, go.” He pushed on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Fine, I’ll give you an unobstructed view of my sweet ass.” Oikawa faked the burdened huff as he got up. “Make sure you watch me too.”

“I probably won’t.”

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen. To his disappointment, Suga wasn’t looking after him, but down to his food. But then again, the way he seemed concentrated on it gave the impression that he was trying extremely hard _not_ to look – and it made Oikawa smile.

“Do you want me to walk backwards there?” he called over to ask, their drinks in his arms.

“And risk you falling over? No thank you,” Iwaizumi answered. “Just walk like a normal human being.”

“There’s no risk of me falling. I’m as graceful as a swan.”

Iwaizumi sputtered. “Since when?”

“Since always,” Oikawa stated, a little arrogantly. “Here you go.” He handed a bottle of beer to Iwaizumi, who took it eagerly.

“You’re welcome,” Oikawa said pointedly, prompting for Iwaizumi to only then say his thanks, just as he was giving Suga his soda.

“Thank you,” Suga said without a prompt, and at that very moment, and probably forever since they met, Suga was Oikawa’s favorite person in the world.

“You’re very welcome,” Oikawa said with a genuine smile as he sat back down on the couch, sideways of course, his leg quickly, and once again, slung over Suga’s crossed legs. “You didn’t look,” he said then, quietly enough for Iwaizumi not to hear, but loud enough for it to go unheard by Suga. Honestly, how could he not mention it, when he made it the whole point for him to get up?

“Did you want me to die?” Suga asked bluntly, looking straight at Oikawa with utmost seriousness, a hint in his voice of overdoing and faking it. “Or go blind? Because your ass is like an eclipse and looking straight at it would have definitely blinded me.”

Oikawa snickered, feeling more than just pleased upon hearing the blatant flirting. Suga’s answer was kind of perfect, and it told Oikawa more than Suga probably realized. Oikawa was already quite aware that Suga liked him, at least a little bit and enough to call Suga out on it now and then – no matter how much Suga denied or downplayed it whenever it was pointed out. But none of that could even overshadow a comment like Suga’s, since apparently he really appreciated Oikawa’s ass, like everyone would and should do.

And just like that, every doubt he had had about Suga disappeared in a mere fraction of a second, like dust that someone blew off of an old book cover.

Unfortunately, unfairly so, they weren’t alone and the dust, also known in this instance as flecks of doubt, hovered in the air, ready to settle down somewhere else.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the flirting, but can we focus on the game?” Iwaizumi cut in, spoiling a moment that could have been sweet as honey, soft as cotton candy, and lovely as a sunny summer day. “We’ve already missed the first set.”

Oikawa sighed in disappointment, while Suga apologized. There was the slightest blush on Suga’s cheeks when he turned his head away, but Oikawa could’ve easily imagined it.

What he didn’t imagine, though, was the soft smile on Suga’s lips, and the hand that was casually resting on his thigh, while Suga used the other one to eat.

Twenty or so minutes later all of them were talked and teased out, with their bellies full of warm food, and Oikawa was starting to feel a bit sleepy as he slumped a little lower with his back against the armrest.

But Suga seemed even more tired, leaning his side against Oikawa’s bent leg, his head pillowed on his arm that he had rested against Oikawa’s knee.

“Tired?” Oikawa whispered to him, his fingers absentmindedly gently running through Suga’s hair.

“A little,” Suga admitted and hid a yawn behind his hand. “I woke up too early.”

Oikawa hummed in acknowledgement of Suga’s words, his fingers settling at Suga’s nape to twirl the hair there.

“I’m fine to watch the rest of the game, though.”

“You can lie down,” Oikawa suggested softly, pulling gently on Suga’s shirt with his other hand, towards himself.

Suga looked at Oikawa with nothing but questions. Oikawa answered him by moving the leg Suga was leaning on to the side, so Suga had no other choice but to lie down there, between Oikawa’s legs, or straighten up.

Oikawa was beyond delighted when Suga found lying down more appealing than sitting normally, and rested his head on Oikawa’s chest. And Oikawa found Suga’s weight on him welcoming, the way Suga fit there perfect in every sense of the word.

“Can you see the game from there?” Oikawa made sure when he felt Suga move a little to put his hand under his head. He was quite sure that Suga could feel his rapidly beating heart against the open palm.

Suga nodded his head. “Yeah,” he said in a whisper, his breath tickling on Oikawa’s bare arm, thanks to the t-shirt he was wearing – the soft gust of air barely strong enough to feel, but still enough to raise goosebumps.

“Good,” Oikawa whispered back, his fingers finding their way into Suga’s hair again to absently play with it while he continued to focus on the game.

Oikawa wasn’t sure how much of their soft and quiet exchange Iwaizumi had heard, or when he had noticed the way they were now lying. He wondered how they might’ve looked to Iwaizumi with Suga lying on his stomach between Oikawa’s legs like he belonged there.

“Is Suga asleep?” Iwaizumi asked quietly, but not quite in a whisper, when there was a lull in the game during a timeout.

“No,” Oikawa and Suga answered together.

 

 

...

 

 

“The game is over, Suga-chan.”

Oikawa nudged Suga, who was still lying on his stomach between Oikawa’s legs, but who was now sleeping, or at least dozing off now and then.

“I know,” Suga responded, the words stretched by his yawn. “We won. Go us.” Suga’s voice was far from enthusiastic, and it made Oikawa chuckle a little.

“We need to get up now,” he said, nudging Suga again.

“No, I don’t want to.”

Oikawa’s heart threatened to burst with fondness when he heard Suga’s sleepy voice refusing, and Suga’s arms wrapping around him.

“Come on, Iwaizumi is a real live adult and has to wake up early for work.”

“I have to be there at six.” Iwaizumi cut in. He had already gotten ready for bed, and was in middle of making up the couch he had been sitting on during the game for sleeping.

“I don’t envy you,” Suga said to Iwaizumi, tightening his arms around Oikawa.

Oikawa’s smile was wide with barely contained happiness when he felt how tight Suga was holding onto him. “Come on, Suga-chan.” If Iwaizumi was grumpy on a good day, it was nothing compared to how he was when he was tired and impatient, and Oikawa wanted to avoid that – thus urging and hurrying Suga to get up as softly as he could.

“No, I’m comfortable here.”

“I can carry you then.”

“Don’t you dare.” Suga’s voice dropped with his threat. “I don’t think my confidence could take you carrying me anymore.”

“Why?” Oikawa asked honestly. “I thought you liked it.”

“Mm, night-night.” Suga avoided answering Oikawa by burrowing closer to Oikawa, as if he was getting more comfortable to fall asleep there.

“If you want to keep cuddling me, that’s fine. We can do that in my bed too,” Oikawa suggested, knowing fully well how it sounded and how it might breach on some lines that he had subconsciously drawn on the sand when he had started to subtly show Suga how much he liked him. But like the constant wave smoothing out the footprints on the sand, his want for Suga kept washing over the line, wiping it into nothing, like it had never existed. And maybe it hadn’t, not consciously at least. He didn’t even care that Iwaizumi heard what he had just said to Suga.

“If I’m going to get up, I might as well go to my own bed to sleep.” Suga said, nuzzling his nose lightly against Oikawa’s chest.

“Do what you want, as long as you get up.” Iwaizumi cut in impatiently, and Oikawa pushed on Suga’s shoulder.

“Fine,” Suga drawled, groggily pushing himself to sit first. “Goodnight, Iwaizumi,” he said then as he stood up, his eyes half-closed with lingering want to sleep.

“Night, Suga,” Iwaizumi wished back, but his eyes were on Oikawa, the gaze heavy and knowing.

Oikawa was about to follow in Suga’s footsteps, but when he heard Iwaizumi talk, he stopped, happy that Iwaizumi had decided to wait until Suga had left before he said a word.

“You really like him, I can see it.”

Oikawa turned to look at Iwaizumi. “What gave you that idea?”

Iwaizumi wasn’t wrong, of course he liked Suga, and they had already talked about it, on several occasions. But Iwaizumi just stating it like that piqued Oikawa’s interest. Why was Iwaizumi saying it now?

“From the way you kept smiling through the whole evening.” Iwaizumi sat down on the couch, fiddling with his cellphone, probably to set up an alarm. “Is that how you two always flirt or was it that heavy just because I’m here?”

“It’s not always heavy like that,” Oikawa admitted.

“You two already act like you’re in relationship.” Iwaizumi put his phone down and looked up to Oikawa with surprisingly gentle eyes.

Oikawa’s smile widened for a second before he swallowed it away.

“I don’t think anything’s going to change much for you two when you finally tell him that you love him,” Iwaizumi continued.

Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was right – he and Suga were already very close and comfortable with and around each other. Any outsider giving them the slightest passing glance would mistake them for a couple. It sometimes seized Oikawa, when he realized how happy the thought made him, whenever he thought of living with Suga.

With nothing to add to what Iwaizumi had said, and with nothing to say in response, he turned off the lights in the living room and left Iwaizumi alone with a quiet wish for a good night.

Oikawa went straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash up for bed. He could see that the lights were on Suga’s room when he walked past it, and they were still on when he went to his own room.

But when he got back to his room, he found that he wasn’t tired. He could study, but he had left his laptop in the living room and he didn’t feel like going back to get it. Besides, he was feeling happy and warm inside to such an extent, that he found the thought of slipping back into focused mode somehow unfitting.

He wondered what else he could do, and of course Suga was the first thing that popped into his head. He could go and check what Suga was up to – the lights had been on.

Without thinking too much about it, Oikawa strode to Suga room, to find that the door was open now. “Suga-chan?” he asked quietly, not to disturb Iwaizumi, and knocked lightly on the doorframe.

“Yeah?” Suga’s voice was muffled, coming from somewhere far away. 

“Where are you?” Oikawa asked, stepping into Suga’s room and looking around him. The room was orderly and clean, as it always was. Suga didn’t own too many things, which probably helped with keeping things in order, but on top of that, Oikawa knew that Suga was a tidy person so it really wasn’t a surprise that his room looked as it did – with everything in their place.

“Closet,” Suga answered to Oikawa’s question.

“Are you decent?” Oikawa joked when he went to lie down on Suga’s bed.

“No.”

“How many times do you change your clothes in a day?” Oikawa asked in passing, his eyes listlessly looking up to the ceiling, very aware of the fact that he could just turn his head to the left and he could see straight into Suga’s closet.

“I’m changing into my pajama. And not that many times a day. I only change my jeans when I come home from somewhere. I don’t feel comfortable in them at home.”

“They’re tight, so that makes sense.” Oikawa tried to focus on the ceiling, the desire to see Suga strong and hard to resist.

“They’re not really all that tight, just kind of unyielding material.”

“No, I know. They’re more like the straight and slim style that makes your legs look really long, but your ass looks really good in the so they must be well fitted around there.”

Suga was silent for a few seconds, while Oikawa wondered how abnormally long it was taking for Suga to change his clothes.

“You pay attention to that?” Suga finally responded after a _long_ silence to Oikawa’s carelessly voiced observation.

Oikawa silently cursed himself and his loud mouth and the stupid brain to mouth filter that seemed to only work during business hours. “No,” he denied with his eyes closed, telepathically willing for Suga to pass by what he’d said earlier.

“Okay,” Suga voice wasn’t muffled anymore and Oikawa heard the closet door close. “I don’t believe you, but okay.” He jumped on the bed then – Oikawa could tell he jumped, since he bounced a bit on the mattress – and lay down on his stomach, his face pressed against Oikawa’s stomach.

Oikawa let out a delighted small laugh at the sudden contact. “Tired?” he asked, opening his eyes to see Suga.

“Not really,” Suga mumbled against his stomach, the words tickling Oikawa through his thin shirt, and then lifted his head up to look at him. “Not since I was forced to get up. Are you?”

Oikawa shook his head as an answer.

Suga turned to his side and brought his arm on Oikawa’s stomach to rest his head on it. “How come you’re not studying then?”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Oikawa answered honestly and started to card his fingers through Suga’s hair. It reminded Oikawa of woven silver with the way it shone in the light, even though he knew better, that the color was more ash blond than silver. Still, it was quite pretty.

“That must be a first.” Suga tilted his chin up to look at him again. It wasn’t really a question, but Suga’s voice rose a little in the end, as if he was asking for confirmation.

“Not really. Besides, I’m pretty much done with it already.”

“I noticed you were just rewording what you had already written.”

“I want it to be perfect.”

“I know.” Suga’s voice was soft when he spoke, a quiet lull in it. Oikawa wasn’t sure whether it was because Iwaizumi was trying to sleep in the living room and Suga wanted to be quiet because of him, or because he was trying to recreate another tender moment between them.

Oikawa hoped for the latter, but he wasn’t sure if that was it when Suga spoke again.

“If you’re not going to study right now, what were you planning to do?”

“What are you going to do?” Oikawa countered with a similar question – he didn’t really have any idea what to do, the very reason why he had come to Suga’s room in the first place.

This, whatever they were doing, already was a deviation from their usual nights. Usually, after getting ready for bed, ready to fall asleep, they spent the rest of the evening in their own rooms, alone, doing their own things. Of course there were exceptions, but nothing like this had ever happened before.

“I was going to read,” Suga answered. “Like usual.”

“Okay, let’s read.” Oikawa agreed, reaching towards Suga’s bedside table to pick up the book on top of the small pile there. “Here.” He gave the book to Suga, who had silently snickering turned onto his back, his head still pillowed on Oikawa’s stomach.

“I’ve just finished this.” Suga dropped the book next to him on the bed after a quick look at the cover. “Next.”

Oikawa picked up another from the same pile.

“Read this one too.” Suga dropped the book to join the first one on the bed. “Stop picking them from the pile of books I’ve already read.”

“Where’s your pile of unread books then?”

“On the floor.”

“Your system is weird,” Oikawa said fondly, his hand reaching down.

“It works, thank you very much.”

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s response, reaching down blindly, his fingers grasping at nothing first, but once they touched on something solid that felt like a book, Oikawa picked it up and gave it to Suga, who thanked him softly.

Suga dived straight into the book, opening the cover and skipping the first pages with publishing information and dedication. He was a quick reader, Oikawa noticed, the pages filled with the story turning quickly.

It was quiet in the room, the feel of everything around them soft and gentle, warm and slow. Oikawa felt content in that very moment, just lying on Suga’s bed, doing nothing but twirling his fingers in Suga’s hair, brushing through and sticking it up just to let it fall down and to brush it up again. He was very much at peace, everything about them alone like that feeling _so right._

”I’m going to drag Daichi here tomorrow,” Oikawa said, his soft voice somehow keeping up and not breaking the calm silence.

Suga tilted his head to look at him, placing his finger between two pages as he closed the book. “Why?”

“Because he and Iwa-chan needs to talk through this stupid fight of theirs.”

“You know,” Suga said slowly and turned his head back and continued reading where he had left off. “You sound like you really want Iwaizumi out of this apartment.”

“I do,” Oikawa admitted, his fingers still softly playing with Suga’s hair.

They spent another timeless moment in the silence before Oikawa continued. “It’s not that I hate having him here, but I feel that he needs to go home.”

“I know what you mean.” Suga’s words were quiet, more so than before. “But how are you going to get Daichi to come here? Kidnap him?”

“I’ll convince him. I can be very persuasive when I want to,” Oikawa said confidently, beyond sure of his own abilities and attributes.

“I know.” Suga let the end of his words trail off, as if he wanted to add something after it but decided not to. Instead, he closed the book and sat up. “Are you going to sleep here?”

“Maybe,” Oikawa answered his question elusively, loving how close Suga leaned to him to carefully drop the book he had been reading back to the floor. “Why?”

“Because I’m officially getting tired and I want to sleep.”

“It’s maybe ten p.m.” Oikawa pointed out.

“And I woke up early,” Suga made a counterpoint, putting the books he had already read back to his bedside table, leaning close to Oikawa again to do so. “Are you staying or going?” He asked after Oikawa heard the soft thumb the books made and Suga leaned away.

“I’m not sure. I’m not tired yet.”

Oikawa heard Suga light and soft chuckle. “Your eyes are closed.”

“I was feeling peaceful,” Oikawa defended himself, struggling to open his eyes. Okay, maybe he was tired – he hadn’t slept more than an hour or two the previous night.

“Are you sleeping here?” Suga asked softly again, his fingers gently touching Oikawa’s cheek.

Oikawa thought about it – thought about sleeping in the same bed with Suga; thought about waking up next to him. And –

 

...

 

_Oikawa woke up slowly, his dreams fading away and replaced by mundane everyday thoughts. There was an errand thought of errands he’d have to do, and two lines of a chorus of a song he’d heard a long time ago on a loop._

_He was warm, and feeling so comfortable, that even though he wasn’t exactly sleeping anymore, he wasn’t ready to be awake either. And the song was kind of good, for once. Usually it was one of those annoying radio songs that got old and boring very quickly and with the repetitive words in the chorus because the song’s writer didn’t have anything else to add. So, he wasn’t in a hurry to get rid of the song that morning._

_He cracked his eyes to see what time it was, but it was a struggle to keep them open for long. What he did register was the color of the wall he saw. He wasn’t in his room._

_Oikawa opened his eyes again and recognized the familiar way the room not only looked but_ felt _. He was in Suga’s room._

Oh, right, _Oikawa thought._ I fell asleep in Suga’s room.

_The thought jolted Oikawa up._

_He was in Suga’s room._

_Looking down at himself, he saw that he was in Suga’s bed._

_A quick look to his side, he saw Suga, sleeping soundly._

_Another quick look at the clock told Oikawa that he was probably going to be late for school. It was already past 8 a.m._

_So, why wasn’t Suga woken up yet?_

_Oikawa was filled with panic for a second that Suga had died during the night because of his confession, or from shock of seeing Oikawa in his bed, but it was quickly pushed aside when Oikawa noticed Suga’s frame move with his breathing._

_Oikawa let out a silent sigh of relief and flung his legs of the side of the bed, but stopped there to look back at Suga and how peaceful he looked. So unbelievably beautiful. Even with his small imperfections, he was perfect. And Oikawa couldn’t for the life of him figure out why anyone would ever leave Suga._

_He had never wanted to lie back down as much as he wanted at that very moment, Suga’s sleeping form like a siren’s call to him, singing and enticing him to come closer and spoon him._

_With a jolt that wasn’t really a surprise to him, Oikawa realized how much he wanted to wake up next to Suga every morning from here on out._

 

...

 

“Oikawa?” Suga asked carefully.

Oikawa opened his eyes and saw Suga lying on his stomach, diagonally on the spread of the bed, and leaning on his elbows, his eyes unwavering and fond in the way he was looking at Oikawa. 

“Did you fall asleep?” Suga asked with an understanding smile that was too beautiful, as if it contained all the best things in the world.

“No, I was just thinking of your question.”

“That was some deep thinking,” Suga made and observation and pushed himself to sit up. “Where did your thoughts land you? Staying or going?”

Oikawa looked at Suga for a moment, really studying him, the answer ready on his tongue.

“Staying,” he said and faked the nonchalance by stretching himself to full height, as if he was getting ready to curl into sleep, and took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. The action of it was normal to him, and yet it felt familiar in a completely new way.

“Okay,” Suga agreed to it seemingly easily and nudged on Oikawa’s side. “Move a bit so I can pull the covers from under you.”

Oikawa acted inconvenienced, but rolled his body in according to Suga pulling the covers and then throwing them over Oikawa’s body as he turned to his side and curled his body.

“I’ll hit the lights,” Suga said then and left the bed to do just that, flipping the switch by the door and plunging the room into sudden darkness.

Oikawa’s eyes readjusted to the dark, the room only slightly lit up by the street lamp that shone light through the window. It reminded Oikawa of an almost similar lighting the first time he had come to Suga’s bed, months ago, the first time he had decided to confess to Suga.

“Do you always sleep with the curtains open?” He asked as Suga came back to the bed.

“Sometimes,” Suga answered as he settled down under the covers as well. “Do the street lights bother you?”

Oikawa closed his eyes, feeling more and more tired, the tendrils of sleep pulling him deeper and deeper into the calm sea of sleep. He was just about on the edge of falling asleep when he answered, “No, it’s fine. I was just curious.”

“I can close the curtains if it bothers you,” Suga offered kindly, so impossibly soft in the darkness.

“It really doesn’t bother me,” Oikawa assured. “Go to sleep.”

Suga chuckled, while Oikawa felt how he moved a bit under the covers, settling more comfortably. “You get really bossy sometimes,” Suga made a comment, sounding amused about it.

“I know,” Oikawa confirmed. “Now sleep.”

“And this is coming from someone who said they’re not tired,” Suga kept chucking quietly as he wondered out loud.

Oikawa opened his eyes again to look at him. Suga was curled on his side as well, facing Oikawa, the smallest hint of delighted smile just about detectable in the darkness of the night.

“Goodnight, Suga-chan,” he whispered and closed his eyes. He could already feel the slightest excitement about waking up in mere hours to see Suga sleeping next to him.

“Goodnight, Tooru,” Suga whispered back.

It was quiet then, everything around them tranquil and still. Oikawa was sure he had already fallen asleep when he heard Suga’s voice again.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked softly, as if he was testing the waters, whispering in case Oikawa was asleep so he wouldn’t wake Oikawa up.

“Sure,” Oikawa answered straight away, shifting a little.

“Are you in love with someone?”

Suga’s question froze Oikawa, and he wondered where it had come to Suga’s mind. Had Suga overheard the conversation with Iwaizumi?

“Why are you asking?” Oikawa asked in turn, his words less than a whisper. He was a little afraid of Suga’s answer, and was almost hoping that Suga would think he was sleeping already.

“I just heard Iwaizumi say something about it to you and...” Suga stopped there for several seconds, and Oikawa could imagine the way Suga’s eyes were moving, looking at nothing as he tried to choose the next words, the right words. “And I was just wondering.”

Oikawa thought about his response for several seconds as well. “Oh, well, no,” he said slowly. “I’m not in love with anyone.” He lied to his best abilities, even believing himself when he said it.

He could feel Suga’s eyes on him, not sure how much Suga could see in the darkness, but he didn’t open his own eyes, swallowing hard right before Suga spoke.

“Okay.”

Oikawa recognized the tone he said it in – it was the same tone Suga had used earlier when he said he didn’t believe Oikawa.

But Suga didn’t press on the matter, and Oikawa was grateful for it. For a moment, he could imagine himself confessing to Suga right then and there, in the accepting and forgiving quiet of the night, in the calm surrounding them and the softness that lingered with them in the bed. He could visualize himself admitting that, yes, he was in love, and he was in love with Suga. Right after the vision that brought him a sense of relief, he imagined how Suga would react to it, what Suga might say, and he was hit with a wave of panic that Suga would take him seriously and flat out refuse him.

It was unlikely that Suga would just laugh at him or look at him with pity because he didn’t feel the same way, Oikawa knew this. But he had been holding onto his feelings, keeping them locked away deep inside for so long, convinced that they wouldn’t be reciprocated, that it was hard to let go of that fear.

“You’d tell me if you were in love with someone, right?” Suga’s voice was tinged with the barest hope, the question so sincere it made Oikawa want to reach for him. “You can tell me. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Oikawa assured him.

“Good.” Suga uttered the single word, just a breath that was let out before Oikawa heard him turn under the covers.

Somehow Oikawa was comforted about the uncertainties of the future by Suga’s words. This wasn’t just a step, but several leaps towards the right direction – the direction being the eventual day that he’d admit his feeling for Suga and for Suga to believe him.

He felt content calmness fill him as he finally drifted with the currents of sleep deeper into his dreams. This was good. Everything was well.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The updates will come up once a week from here on :) 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> “Get up. Do you want me to slap your butt again?”  
> “Yes.”  
> “Hm, too bad.”  
> “If I’d said ‘no’ would you have done it?”  
> “Maybe.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was getting long too, so I split it.  
> I don't want to put you through another chapter like the last one. 
> 
> Honestly, this started with the following sentence : Suga wakes up Oikawa  
> And this happened. Somehow I managed to write too much and thus everything else I had planned for his chapter will be in the next one, the too often revised chapter outline now has another "extra" chapter. (There are ten "extra" chapters now - yes, this fic was supposed to be only 20 or so chapters long) *unable to hide a smile*
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos on this story! They're lovely, therefore you're lovely and deserve all the love in the world <3 And I apologize if I've ever left a comment unreplied, it's only because I had no idea what to reply. I still appreciate every single comment (and kudos) I get! THANK YOU!  
> *makes up a little dance of happiness*

 

 

Suga woke up with a start, to the distant but loud sound of something falling to the floor and clattering there.

He sat up, but didn’t open his eyes, couldn’t open them when they were too heavy with sleep. But he listened in case he could hear something, in case there was a good reason for him to either lie back down or fight his eyes open. There was another clattering sound, this time softer, and someone cursed. He deduced that someone was in the kitchen, probably making breakfast, and lay back down, unconcerned about the familiar sounds.

The mornings were still a bit chilly, even though it was already the middle of March, and Suga buried himself deep under the covers, instinctively moving closer to the warmth that was radiating from next to him. He latched on to the warm body, wrapping his arm around and throwing his leg over it, to soak up the heat. On top of everything, of course it had to smell good too.

He tried to fall back asleep, despite the sounds traveling from the kitchen in random intervals and levels of volume. He couldn’t believe how loud someone could be in the kitchen. He didn’t usually wake up to it when someone came early in the morning for food, but then again, usually his room door was closed against the disruptions. He could remember leaving the door open last night – which, in hindsight, seemed a stupid thing to do – when he went to turn off the lights, right before he went back to the bed and lay down next to...

Suga opened his eyes and realized he was hugging Oikawa, sleeping and peaceful Oikawa. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly while he contemplated how to proceed. He could, and probably should, let go of Oikawa. But he found it hard to do – he was too warm to let go of. Suga closed his eyes again, and figured that it would be safe to keep hugging Oikawa like so for a little longer. After all, Oikawa was asleep and wouldn’t ever know how clingy he was being.

With that thought, Suga tried to fall back asleep, enjoying the warmth. For maybe a minute until the sounds that never ceased became truly distracting and he sat up, done with pretending to fall back asleep, despite the inviting warmth Oikawa radiated. Of course he could get up to close the door and then return back into the bed, back to the warmth, but he knew that once he was up, _he was up._ He tried to close the door with his mind first, but his telekinetic abilities still remained undiscovered. With a sigh he reluctantly pushed off the covers and tried to move to the edge of the bed, only to find that he couldn’t.

There was something holding him in place, as if a part of him was tied somewhere and the rope didn’t have any more give. He looked down and saw a hand holding onto his shirt hem. He followed the hand to the arm and up to Oikawa, who was still asleep, breathing deep in and out, and apparently completely oblivious to everything going on around him. Suga wondered how long Oikawa had been holding onto his shirt – he hadn’t noticed the hand holding him when he had woken up, or when he had clung onto Oikawa’s body. At what point, and what exactly had prompted Oikawa to take a hold of the shirt, as if to keep in contact with him. Had he noticed, or maybe sensed that Suga was about to get up and wanted to keep in contact?

The thought of Oikawa wanting to hold onto him was too adorable for Suga’s poor heart to deal with without stuttering. Yesterday had already been _a lot_ with the way Oikawa had wrapped his legs around him, with the way they had held hands, and with Oikawa indirectly telling Suga to lay on him. Suga really didn’t want to get up now, but he was afraid that the bulls in a china shop, that in this case was their kitchen, would wake up Oikawa. The sounds had stopped for now, but there was a real chance that it could start again, even louder.

Making up his mind that it was more important that Oikawa got some much needed sleep, since the man still studied like there was no tomorrow, Suga carefully pulled his shirt free from Oikawa’s grasp. He slid out of the bed just as carefully, and softly padded out of his room and took care to close the door as quietly as possible. He figuratively shook away the rest of the sleep and the urge to crawl next to Oikawa as he tiptoed towards the kitchen. He knew it wouldn’t be Iwaizumi; the man had left for work earlier than it was humanly possible and that had probably been hours ago.

Suga crossed his arms in front of his chest when he recognized Hinata standing on the counter by the sink, putting a dish on the highest shelf. “I was so sure someone had let a dozen pandas into the kitchen to climb onto the counters and drop everything down from the cabinets in search of food.”

 Hinata turned his head to look over his shoulder when he heard Suga and he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“This is a bit of letdown. I was really hoping to see a panda here.” Suga continued conversationally.

“Did I wake you up?” Hinata asked with a grimace.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“What were you doing? Did you drop the same thing on the floor over and over again for the fun of it?” Suga asked curiously as he continued closer to Hinata.

“No, I was trying to reach the bowl on the top shelf,” Hinata pointed to the green plastic bowl, that was now safely on the counter by his feet, and then to the high shelf that was empty of everything that had been there, as was every shelf in the cupboard.

“And everything came down with it?” Suga guessed with a small smile.

“I tried to stop them. And I grabbed everything but one in my arms and against the shelves. But while I was trying to put everything back, they fell too, one by one.”

Suga looked to the floor and saw various items lying there haphazardly, as if a tornado had pulled everything in and then dumbed where it was convenient.

“Nothing broke,” Hinata said hurriedly. “But I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s fine. Let me help you.” Suga went around the kitchen island and grouched down to gather the rest of the kitchenware that he never used. “What do you need the bowl for?”

“Oh, popcorn. It’s the biggest you have, isn’t it?”

Suga kept lifting things up for Hinata to put back into their right places. “It is. Are you planning a movie night?”

“A movie day,” Hinata said with an excited chirp in his voice. “Kenma and I both have day off and we decided to waste it with a movie marathon.”

“Sounds fun,” Suga admitted. “Are you done with school then?”

“No, I still have finals left. But I can study for them tomorrow too.” Hinata grinned again and Suga let out a soft chuckle as he stood up, the floor now free of the clutter. “How’s your exhibit? It’s in two days, isn’t it?” Hinata asked, putting the last of the fallen items back.

“It is, and it’s fine.”

Hinata jumped down from the counter and went to the tall cupboard. “I can’t wait to see it.” He sounded genuinely eager as he said it, and it warmed Suga’s heart to know that his friends were as excited about the exhibit as he was.

“The popcorn is on the second lowest shelf,” Suga told him, guessing right what Hinata was searching for when he let out a happy sound when he found it, at the same time that there was a soft knock on the front door before it opened.

“Hey Kenma,” Suga greeted the newcomer softly, and went to put the coffee maker on.

“I never see you in the mornings anymore, Suga,” Kenma said as a greeting of his own, his voice soft, as he went straight to the fridge. “You always sleep in. What changed?”

Of course Kenma would make a note of it, and then ask about it now that Hinata was there. It was peculiar, but also irredeemably adorable how open Kenma was when Hinata was around, compared to how closed off and silent he was when Hinata wasn’t around.

“Your boyfriend was being loud.” Suga explained simply to Kenma’s question, knowing it would be enough.

Kenma looked at Hinata – who was opening the popcorn packet with great focus and determination – with a fond smile. “Is it okay that we steal some food?” He looked back to Suga briefly, already pulling out some leftovers and other various foods they could snack on during the movie marathon.

“Go for it,” Suga gestured with an open palm. “It’ll just go to waste otherwise.”

“Is the microwave still possessed?” Hinata asked then, the door of it held open by his hand as he looked inside with a wary expression.

“Yes,” Suga leaned his arms on top of the island to observe how Hinata handled the microwave that got more and more temperamental with every passing day. “I swear I can hear it growl sometimes.”

Hinata glanced at Kenma, who had moved to examine the microwave as well. “I’ll take Poltergeist out of the marathon,” he said softly, his hand on Hinata’s shoulder.

Hinata was visibly relieved as he let the microwave door close. “We’ll make the popcorn in our apartment,” he decided and put the packets of unpopped popcorn with the food Kenma had already pulled from the fridge.

“Are you staying for breakfast before you start your marathon?” Suga asked when he noticed the clock on the microwave, and subtracted eight minutes. Always eight minutes. He had turned the clock back to the correct time a week ago, one more time in case this time it would stick. Of course it didn’t, and Oikawa had vehemently blamed aliens – the ‘I don’t believe in humans’ –shirt he had been wearing an icing on that particular cake.

Suga smiled at the memory, how Oikawa had inspected the microwave with a grave expression before he had come to the conclusion that, “I swear the aliens have some way of knowing when you correct the time, and come down here to change it back just to mess with us because they’re bored of just observing what us humans do because, let’s face it, some of us, not naming any names,” he paused to pretend a cough that sounded suspiciously like ‘Kuroo’, “are boring.”

Suga had laughed then, and he wanted to laugh again. He had made a counter point, that it could be ghosts too. Wouldn’t they have been able to see an alien walking around, not just in their apartment, but in the building as well? Oikawa had had an answer at ready – they’re capable of invisibility. He was still sure that the aliens were to blame for Suga’s mysteriously disappeared ties. Suga still, after months, hadn’t found them. And yes, he knew he was the one who had come up with the theory that aliens had stolen his ties first, but it was still silly to him, especially since Oikawa had seemed to take him so seriously.

“I’ve already eaten,” Hinata answered Suga’s question. “Are you hungry Kenma?”

Kenma shrugged with one shoulder, but went to sit down by the island when Hinata started to gather various dishes and ingredients to make a quick breakfast for Kenma. Suga followed it all with a small smile on his lips, his focus moving from busy Hinata to sitting-still Kenma, who was playing something with his handheld console.

“You’re still not cooking?” Suga asked softly from Kenma, his tone suggesting that it was okay to answer if he wanted to, but that it wasn’t expected of him.

Kenma answered anyway, with a small shake of his head.

“I’m not letting Kenma anywhere near a stove or a knife or even a toaster.” Hinata sounded grave and serious, which was understandable. After the first and last time that Kenma had tried to boil water in their kitchen and then ended up in the hospital with severe third degree burns, Hinata had been very protective of Kenma and adamant about keeping him from cooking.

Suga suppressed his smile from widening, leaning his chin to his hand so his fingers covered his mouth. The thought of how Hinata always cooked for Kenma with seemingly absolute pleasure was extremely sweet and it was one of those things that made Kenma and Hinata’s relationship so special.

The way Kenma and Hinata sometimes looked at each other during these moments, when they were unguarded and confident of themselves as individuals but also as a couple, made Suga feel as if he was intruding.

“I’m going to wake up, Oikawa.” He pushed himself off the island he was leaning on and started towards his bedroom without waiting for a response from either Hinata or Kenma. Not that he had expected to get one anyway.

 _Why_ he went to wake up Oikawa? He had no idea, and didn’t come up with a single reason for doing so, but still holding onto his decision _to_ do so.

Oikawa was still asleep when Suga opened the door to his room. He could see Oikawa’s frame moving a little with every breath, and he closed the door as he stepped inside. Oikawa was lying partly on his stomach, partly on his side, his arms trapped under the pillow he was partly hugging. He looked like he belonged there, and Suga didn’t mind the thought and visual at all _._

He didn’t want to appear as a creep again and just stare at sleeping Oikawa, so he moved straight to the bed and climbed on top of him to rest over his back.

“You need to wake up,” Suga said softly. He wanted to be gentle about the waking up, knowing fully well that Oikawa wouldn’t wake up with soft words. Maybe he just wanted to cling onto Oikawa when he had the chance to. Maybe he wanted to prolong the waking up process as long as possible. The ‘maybe’ in this case could be interpreted as ‘definitely’, as unconscious as it was.

Oikawa made a soft mumbling sound and turned to lay on his stomach under Suga’s weight. “No,” Suga could hear him say against the pillow.

Suga pressed his lips against Oikawa’s shoulder to suppress his smile. When he felt like he could speak without his mouth splitting in half from the force of his smile, he hooked his chin only a fraction over Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Wake up, Tooru.”

Oikawa turned his head to be able to speak, pressing his cheek on the pillow. “What time is it?”

“Half past nine.”

“It’s too early to wake up.” Oikawa stated with a grumble immediately.

“I agree,” Suga was quick to admit.

“Then why are you awake?” Oikawa asked in the same sleepy mumble he had held from the first “no”.

“I don’t know.” Suga replied softly. He propped himself on his elbows and arms on Oikawa’s back and shoulders and started to twirl Oikawa’s hair around his fingers. “Don’t you have school today?”

“What day is it?”

Suga chuckled. “Wednesday.”

“No, no school on Wednesdays. Just a hot date with the library.”

“Sounds fun.” Suga chuckled again. Even though Oikawa didn’t apparently need to get up for school, Suga was somewhat adamant of getting him up. Maybe he wanted to hang with Oikawa when the man was actually awake. “Will you get up if I make you coffee?”

“Maybe. Will you bring it to the bed?”

Suga thought about it for a second, quickly making up his mind. “I’ll be right back.” He climbed off of Oikawa’s back and went back to the kitchen.

Kenma and Hinata were still there, Kenma eating while he listened to Hinata’s excited ramble about something Suga didn’t pay much attention to.

He made quick work of grabbing a cup and filling it with fresh coffee, ignoring the two by the island as he poured milk and spooned sugar into the coffee, knowing that he was being ignored as well.

He was gone from his room maybe a minute, max two minutes, but he still found Oikawa back asleep when he returned. He closed the door behind him again and put the cup down on the bedside table with an exasperated but fond sigh.

“Tooru?” He caressed Oikawa’s hair. “Wake up to the lovely smell of coffee.”

“Mm,” Oikawa mumbled a negative answer in his slumber.

Suga’s heart leapt with joy as he saw it, heard it, and _felt_ it. Somewhere deep inside him something jostled.

“I made the coffee just for you. The least you could do is sit up and drink it.”

“Mm, I love you.” Oikawa mumbled again.

The same something jostled inside Suga again. “Okay,” he whispered. “Wake up then.”

“No.” Oikawa turned his head the other way and Suga chuckled.

“I’m experiencing a déjà vu,” Suga said with the laughter still in his voice as he clambered back on the bed, to sit next to Oikawa’s lying body. His eyes were drawn to something small but colorful next to the pillow Oikawa’s head was resting on, and he picked up the hair tie the second he recognized it. It must’ve fallen from Oikawa’s hair during the night – his hair had still been in the ponytail when they went to bed. Suga slipped the hair tie on his wrist to keep it safe before he leaned closer to whisper into Oikawa’s ear.

“Get up.”

Oikawa made a sound somewhere between a mumble, a grumble and a whine. Suga bit his lip not to laugh out loud upon hearing it, and a thought came to his mind.

“Do you want me to slap your butt again?”

Oikawa didn’t miss a beat before he answered, “Yes.” So, he wasn’t actually asleep, just pretending to be.

“Hm, too bad.” Suga faked the letdown in his voice. Although, admittedly he would be more than happy to slap Oikawa’s ass again.

“If I’d said ‘no’ would you have done it?” Oikawa asked, his voice muffled against the pillow.

Suga peeked at Oikawa’s face to see if his eyes were still closed – they were.

“Maybe,” he said as elusively as he could when he rested his cheek against Oikawa’s shoulder blade, moving to casually lay over Oikawa’s back again.

“Then,” Oikawa paused for a moment, as if he was pretending to think about it, “no.”

Suga smothered his snickers against the aforementioned shoulder blade. “Nice try.”

Oikawa whined, actually whined at that and Suga kept smothering his snickers.

“Why are you so mean so early in the morning?”

“Because you’re not waking up. Besides, your coffee is getting cold.”

“Then I definitely can’t get up. I can’t drink cold coffee.”

“You’re impossible,” Suga said with a smile.

“But you still like me.”

“What gave you that idea?” Suga was both confused and a little scared – how could Oikawa know? He kept mentioning it all the time, and every time Suga was more and more confused of _how_ Oikawa had figured it out, and terrified that Oikawa _had_ figured it out.

“You’re quite literally lying on top of me.”

Well, that was a clear tell if there ever was one. Especially if one were to add it to the steadily growing list of things Suga did that showed that he liked Oikawa.

Suga just wasn’t ready to admit it to Oikawa yet. “It’s your fault for being so comfortable.”

“Mm,” Oikawa mumbled, shuffling a little under Suga. “You like me.”

“Not that much when you’re not getting up.” Suga kept lying and making up excuses for the lies. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether it mattered if Oikawa knew, or thought he knew. Did it matter if Oikawa was aware that Suga liked him? It didn’t have to lead into anything.

Oikawa raised his head off the pillow to look at Suga over his shoulder. “Are you ever going to get off of me?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“No,” Suga answered casually. It was a complete 180 of what he had tried to do earlier, when he tried to convince Oikawa that, _No, I don’t like you. You’re reading too much into this._ Because, in the grand scheme of things, it really didn’t matter if Oikawa knew already. He’d find out in two days anyway. “Does that bother you?”

“Not as long as I can lie here.” Oikawa dropped his head onto the pillow. “But it also means that I can’t get up until you do.”

Suga faked the inconvenienced groan under his breath and he felt Oikawa’s chuckle against his chest. “Impossible,” Suga muttered against Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Why do you even want me to get up so bad?” Oikawa inquired.

Suga had to think about his answer – he still had no idea _why_ he wanted Oikawa to get up. Either of them didn’t actually have anything they’d have to do right that moment. Or anything important they’d have to attend or finish.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly to Oikawa’s question and sat up. “Maybe I just want to hang with you. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad.” Oikawa’s voice had a hint of gentleness and Suga wanted to melt within the honey-like quality of it. “But can I pretend to sleep while you hang with, or on, me?”

“Sure, if you want.” Suga had nothing against it. Not when he was indirectly allowed to look at Oikawa. Although, knowing Oikawa, he probably could feel Suga’s eyes trailing along his features, appreciating the obvious handsomeness.

Suga had already documented Oikawa from every possible angle, or at least almost every possible angle, with his camera. The photos were an embarrassingly clear tell of his feelings. He’d never show them to Oikawa – at least not yet _._ Unless one didn’t count the photo Suga had chosen that one day when he had tried to hide his laptop from Oikawa under the disguise that he had been watching porn, and then later bashfully sent to Takeda to get blown up and printed. Takeda’s response to that one email had been nothing but a smiling emoji.

With the past photos in mind, Suga didn’t even think about it when he got up to fetch his camera and then sat over Oikawa’s upper thighs to take a photo of the unfairly sharp and gorgeous side profile.

“I know that sound,” Oikawa mumbled against the pillow. “Did you take a picture of me?”

“Maybe.” Suga looked at the freshly captured bedhead of Oikawa. “Your face is puffy.”

Oikawa groaned and lifted his head a little off the pillow, propping himself on his elbows. “Let me see.”

Suga leaned forward and brought the camera next to the pillow so Oikawa could see.

“No it isn’t.” Oikawa disagreed. “I look good.”

“That’s subjective,” Suga pointed out and brought the camera back to inspect the photo closer.

Oikawa turned under Suga in a way that forced Suga to move to sit down next to him. “Are you getting up?”

“I might be ready to wake up now.” Oikawa nodded his head, but lay down on his back. He was looking at Suga with hooded eyes, most probably from sleep, but who knows for sure.

“Your coffee is probably cold already.”

“Can you make me another cup?” Oikawa asked with a pout and puppy eyes.

Suga rolled his eyes at the sight. “Promise to get up?”

Oikawa nodded.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Suga put his camera down on the bed and got up, climbing over Oikawa’s body and making sure to be as bothersome about it as possible. Some evil part of him appreciated the pained groans Oikawa let out as his hands and feet kicked and pressed on different parts of Oikawa’s body. He picked up the cup filled with now-cold coffee from the bedside table and left the room as quietly as he had come in, with a pleased smile that he hid from Oikawa.

In the kitchen, Yaku was sitting by the island with a bowl of cereal. Apparently it was another one of those mornings, when their kitchen turned into a train station and everyone came and went as they pleased when they were hungry and had nothing, or anything they felt like eating, in their own kitchens.

“Morning, Yaku,” Suga said with a warm smile all the same. He liked it when there was life in the apartment, and the long days with minimal distraction from the neighbors had started to bother him, just a little bit.

Yaku looked up from his phone, his impassive eyes focusing on Suga. “You look happy,” he said bluntly.

“I do?” Suga was surprised. He didn’t feel particularly happier than usual. Excited? Sure. Nervous? A little. All because of his upcoming and slowly approaching gallery. But happy enough for someone to point it out as the first thing they said when they saw him? Maybe.

“Yes.” Yaku answered simply to Suga’s question.

“Oh, okay.” Suga poured the coffee from the cup into the sink, and took note of the dishes Kenma and Hinata had left behind. “I’m not sure what to say to that,” he admitted as he went to the coffee pot.

“Nothing?” Yaku asked and simultaneously pointed out the obvious, which Suga accepted with a smile.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Suga spoke conversationally as he poured warm coffee into the cup.

“We just saw each other at Tanaka’s birthday party.” Yaku said patiently, but with a silent chuckle.

“But we didn’t get a chance to talk.” Suga turned around to look at Yaku with a sincere smile. “How are you?”

Yaku chuckled a little more, shaking his head and looking down to his bowl, the spoon held loosely between his fingers. “I’ve been good. Really good.”

Suga kept smiling as he listened to Yaku talk, happy that his friend was happy. “You look happy too.”

Yaku grinned. “That’s because I am. Life is good.  Work is the same as always.” Yaku stopped to take a deep breath. “I’m content,” he finished with a small smile that Suga was glad to see.

“Suga? Are you home?” A voice called out when the front door was opened, and his short alone time with Yaku was interrupted.

Suga recognized the voice immediately. “No,” he answered with an impish smile and went to sweeten the coffee so Oikawa could drink it without making a disgusted face at the bitterness.

“Liar,” Kuroo stated when he rounded the corner to the kitchen. “You’re picking some really bad habits from Oikawa.”

“Not true.” Suga looked at Kuroo and continued when he could see him, to make sure that Kuroo saw his mischievous smile. “They’re not bad habits.”

“Don’t tell me you’re becoming as insufferable as he is.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do, but not the way that you do.”

“What?”

“You’re already so whipped for him too.”

Suga frowned deeper with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Who’s the cup of coffee for?” Kuroo asked with a smirk, gesturing towards it with a raise of his eyebrows and a nod of his head.

“I’m not above pouring the coffee down your back,” Suga said with an impish smile and a half-hearted threat in his voice. He knew what Kuroo was alluding to, and wanted to get his point across that he didn’t appreciate it when others felt like they had a say in his personal affairs. But he wouldn’t pour the coffee on Kuroo, or on anyone for that matter. He really didn’t want to actually hurt anyone that bad.

“I was just teasing.” Kuroo chuckled.

Suga was glad that the threat hadn’t been taken seriously, but that his point was received loud and clear, when Kuroo changed the subject. “Anyway, my microwave doesn’t work. Can I use yours?”

“Of course. That’s what it’s there for.”   

“Be careful with the microwave,” Yaku warned as Kuroo strode closer to the appliance. “I’m pretty sure it tried to eat my hand once.”

“Have you considered buying a new microwave, Suga?” Kuroo looked at the microwave as if it was baring its teeth at him, leaning back a little with apprehension.

“Shh,” Suga shushed playfully with a finger in front of his lips. “Not so loud. It’ll hear you.”

Yaku snickered.

“You’re really something, Suga,” Kuroo said with a shake of his head.

Suga didn’t have a rebuttal to Kuroo’s remark. He wasn’t even sure what Kuroo was trying to say with it, so he decided to bypass it altogether. “Okay, you have food to heat, Yaku has cereal to finish and I have a cup of coffee to deliver.” He pointed towards everyone and everything according to his speech. He didn’t want to dwell too much on what Kuroo had said. “I’ll see you guys later.” He made a little wave with his hand and started towards his room.

“If I lose a limb because of your microwave, I’m coming to you with my hospital bill.” Kuroo shouted after him.

“And I’ll give you a saw so you can match your limbs after you lose one,” Suga said without a look back before he slipped into the hallway.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa turned to his side and sat up. He saw a glimpse of Suga as he left the room before he rubbed the last of the sleep off his eyes. There was a wide smile on his face, the curve of his lips more happy than amused, because Suga was being clingy with him. It only happened when Suga was drunk, but it was early morning so Suga probably wasn’t drunk. And Oikawa couldn’t detect any whiff of alcohol in Suga’s breath, or any of the sweetness that laced Suga’s voice when he was in a happily inebriated state.

Oikawa wondered what had brought the sudden change and desire for Suga to seek contact so freely. Was it the night they had spent together in the bed? Just sleeping? Was it last evening and something, or everything, that had happened in the living room before and during the volleyball game? Was it something he had said or done? Had there been a hint of this already in Suga’s behavior last night?

While Oikawa racked his still sleep-muddled brain, his eyes trained to the black object on the bed and it drew his focus.

Suga’s camera.

Oikawa glanced towards the open door and then back to the camera. It would be fine for him to take another look at the photo Suga had just taken of him. Right?

Oikawa rationalized it to himself, and picked up the camera. If he was being completely honest, yes, his face was a little puffy, but everyone’s was when they had just woken up. Granted, he had been waking up and not waking up for a better part of an hour, but the excuse still felt valid to him.

Oikawa shot another quick look to the door – he could hear someone talking softly somewhere far away, maybe in the kitchen. He knew that Suga wasn’t exactly secretive about his photos, but Suga didn’t exactly parade around showing them to others either, so Oikawa was careful as he moved onto another photo.

It was... another one of him. Taken a couple of days ago – Oikawa recognized the clothes he was wearing in the photo. But he couldn’t remember Suga taking it. What he could remember was the slow day, the day between the two birthdays, and how they had spent it hanging together. He remembered reading with Suga in the living room, and ordering food, and lying on top of Suga just because. He could still feel the way Suga had wrapped his arms around him, ever so carefully, as if he was worried of breaking or hurting, not Oikawa, but himself.

The photos on the camera were in color, so Oikawa could tell it had been taken sometime during the evening, the lighting suggesting that the lights inside the apartment had been on. It had been taken from a low angle, and he was looking somewhere far off and away. Oikawa wondered what Suga had seen at that moment to prompt him to want to capture it.

The low murmurs in the kitchen turned a little louder, and Oikawa could recognize actual words here and there, Suga’s voice mixed in with the others. Oikawa assumed it was safe to look further into the photos, and moved forward. He passed by a couple of photos of the same thing – of a shadow created by what, Oikawa couldn’t tell, but it was intricate and the mystery of it made it interesting – until he came to another photo of himself.

How many photos had Suga taken of him without him noticing it? And how hadn’t he noticed it? In this particular case, or photo, it was easy to assume that he had been too focused on his dissertation to notice the camera in Suga’s hand. It was another flattering photo, and Oikawa could see the care and love Suga had for every photo he took, and how that same feeling somehow was probably an extension of how Suga felt about the subject in the photos. He was aware that Suga liked him, but seeing the photos was a proof of another caliber. He probably wasn’t meant to see all the photos Suga had taken, but Oikawa didn’t feel bad about sneaking a look – after all, they were photos of him, and he had a gut feeling that Suga had thought about showing them all to him some day.

Call it wishful thinking if you want, but Oikawa couldn’t help the hope blooming in his chest. Suga saw something in him that was worth capturing and keeping forever, something beyond just his good looks. Oikawa smiled at the photo of himself, sitting in the kitchen and leaning his chin to his hand, his elbow resting on top of the island as he was deep in thought. He had a fleeting thought of how long his hair had gotten, just about reaching to his jaw. It was no wonder Suga made a note of it now and then and all the time.

Oikawa would’ve kept looking through the photos if he hadn’t heard the footfalls of someone walking in the hallway. He quickly put the camera down where he had picked it up from, right before Suga came back.

“You’re almost up,” Suga said with a surprised smile.

Oikawa leaned his back to the headboard and drew his legs close to his body, his knees up, as he watched Suga close the door before he came to the bed with the cup of coffee held in his hand as if it was easily breakable. “I told you I’d get up.”

“Miracles never cease to happen,” Suga made a joke as he handed the cup to Oikawa.

“How is this a miracle?” Oikawa took the offered cup and sipped the perfection that was coffee prepared by Suga.

Suga sat down on the bed by Oikawa’s legs and leaned against his shins, his arms loosely crossed and propped on Oikawa’s knees. “I came to wake you up an hour ago. You can’t fault me for thinking you’d never get up.”

“What can I say? Your bed is comfortable.”

“And you’re lazy.”

Oikawa decided not to say anything to that. He could refute, but didn’t feel like it. “Who were you talking to in the kitchen?” He sipped the coffee, looking at Suga over the rim of the cup.

“Yaku and Kuroo. But Kenma and Hinata were here earlier too.”

“I guess everyone’s back from their hiatus then?” Oikawa smirked and kept drinking the coffee. It had been a considerable while since so many of their neighbors had come to their apartment for food and for whatever else during the same morning.

“It would seem so. They can pretend that they don’t like us and stay away, but they can’t deny that ultimately they miss us and always come back.”

“That they do,” Oikawa agreed softly. He liked how Suga had used ‘us’ and reached out to push Suga’s hair to the side from his forehead. Suga’s eyes closed at the brief contact, and the same hope kept growing inside Oikawa.

Before last night, before Suga asked if he was staying to sleep in his bed, Oikawa had had his insecurities about the uncertainty of what could become of them if he confessed his feelings, if he admitted his infatuation to Suga. But now, with every little thing he noticed, the uncertainty shriveled away, like a dead and dried leaf crumbled into small pieces and then was blown away by the wind.

Maybe Suga would surprise him and confess first. Who knew what might happen? Maybe he could –

Oikawa’s mind formed the thought, but he didn’t get the chance to think it through before Suga changed the subject.

“How are you planning to get Daichi and Iwaizumi to talk to each other?”

“I’m not sure. Is Daichi working today?”

“Probably. I can ask him.” Suga reached for his phone that had been charging on the bedside table since last night.

“We shouldn’t be here when they talk.”

“I know,” Suga said distractedly, more focused on his text as he was. “Suggestions?” He glanced up under his brows at Oikawa.

“We could go out.” Oikawa suggested as lightly as possible with a nonchalant shrug. “Movies or something.”

Suga pursed his lips a little, as if he was deep in thought, before his lips curved into a smile that had the audacity to fill Oikawa’s heart with adoration. “Movie sounds good,” he said right before his phone alarmed them of an incoming text.

“Daichi must’ve been on a break to answer so fast.” Suga said, his voice speculative, as he typed back a response to whatever Daichi had texted him.

“What did he say?” Oikawa leaned forward a bit to see the text but Suga blackened the screen before he managed to get a decent glance in.  

“He’s off at six.”

“Iwa-chan is probably off at the same time.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Suga set his phone back on the bedside table. “How are you going to convince Daichi to come with you here?”

“I’ll kidnap him if I have to.” Oikawa said seriously.

“You’re not going to drag Iwaizumi to their apartment?”

“Do you feel like taking a wild guess of how that’s going to go?”

Suga chuckled. “I bet you’d come back with a couple of bite marks.”

“And not the sexy kind.”

Suga chuckled, and he ended it with a sigh. “I need a shower.”

“You smell all rosy and sweet to me,” Oikawa said with a satisfied smirk behind the cup, before he drank the last of the coffee.

“I still feel like having a shower.” Suga pushed himself away from Oikawa’s legs, and Oikawa missed the weight and warmth that had been pressed against him. “Try and get up while I’m gone so I can come and change my clothes without the pay-per-view audience.”

Oikawa straightened a bit and crossed his legs as he put the cup on the bedside table.  “You’d make me pay to watch you put clothes _on?”_ Oikawa raised his eyebrow to match his incredulous tone.

“I’d make you pay even more to watch me take them off.”

Oikawa looked Suga up and down. “Hm, how much?”

Suga gaped at Oikawa. “You would pay to see me change my clothes?”

“Depends how much I’d have to pay for it.” Oikawa shamelessly flirted.

“You can’t afford it,” Suga said with a denying shake of his head.

“So I can’t see you change your clothes then?” Oikawa asked with a small pout, as if he was actually disappointed – which seemed to baffle Suga.

“You’re not serious.” Suga both asked and stated at the same time.

“Come on,” Oikawa said with a lighthearted laughter. “I’ve seen you without your shirt before.”

Suga looked to the left and up, as if he was trying to remember such an incident. “When?”

“And I’ve seen you with your shirt _almost_ off.”

“Again: when?”

“Why is the nakedness such a big deal? We’re both men here. It doesn’t mean anything for me to see you shirtless, or for you to see me. Does it?” Oikawa raised a challenging eyebrow. “I’ll take my shirt off if you take yours,” he added in an almost sinful whisper, his coy smirk amplifying the meaning of his words. His fingers were already playing with the hem of Suga’s shirt.

Suga’s gaze could be described with words like intense and intrigued, but neither of them quite hit the mark. He studied Oikawa’s face, his eyes boring into Oikawa’s in search of something, probably anything. Oikawa wondered if Suga found it when he suddenly stood up.

Had he managed to make Suga flustered? Oikawa wondered, a teasing smile coming to life on his lips.

“I’m going to the shower now,” Suga said decisively, brushing the wrinkles off his pants.

“Can I join you?” Oikawa couldn’t stop teasing Suga, not when it brought him so much joy and when it seemed to make Suga at least a little flustered. Since Suga’s break up with Terushima, a very little could make Suga blush and it had slowly become a mission of sorts for Oikawa to tease Suga enough to see a real blush on his cheeks whenever he had the chance. It was a rare and absolutely adorable treat whenever he was successful.

Suga didn’t respond to Oikawa’s tease, though – which was a bit of letdown – but walked with sure steps out of the room.

“Just make sure you’ve gotten up by the time I come back.” Suga glanced over his shoulder when he opened the door, the wicked smile on his lips matching his almost flirty voice.

Oikawa fell sideways on the bed and pressed his hands over his eyes, unable to shake the wide smirk off his face. It wasn’t a blush, but he was still satisfied – apparently Suga could give back just as good as he was getting.

Maybe it had been the heavy flirting he and Suga had engaged in in front of Iwaizumi last night that had caused Suga to be much more revealing of his feelings, since the same tone and intensity seemed to have stretched to this morning too.

And Oikawa didn’t mind it. Not at all.

 

 

...

 

 

The shower gave Suga an excellent opportunity for some thinking – he was worried that he had been too transparent earlier when he had tried to wake up Oikawa. Had Oikawa figured out why Suga had been so touchy with him? And if so, was that the reason Oikawa had been so suggestive and flirty with him?

A small voice inside his head kept insisting that it didn’t matter if Oikawa knew. Although, Suga had wanted to keep his secret for two more days. After that, it most definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, didn’t matter if Oikawa knew. Suga would actually prefer for Oikawa to know then, for Oikawa to figure it out without having to explicitly tell him that he had fond feelings for the man.

He almost wished for Oikawa to still be in his room when he got out of the shower. He still couldn’t remember when Oikawa could’ve seen him shirtless, but it would seem that he had liked what he had seen.

Those thoughts died the minute he stepped out of the shower and heard more voices in the kitchen and the living room – he was intrigued. It had been too long since the apartment had been so full of life, when it wasn’t someone’s birthday. He quickly put on the first clean clothes he found in his closet, sans Oikawa’s presence, the empty coffee cup left alone on his bedside table, and followed the voices to find his friends occupying the kitchen.

He leaned his shoulder on the hallway wall by the entrance and watched with fondness. He had no idea when most of them had come, but it was an exceptionally pleasing surprise to see the apartment full of people.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bokuto called out loudly when he noticed Suga. “Your microwave is murderous and we’re planning on a mafia-like disappearance for it.”

Suga smiled – he hadn’t heard the greeting in a long time – and walked closer to the kitchen. “It can still hear you. I wouldn’t talk about your plans to make it disappear so close to it. It has surprising connections. You might end up in the river too.”

“Logically, I know you’re joking. But I hate it that I can never tell from just your tone.” Kuroo sounded a bit distressed, his expression the perfect example of distrust.

“Good.” Suga’s smile turned into an expression of contentment and he leaned his back against the counter, his hands behind his back.

“You look happy, Suga.” Akaashi spoke up – he was leaning against Bokuto’s back, both of them looking comfortable, Akaashi’s arms around Bokuto’s waist.  

An unconscious smile spread on Suga’s face when he saw them. “How come people keep pointing that out to me?” he asked from no one in particular. “Haven’t I seemed happy before?”

“Not like this,” Bokuto answered.

“Maybe I’m just happy to see you all again. It’s been a while since you were here like this, without any particular reason.”

“What do you mean without a particular reason?” Bokuto asked. “I’ll have you know I’m here for the food. If only Kuroo would heat his food first so I could eat too.”

“I’m not touching that monster.” Kuroo pointed to the microwave. “It’s scary and probably a host to some devil spirit.”

Suga chuckled. “It’s not that bad.”

“No,” Tanaka agreed with him, in a rush to get to another subject. “But back to what we were discussing before Suga came.” He leaned around Yamamoto by the kitchen island as he looked around the kitchen at everyone. “We should get an _impartial_ judge.”                                      

“That makes sense,” Yamamoto agreed with Tanaka, nodding along. “That way no one can deny it when I win.”

“What?” Kuroo asked. “My abs are better than yours.”

“Excuse you? Mine are definitely more toned than any of yours.” Bokuto chimed in.

“Excuse three!” Tanaka shouted as he stood up and took his shirt off with practiced ease. “Have you even seen mine?” He gestured towards his bare torso.

“What are you talking about?” Suga looked at everyone in turn with a confused frown.

Nishinoya sounded absurdly proud when he spoke. “We’re discussing of a competition to see who has the best abs.”

“Okay, I’m done.” Akaashi withdrew from Bokuto and went to the living room. Bokuto reached after him with a quiet wail of “Akaaaaashi!”, that went ignored by the afore mentioned man.

“Oh, no,” Suga dropped his chin to his chest in given up exasperation. “No, you’re not having a competition about this,” he said sternly as he lifted his head up. “This won’t end well.”

“Akaashi can be the judge.” Kuroo decided. “Suga, you’re in too.” He pointed at Suga when he went to pull and push everyone around so they slowly moved to stand in a row.

“That’s not happening.” Suga disagreed, shaking his head, looking apprehensively at Kuroo who was coming closer to him with determination.

“Come on.” Kuroo lazily tried to coax him in to agreeing, his hands already outstretched in position to push Suga forward by his shoulders.

“No.” Suga was adamant. There was no way he was going to enter the ridiculous contest that would definitely end with at least one person feeling letdown and with someone crying due to hurt feelings.

Kuroo stopped a step away from with a speculative frown. “Fine, you can be the judge then.” He waved his hand nonchalantly in the air and went to join the others in the row that was everything but straight, everyone standing however they pleased.

“Do I have to?” He knew he could just not do it, but it was kind of fun to be a part of whatever this was, even if someone would leave the apartment in a huff because they didn’t win.

“Yes,” Akaashi answered his question from the couch. “I’m not doing it alone.”

“Are you really going to have a contest of who has the best abs? How did that happen?” Suga looked around the living room and kitchen for answers he didn’t find.

“How do all these things come to happen?” Yaku asked, his voice rhetoric. “They’re stupid and bored. I swear, ever since Kuroo got fired in December, he’s been stupider than usual.”

Kuroo let out an indignant gasp and put his hand over his heart, as if he had been shot through his heart. “I take great offence at your words, Yaku.”

“Good, get a job.” Yaku said off-handedly. “Then you won’t have as much free time for stupid ideas like this.”

“Are you in the competition Yaku?” Suga didn’t expect him to be, but wanted to make sure anyway.

After all, Yaku was usually the first to voice how stupid or reckless someone was being. The first to scold them and offer some much needed, but probably not wanted, scolding.

“Just so I could lose? I don’t think so.”

“Don’t be so sure of losing. We have two judges.” Yamamoto spoke up.

"Yeah, you could definitely win," Nishinoya agreed with him.

“I think I’ll just sit by and silently judge, not the competition but how stupid it is.” Yaku was steadfast.

“Ah, your favorite hobby.” Kuroo smirked, his hands on his hips. “Just enjoy the eye-candy then.”

Yaku sniffed at Kuroo’s suggestion with an upturned nose. “No thank you.” His preciosity caused scattered chuckles that died quickly when Oikawa emerged, dressed and ready to face the day and its challenges, more or less. 

“Um,” Oikawa started uncharacteristically uncertainly as he observed the weird situation in the living room and the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“Oikawa, we’re having a contest of who has the best abs.” Kuroo was kind enough to inform him. “Are you in?”

Oikawa kept looking around him, clearly trying to assess the atmosphere and maybe his competition if he was to take part in it, and he walked slowly further in to the large living space. He halted by Kumamon and just looked at Kuroo for a moment before a slow smirk spread on his lips. “There’s no need for a contest because I’ve already won.”

“I’d like to see you prove it.” Kuroo challenged Oikawa.

“I’m sure you would.” Oikawa kept smirking at Kuroo.

Suga looked away from Oikawa when he saw the smirk – as cocky as it was, it did _things_ to him, the confidence behind it enticing – and turned his focus to his neighbors. A fond smile spread on his lips as he watched them bicker about the quality of their abs. Yamamoto and Tanaka were already shirtless, which was expected, while Yaku tried to chide them to put their shirts back on. Akaashi looked bored as he sat alone on the couch, but his gaze was fixed on Bokuto, who was laughing at Kuroo who was struggling with the buttons on his shirt.

With everything and everyone else stealing his attention, he didn’t notice how close Oikawa was until he felt a warm hand settle on his hip.

“You’re wearing my shirt again,” Oikawa leaned closed to Suga to whisper.

Suga turned his head and leaned back just a fraction so their faces weren’t quite so temptingly close. It was unbelievable to Suga how Oikawa could touch him so casually and with so much ease, when Suga always ended up second-guessing himself when he did it to Oikawa.

“You left it in my closet,” Suga explained the shirt. It wasn’t the whole truth, but still true enough since he had picked the shirt from his closet.

Oikawa leaned back with a chuckle. He dropped his hand and took a step back from Suga, but his handprint still remained on Suga’s skin, the warmth of it spreading under his skin in electric small shivers, as if it was traveling with his blood to light his every cell.

“I’m pretty sure you stole it from the clothes line, like you always do when I put my clothes to dry after I’ve washed them.”

“Are you sure it didn’t grow legs or arms and didn’t walk or drag itself into my closet?” Suga asked with a cocked eyebrow as if he was being serious. “Or wings so it could fly?” It was a ridiculous thought, but it made Oikawa laugh a little, his shoulders shaking a bit with it, so Suga was pleased with himself.

“I don’t mind that you wear my clothes, you don’t have to lie.” Oikawa’s voice was gentle, his expression a perfect match for it.

“Why do you think I’m lying?” Suga asked to stall. He knew Oikawa didn’t mind that he borrowed his clothes. “I’m just presenting a possibility here.”

“A possibility?”

The kitchen had grown considerably quieter while he and Oikawa had talked, but it could only appear so to Suga, as immersed as he was to just him and Oikawa and their preposterous conversation about walking clothes.

“If you think it’s possible for aliens to come in here and change the time on our microwave, then it should be just as plausible that clothes can grow limbs.”

Oikawa laughed even harder, his head thrown back a little. “Okay,” he said, still laughing, until he sobered. “I’m with you. Let the clothes walk, or crawl, or fly into your closet. I really don’t mind. But I have to go to the library now. ”  

“To your hot date?”

Oikawa laughed again, the sound causing new butterflies to emerge from their cocoons in Suga’s stomach. “Yes, exactly. And then I’ll do the kidnapping.”

“Okay.”

Oikawa leaned closer again to whisper,” You need to get everyone out of here.”  

“I know, I have a plan,” Suga said and conjured his evil but endearing smile from somewhere deep within himself, from his seemingly endless reserve of strength and tolerance against Oikawa’s charms - the reserve that was now quickly depleting.

“Are you sure you don’t want to participate, Oikawa?” Kuroo tried one more time. “Suga is the judge.” He made, what was probably in his opinion, a convincing point. Suga silently disagreed, though.

But he wasn’t sure what to think about it all as Oikawa looked from Kuroo to him and then back to Kuroo with a triumphant smile. “Then I’ve already won.”

“You sound awfully confident about that.” Suga tilted his head a little to the side as he observed Oikawa and the curve of his lips. Did he know? Was he aware that Suga might have a slight favoritism towards him due to the infatuated feelings?

Oikawa looked back to Suga with a raised eyebrow, his smile gone in favor of silent confidence as he dropped his bag on the floor. “Do you want me to prove it to you? Show you my abs?” Oikawa’s voice was quite flirtatious, and Suga wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Was he supposed to say something back to Oikawa’s questions or were they just rhetoric?

“Want me to lift my shirt so you can see my abs?” Oikawa’s hand played with the hem of his shirt. “Or take it off completely, pulling it over my head slowly?” Oikawa’s voice got more and more suggestive as he narrated what he was doing, his hands going to the neck of his shirt and pulling it off completely.

Suga bit his lip, his stomach dropping ten stories under the ground in one second. He gripped the counter behind him with all his strength, honestly worried of denting it with his fingers. He was looking at Oikawa intently, maybe too intently to appear innocent. But he couldn’t help himself, as his eyes wandered on their own accord on Oikawa’s bare torso unabashedly, without any shame. When he was able to, to his own dismay, look up, he noticed how Oikawa’s gaze was on his bitten bottom lip.

“For fuck’s sake!” Yaku threw his hands in the air with frustration.

It broke the tension between Suga and Oikawa, and Suga turned his head away. He hadn’t noticed how quiet it had gotten in the apartment, everyone’s probably zoomed in on them and the teasing way Oikawa had taken his shirt off.

Suga could hear the soft chuckling from Oikawa and glanced at him to see him put his shirt back on and pick up his bag. “I’ll see you guys later!” he called over his shoulder before his gaze landed on Suga and the confident smirk returned to his lips.

“Okay, so obviously Oikawa isn’t in the running for the best abs,” Kuroo announced. “Suga, it’s time to choose the winner.”

“I already told you I’m not doing it.” Suga tore his gaze away from Oikawa when he slipped out of the apartment.

“I’ll force you to wear the Totoro-hat if you don’t do it.” Kuroo threatened.

That would be a neat trick, Suga thought, since the hat was still buried safely in his closet. He fixed Kuroo with a mischievous look and leaned forward on the island two steps away from him, his chin cradled in his hands as innocently as possible, like a sweet baby angel in a poster.

“How?”

 

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone seriously needs to stop my brain from coming up with so much to write. I can't keep up anymore. (not sorry, still going to keep writing, already have the next three fics planned and started) 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> There's fighting  
> And Oikawa gets an offer


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration is fickle, striking me at the most inopportune times... 
> 
> I apologize for any possible typos and phrases that don't make sense (I remember writing this chapter in a very sleep deprived state because for some reason I was feeling inspired).  
> And I've been writing the next chapter non-stop for hours, when I realized that I haven't even updated with this one yet. Sorry for the wait! 
> 
> And all the love to you for the patience <3

 

 

 

Oikawa rang the doorbell of Daichi and Iwaizumi’s apartment.

It had been a while since the last time he had been standing behind their door, and as he looked around whilst he waited, he was quite sure that the hallway had been painted since – all the scuff marks and old dents and transfers of dirt were gone.

He could hear distant thumps of music come from one of the adjacent apartments, but he didn’t have enough time to investigate the source before Daichi opened the door.

He probably wasn’t expecting Oikawa – the way his expression fell was a clear indication of that. “Hajime isn’t here,” he said with a disappointed sigh.

“I know,” Oikawa replied and pushed his way inside. He didn’t want to waste time with niceties, not when he was on a very important mission. “I’m here for you.”

Daichi’s eyebrows rose with surprise, but he quickly covered it by turning around and left Oikawa to come in on his own and close the door, walking further into the apartment, picking up random items from the floor and the shelf and the table on his way.

“No offence, Oikawa, but I’m not really into you.” Daichi shot the quip carelessly as he picked up a sweatshirt from the back of the couch and flung it onto a pile of clothes that was sitting by the bedroom entrance. If it was Daichi’s try at a joke, it was a terrible one. At least in Oikawa’s opinion.

“Full offence, _Sawamura,_ but I’m definitely not into you either.”  

Daichi looked over his shoulder and shot a stern glance at him. It was probably meant to be withering and disapproving, but in all honesty, it had next to zero effect on Oikawa, who was weirdly gratified. He swallowed down the smug grin, knowing how it would irk Daichi to see it, and he kind of wanted to stay on Daichi’s good side to get what he wanted.

“Then why are you here?” Daichi asked when he disappeared into the kitchen, his voice muffled by the walls when he went to deposit the empty coffee cups he had gathered during their short banter that shouldn’t be called that.

“I came to bring you to my apartment.”

Daichi’s head popped into view from behind the separating wall between the small hall – or if you were fancy, a foyer – and the kitchen. “Why?” He looked suspicious, and Oikawa wondered whether to be honest or not.

He had come to the decision of being upfront and honest to the tee with Daichi about his intentions of bringing the man to their apartment. But now, seeing how short Daichi was being with him, made Oikawa reconsider. He knew that telling Daichi of Iwaizumi’s whereabouts was risky – it could make or break their relationship. But, there was the chance that Daichi already knew that Iwaizumi had stayed with him and Suga.

Oikawa stuffed his hands into his open jackets’ pockets and waited before he spoke. He waited for Daichi to come fully out of the kitchen.

“Why do you want me to come with you?” Daichi took one step forward, half of him still hidden. “Does this have something to do with Suga asking of my schedule for today?”

“Yes.”

Daichi let out a groan and stepped fully into sight. “You’re being really frustrating today. Can’t you just answer my previous question? Why do you need me to come with you to your apartment? Did something happen to Suga. Because if that’s the case, and you’re wasting time by being purposefully annoying, I’m going to throw you out that window.” Daichi pointed to the window to the right of Oikawa.

Okay, so, Daichi was in more than just a bit of a bad mood, if he was being so short tempered with Oikawa and already threatening to seriously maim him. It was quite possible that the fall wouldn’t kill Oikawa, but at least it would paralyze him and it was most definitely something that he would like to avoid. He already had a busted knee, and quite frankly, in his opinion, it was already too much.

So, since it was important to Oikawa that Daichi and Iwaizumi talked, or fought, through their fight, he decided to be nice and answered Daichi’s former question. And also maybe to avoid the long fall to the hard and unforgiving ground. Plus, it wouldn’t help anyone for him to irk or annoy Daichi more than was reasonable. It really wouldn’t help if Daichi got mad at him too, on top of inevitably getting mad at Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan is there and I need you to talk with him.” He explained matter-of-factly. He figured it was best to just get it out there.

Daichi closed his eyes slowly with a sigh. “How long?” He said it as if he was fighting every cell in his body but tried not to show it, taking deep and regulated breaths.

Oikawa saw it, though, and he had known that Daichi wouldn’t be happy to hear where Iwaizumi was at the moment, and he could see how Daichi had already jumped to the worst possible scenario – that Iwaizumi had stayed there since their fight. That Iwaizumi had spent two nights at the same apartment with him.

But just to be who he was, Oikawa only quirked his eyebrows up in question and waited for Daichi to open his eyes to see his silent question.

“How long has Hajime stayed with you?” Daichi asked, as Oikawa knew he would, when he opened his eyes.

“A couple of days,” Oikawa answered honestly, knowing that Daichi was slowly getting more and more angry. He knew that in this case, Daichi would feel extremely betrayed, and he wanted to soothe the man. He didn’t want to pick up a fight with Daichi at the moment and was adamant to just get Daichi to come with him. If they started to fight, Daichi would never go with him, no matter the reason. He knew they could fight another day, about something much more trivial, maybe in a place that wasn’t so high off the ground. After all, it was something they did at times, even though they did act civil with each other for the most of time.

“Look,” he hurried to explain before Daichi could blow up. “He only came to stay with me _and Suga_ because he wanted to piss you off. I know it came from you, that Iwa-chan and I shouldn’t spend nights in the same apartment, and you probably asked Iwa-chan to promise it to you because he still had lingering feelings for me when you two started dating. But he’s mad at you now, and wanted to hurt you in a similar fashion as you hurt him when you failed to mention that you were in love with Suga.” 

“I’m not in love with him anymore.” Daichi sounded tired of the whole thing.

“I know that.” Oikawa stressed his words. “That’s why I used the past tense,” he continued patiently, silently patting himself on the back for succeeding in it. “But you have to understand why Iwa-chan is mad at you that you didn’t tell him.”

Daichi was silent, but Oikawa could practically read the man’s thoughts, he could see the understanding in Daichi’s eyes.

“Especially since you and Suga have spent time alone.” Oikawa added.

Daichi still wasn’t saying anything, and Oikawa was starting to lose patience. He knew he was being fed his own medicine, and he didn’t like it. Maybe he would end up throwing Daichi out the window.

Daichi’s brow furrowed, but not with anger, Oikawa was glad to notice. “I’m confused. Whose side are you on?”

“I’m not taking any sides. You two just need to talk and I’m ready to drag you to my apartment kicking and screaming if that’s what it takes.”

Daichi made an amused scoff so Oikawa spread his stance to appear bigger. He already had a few centimeters over him when it came to height. He knew he was strong enough to drag Daichi if that’s what it took. He really had no doubt about that. It seemed that Daichi agreed with him, as he shuffled on his feet, clearly unclear on what he should do – go with Oikawa, or refuse to do so in his obstinacy. 

“You love Iwa-chan, and he’s miserable right now. You’re miserable right now. Just get over your stubborn ass and come with me so you two can talk and actually _listen_ to each other instead of starting another screaming match.”

“When was the last time you were in a relationship Oikawa?” Daichi asked with a sudden bite, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It was quite frankly a low blow. Oikawa knew that Daichi knew that his last relationship had been with Iwaizumi. “It’s not that easy to get over a fight like ours.”

“I know,” Oikawa said for the umpteenth time. He started to feel like he was hitting his head against a brick wall. The window was starting to look more and more tempting option – he might end up jumping himself, without any help from Daichi throwing or pushing him out.

“Every relationship needs work, even the ones that appear perfect. Don’t tell me you don’t want to fight for Iwa-chan.”

Daichi regarded him with steely eyes, his jaw locked and arms crossed, unmoving, a stone statue.

“You love him, he loves you,” he repeated in his most authoritative voice. He was done playing. “And you two are worth fighting for. That’s why I’m here. You know all this, so get over your hurt feelings and come with me.” He didn’t give Daichi another chance to hum and ah whether he should go to Iwaizumi and took Daichi’s coat from the rack by the door and threw it at the man. “Let’s go.”

Daichi caught the coat with ease, looking a little dumbfounded for a change, which was refreshing change from the scowl that had settled on his features.

Oikawa didn’t wait for him to put the coat on, but turned on the spot and opened the front door. He could hear Daichi trailing after him, though, and he felt a little satisfied that he had managed successfully in the first part of his mission – even if it had taken longer and more persuasion than he had originally thought.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets again when he stepped outside on to the street. There, he waited Daichi, who came within ten seconds, pulling on his gloves and wrapping the scarf around his neck more securely to battle the chilly wind of the clear and sunny day.

They walked silently the first blocks, making way for the pedestrian traffic by separating and then coming back to walk next to each other. It wasn’t awkward by any means. Just silent. Oikawa could almost hear the gears turn inside Daichi’s head, and he let the man think in peace. He knew that Daichi would talk without the prompt to when he wanted to, if he needed to.

“You know, I figured he was staying with Makki and Mattsun.” Daichi said quietly when they stopped to wait at traffic lights. “I didn’t want to think of him staying with you.”

“I get it.” Oikawa wasn’t completely unsympathetic and wasn’t too proud to let Daichi know it. “He slept on the couch and was grumpy beyond imagination.” He glanced at Daichi and saw the smallest upturn of the corner of his lips upon hearing that his boyfriend had been grumpy.

Oikawa had a feeling that Daichi was rather fond of Iwaizumi’s grumpiness.

“I barely saw Iwa-chan during the two nights. I mainly hung with Suga.” He elaborated a little, wanting to ease and relax Daichi so the man wasn’t seething by the time that they arrived to his and Suga’s apartment. Even though Daichi had quite willingly followed him out of the apartment, it didn’t change the fact that Daichi looked like he was holding in _a lot._

“That doesn’t erase the fact that he chose to come and stay in your apartment.”

“He’s not in love with me anymore.” Oikawa snapped. This was an old topic, older than the universe, and he was tired of being reminded and forced to revisit it. “Get your head out of your ass, because in less than ten minutes, you’re going to have some apologizing to do.”

Daichi let out a sharp sigh, sounding almost angry but at the same time as if he was letting go of it. “I know.”

Oikawa let the silence fall between them as they maneuvered their way through the throngs of people. He didn’t want to think too much on the fact that Iwaizumi was mad at Daichi for thinking that he was still in love with Suga and that’s why he had hidden it, and that Daichi was mad at Iwaizumi for thinking that he was still in love with Oikawa. Honestly, what a mess, and one to be easily cleared if the two truly believed and trusted each other as they had appeared to do before the Fight.

So, in favor of not sinking into the depths of another couples drama, he thought about Suga, wondering if the man was alone at the apartment, or hanging with Iwaizumi, if he had gotten everyone else out of their apartment in time.

“How did you know about me and Suga?” Daichi asked after another solid five minutes of silence when they stopped at another traffic light, bringing Oikawa back to the reality and the stone cold streets from his fluffy and soft as clouds daydreams.

Daichi had sounded curious, a little sheepish, when he asked. Oikawa glanced at him curiously. The earlier animosity and under-the-skin-simmering anger had seemingly disappeared and would need Indiana Jones like skills to uncover.

“Akiko-san told me.” He turned his eyes straight ahead when the light turned green so he didn’t walk straight into anyone when they crossed the street.  “Don’t worry, Suga doesn’t know.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Daichi stated. “He doesn’t know about your feelings either,” he added in a mumble.

“I’m working on it.”  

“Really?” Daichi sounded like he didn’t believe him. “You should work faster. Suga isn’t going to be single forever.” He said it so off-handedly that Oikawa got the feeling it was a general warning and not a threat.  

“I’m working on it,” Oikawa repeated with a heavy press on the words. Because he was working on it. The right moment just hadn’t happened yet.

And maybe, subconsciously, he was waiting for Suga to say it first. He knew that Suga liked him. It was only a matter of time until Suga was ready to admit it, not just to himself, but to Oikawa as well. He just wished that Suga didn’t meet someone else before that. That fear was what drove Oikawa to confess his feelings to Suga in little ways, in the easy three words he let slip now and then.

“Work faster.”

Oikawa glanced at Daichi again as they turned another corner and started to walk down the last stretch of street, the apartment building already visible to them.

“Trust me when I say that it sucks to see him happy with someone else.”

Oikawa frowned – why was Daichi telling him this? Was he trying to be nice and give some advice? And if so, why? Had Daichi understood that Oikawa was trying to be nice by bringing him to Iwaizumi? Or was there another motivation behind it that Oikawa couldn’t find and figure out.

“Okay,” Oikawa moved in front of Daichi and looked at him with unwavering determination. “I need to ask you about that.”

Daichi stopped abruptly in middle of a step. “About Suga?”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

Daichi looked away in thought before he brought his eyes back to Oikawa. “He was my friend.”

Oikawa could understand that apprehension – he definitely didn’t want to wreck the friendship he had with Suga. But still, Daichi had been in love with Suga for years, according to what Oikawa had understood from what Kuroo and Akiko had told him. That was a long time to hold onto longing without doing something about it.

“And I knew he didn’t feel the same way about me. If I had told him, he’d feel the need to at least _try_ to feel the same way about me. And yeah, maybe we could have dated, but only for a short while. It wouldn’t have lasted beyond graduating high school, and definitely not graduating university, and our friendship would’ve been wrecked.”

Oikawa considered Daichi’s words, and knew that he was right.

“I know that’s why you haven’t told Suga yet. You’re afraid for the sake of your friendship.” Daichi continued seamlessly.

Oikawa, however, got a little defensive. He wasn’t used to getting so much unwanted attention and advice about something that he already knew from Daichi. “So what if I am.”

“I get it.” Daichi placated. “Suga’s the best friend anyone could have. I appreciate that you value that trait in him.”

“Of course I do.”

“That’s good. But can I give you one piece of advice?”

Oikawa turned in his spot and started walking again, shrugging with his reply, “I guess.” He didn’t really care for advice – he knew what he was doing. But he wasn’t about to stop Daichi from giving it either. After all, Daichi knew Suga best, and could have valuable information that had somehow slipped past Oikawa.

“Confess your love _after_ his exhibit.”

Oikawa frowned. This wasn’t what he had expected at all. “Why?” He wasn’t used to people telling him to wait with his confession.  

“No reason,” Daichi answered vaguely and didn’t say a word for the rest of their walk.

 

 

...

 

 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called out in the chirpiest voice he could when he stepped out of his shoes, Daichi coming in right on his heels.

“Where have you been? The food’s been ready for a while.” Iwaizumi spoke as he made his way to the front door. “It’s probably... Cold...” He trailed off when he noticed Daichi.

“Food’s ready? Good,” Oikawa said conversationally, deciding to bypass the rising uncomfortableness, as he dropped his bag on the floor. “Then you two don’t need to wait for it and can go straight to talking and making up.”

“Why is he here?” Iwaizumi asked sharply, his words and murderous look directed at Oikawa in favor of ignoring Daichi.

He looked angrier than Oikawa had seen him for a long time. He wasn’t all that bothered by it, though. At least Iwaizumi didn’t look betrayed. Oikawa could deal with his friend being mad at him for a while. He could always make it up if it was needed, although he was sure that it wasn’t in this case. But betrayed? No, that Oikawa wouldn’t even forgive himself. Not again. Not after their break up.

“Because you two need to talk,” Oikawa answered easily, straight away, so Iwaizumi couldn’t voice how much he didn’t want to talk to Daichi. “Suga-chan, are you ready to go?” he called then to the depths of the apartment.

“You’re leaving us alone?” Daichi sounded incredulous.

“Oikawa –“ Iwaizumi sounded angry, but he was interrupted by Suga when he appeared from the hallway.

“You two are not allowed to leave until you talk,” Suga said, walking past Daichi and Iwaizumi to put his coat on.

“You’re in on this, Suga?” Daichi gaped at him.

“You can thank us later,” Oikawa said blithely, his hand already hovering to open the front door.

“Wait,” Iwaizumi said to stop them from leaving, while Suga bent down to put his shoes on. “Do you expect us to just sit here and talk? Just like that?”

“Why not?” Oikawa shrugged. He was well aware how unfair it was to just spring this up on Iwaizumi, but if the man had been given a heads up, he wouldn’t be here now.

So, in the end, Oikawa really hoped that the cause justified the means and the way they were going about it.

“I don’t know what you expect to accomplish with this. I don’t want to talk with Daichi. I’m not staying here if he is.” Iwaizumi continued with his anger, clearly oblivious to the hurt in his boyfriend’s expression.

“I think you misunderstood us, Iwaizumi-san,” Suga said seriously, straightening up from his grouch, as Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows from surprise that Suga addressed him so formally. “You are not allowed to leave until you two talk.”

“But – “

“No.” Suga was stern. “You need to talk through whatever it is that you’re fighting about. You’ve been together for years, been in love with each other and planning your future together for years. You two are capable of talking to each other, so do it.”

Iwaizumi shot a quick look at Daichi, who was looking more and more hurt by every passing second.

Things weren’t going smoothly, not that Oikawa had expected them to. But at least Iwaizumi and Daichi were in the same room. That was a start. And once he and Suga left, the two rascals wouldn’t have anyone else to take their pent-up hurt feelings out on.

Suga seemed to be on the same waveband with him, already tugging on Oikawa’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Remember, no sex in our beds, and if you don’t want anyone to walk in on you having make up –sex on the couch, lock the door,” Oikawa reminded with a good-natured smirk.

“I hate you, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi practically growled.

“I know,” Oikawa levelled with him. “You’ll get over it,” he continued and widened his smirk in the end before he followed Suga and closed the apartment’s front door after him.

He felt confident and comfortable about leaving Iwaizumi and Daichi alone in their apartment, even with the rocky start. He hoped that the two were still a couple when he and Suga got back home, and that he still had his best friend. He had a feeling that deep down Iwaizumi wanted to resolve the fight with Daichi, no matter how much he denied it. Oikawa knew how much Iwaizumi had missed Daichi during their short ‘separation’.

Apparently, Suga wasn’t bothered about leaving them alone either, his usual happy small smile present on his lips. “So, movies?”

“Movies,” Oikawa said with a nod, following Suga down the stairs, taking a couple of quick steps to walk beside him. “Hey, how did you manage to get everyone out of the apartment?”

“I asked their help for spring cleaning.”  

Oikawa laughed. He could imagine everyone scampering from the apartment the second the words ‘spring cleaning’ were out of Suga’s mouth. “You’re a genius.”

“Thank you,” Suga said with a beautiful, clearly pleased, smile.

Of course Oikawa had to make a note of it. Suga should know that his smile was beautiful, all part of his grand plan.

“Your smile could cure diseases.”

A small, almost imperceptible frown appeared on Suga’s face, not a confused one but concentrated, as if he was trying to remember something he had once heard. He stopped at the first landing to look at Oikawa. “Is this about the aggressive validation?” he asked uncertainly.

Oikawa stopped next to him and turned to face him. “Yes,” he admitted easily with his most charming smile. “See, you’re very smart.” He added seamlessly as he continued to descend the stairs.

“You can stop,” Suga laughed a little awkwardly, following close behind him.  

“No,” Oikawa shook his head as he said it. “I’m going to keep doing it until you take what I say seriously and without feeling weird about it.”

He could hear Suga roll his eyes when he denied that. “I’m not weird about it.”

“Come on, Suga,” Oikawa said with a scoff as he pushed the building’s front door open, deciding to forgo the “chan” he usually tacked to the end of his name to make sure that Suga knew he was being extremely serious. “You know that giving you a compliment can sometimes be like putting a crumbled bill into a vending machine.”

Suga let out a sputtering laugh at the comparison, following Oikawa to the sunlight outside. “I’m not that bad. Didn’t I just accept your compliment for telling me I’m a genius?”

“Oh, don’t try that.” Oikawa stopped walking when he noticed the slight grimace on Suga’s face. “I can see your expression and you’re definitely not okay with calling yourself a genius.”

“Well, maybe I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t appreciate it when you called me that.”

“Hm, good.” Oikawa studied Suga to make sure that the man meant what he said.

“Although, I’m still a little weirded out that you want to validate me. You don’t usually do that.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to roll his eyes – metaphorically, of course, because he didn’t like doing that. “Will you believe me when I say that it’s important for me to validate you, and that it’s important that you take it seriously?”

“Why is it so important to you?”

“It just is.”

Oikawa could feel Suga’s eyes on him, but didn’t look back, opting to tilt his head back to soak in the sunlight he had missed dearly. The feeling was equivalent to seeing Suga’s smile after a long and stressful day. After a while the heavy gaze moved away from him.

“I’ll try.”

Oikawa opened one of his eyes to take a quick peak at Suga, to make sure he had heard him right. There was a small smile on Suga’s features, in his eyes that were looking straight forward.

And Oikawa decided to believe him. Maybe it was the way Suga had smiled when he said it, or the soft way he said it, that made Oikawa believe him. It didn’t matter what convinced him, though. Not on that beautiful day. Not when the sunlight could be overshadowed by Suga’s radiant smile – the change of the seasons clear in the air as they cut through the park on their way to the movie theater.

“I don’t think we take enough advantage of the fact that we live about five minutes’ walk away from the movie theater.” Suga mused, his eyes up on the trees they were walking under, the evidence of the spring already visible in the smallest ways.

“I know. I really like how close it is. We should go to the movies more often.”

“We really should.” Suga directed his easy-going smile at Oikawa. “After your graduation.”

Oikawa liked that smile, practically lived for it and the way it held a promise for the future.

“After my graduation,” he agreed and moved closer to Suga, their hands almost brushing each other as they swung between them according to their almost matched steps.

 

 

...

 

 

“You don’t have to stay here. You can go.” Iwaizumi was looking at the front door and not at his boyfriend who was standing maybe three short steps away from him. He could feel Daichi’s eyes on him, but didn’t look back, not even when he heard the small sigh.

“Will you look at me?”

Iwaizumi held strong with his stubborn self and crossed his arms even tighter and turned his head to make a show of looking away from Daichi. He kind of hated Oikawa right at that moment more than anything or anyone in the world.

“Please?” Daichi’s voice was small, pleading, and Iwaizumi would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t affect him at all. In all honesty, he wanted to look at Daichi. He wanted to see how miserable he was – not to feel petty but to make sure that Daichi had missed him as much as he had missed Daichi.

But he didn’t look.

A tentative hand touched his shoulder. It was a familiar touch and Iwaizumi felt unable to move away from it, unable to stop himself when the hand turned him.

“I’m sorry,” Daichi said so sincerely Iwaizumi practically melted.

But he wasn’t ready to forgive yet.

“I should’ve told you about having feelings for Suga.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“But the thing is, I didn’t love him anymore when I met you. It was already in the past.”

“Did fucking Kuroo help you with that?” Iwaizumi asked with a bite. He wasn’t thrilled about that part of Daichi’s ‘dating’ history either. He wasn’t sure if Daichi knew what he thought about the ‘fuck buddy’ deal he had had with Kuroo, but he wasn’t about to start hiding his opinion now.

“No.” Daichi shook his head with his answer, but stopped himself in middle of it when he seemed to come to a different conclusion. “Well, maybe. But for the most part, I was able to fall out of love, so to speak, when I was watching how happy Suga was with Akaashi. And then I met you.”

Iwaizumi could remember meeting Daichi for the first time. It had been one of those generic parties at a time when they were trying to become adults even when they didn’t want to.

Iwaizumi sighed and pushed Daichi’s hand away from his shoulder and made his way to the living room where sat down heavily on a couch. Daichi followed after him and sat on the coffee table in front of him.

For the longest time, they didn’t talk, barely even looked at each other. Iwaizumi had decided not to be the first to talk after the silence had stretched so uncomfortably. Daichi, however, seemed to wait for Iwaizumi to start, to say something, anything.

After an obstinate silence that became another existence in the living room, Daichi finally spoke. “I understand that you’re mad at me for not telling you that I was in love with Suga. I’m prepared to apologize for it for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me, even if it takes decades and I’m already on my deathbed. But I cannot and I refuse to stay away from you. I’ve missed you so much I was physically hurting.”

“You know what else hurts?” Iwaizumi sneered. “Hearing from a third party about your feelings for Suga.”

“Past feelings.” Daichi was quick to correct. “He’s just a friend now. A best friend, yes, but I’m not in love with him anymore.”

“So you keep insisting.” Iwaizumi looked out the window. Daichi had repeated the same phrase over and over again during their fights before Iwaizumi had just given up and stormed out.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“You must’ve had a reason for keeping it a secret from me.”

“Honestly, and I’m sorry that I’ve thought this way – I didn’t think it mattered.”

“How couldn’t it matter, when you and Suga spent time together all the time, alone?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Daichi sighed, and moved his head in search of Iwaizumi’s eyes. “But I didn’t exactly like it either when I found out that you came to stay over at Oikawa’s.”

“How’d that medicine taste?”

“Bad. It’s still bad since I only found out when Oikawa came to kidnap me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Daichi with surprise. “You didn’t know I was here?”

“How could I?” Daichi asked with a sincere shrug. “You didn’t tell me where you went. I only knew you were alive when I saw that you read my texts.”

Iwaizumi had almost religiously read every single message Daichi had sent, but hadn’t responded to any of them. He had been mad, and he wanted Daichi to know that without having to explicitly say it out loud. Ghosting the messages had seemed like a fitting way to do that.

“I get that you came to stay here because you wanted to hurt me back, wanted to make me feel as bad as you probably did finding out about my past feelings for Suga. But honestly, thinking about it now, I don’t get why I asked you not to spend nights with Oikawa anymore.”

Iwaizumi sighed. Daichi sounded so genuine, so sincerely apologetic that it was hard to stay mad, especially now that Iwaizumi knew more about the whole situation. Before he had only known one side about the whole ‘having feelings’ thing.

“You asked because I still had feelings for Oikawa. I probably would have asked the same from you if you had dated your best friend.”

“But that’s just the thing. There’s no need for ‘the ban’ on sleepovers anymore. You don’t have those feelings for Oikawa anymore.” Daichi’s hand settled on Iwaizumi’s knee.

Iwaizumi pushed the hand off. “I’m still mad at you,” he explained curtly, crossing his arms in front of his chest again.

“There’s another reason I didn’t think it mattered that I loved Suga once upon a time.” Daichi spoke quietly, sounding almost afraid of his own voice and the words he was saying. “Suga never felt the same way about me.”

“I know. He told me.”

Daichi’s spine turned rigid as his back straightened in his sitting position, his eyebrows shooting up with surprise, but there was a hint of anger in his eyes now, clouding the sincere pleading. “And you believed him and not me?”

Iwaizumi didn’t appreciate the accusation. As it had been pointed out before, all Iwaizumi had heard was Daichi’s version of how things had been and gone. Now he knew more, thanks to Suga, and a little bit, Oikawa.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Iwaizumi shot back in anger that resurfaced quickly and easily whenever he was feeling agitated. “Finding out from Kuroo of all people made me feel like you were keeping it a secret on purpose.”

“Nothing ever happened between me and Suga!”

“I know!

“Why are we yelling then?”

“I don’t know!” Iwaizumi threw his arms in the air in exasperation.

“I feel like something’s lost in the translation here.” Daichi shook his head in similar exasperation, looking almost desperate. “And we speak the same language!”

“Stop yelling!”

“You yelled first!”

Iwaizumi felt the urge to pull his hair out with frustration. They were getting nowhere fighting like this, rising to shout at every single word and phrase, holding onto their own grudges and not hearing each other out.

The air in the living room felt heavy and charged with hostility. It reminded Iwaizumi of their poker games that they foolishly had played before they adapted stripping into the mix. The longer the silence that fell over them continued, the more Iwaizumi could feel the anger fizzle out of him, the quickly risen adrenaline leaving his body. He had missed Daichi dearly, and having him sitting right there made Iwaizumi realize how very much done with the fighting. He just didn’t know how to not fight when their past conversations had been nothing but fights in various levels or anger and volume. He felt utterly lost, having been so angry and then suddenly so tired and given up.

Daichi rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, his groans muffled into his arms. “Can you just listen to me for a minute?” He looked at Iwaizumi with so much pleading and depth in his eyes that Iwaizumi found it hard to look away. “And not interrupt me until I’ve said my piece? You can call me whatever hideous synonym you have for ‘lying bastard’ after it, but first I really need you to hear me out, without any yelling.”

Iwaizumi chewed on his tongue as he thought for a spell. “Fine.” There was a reason he was in love with Daichi, had been for years as Oikawa and Suga had so nicely pointed out, and he was reminded of it in that moment, looking at Daichi and the way the man had waited for his answer so patiently and had looked at him so fondly.

Daichi loved him, and he loved Daichi, and nothing would ever change that. Nothing. Not even fighting. And that was why Iwaizumi listened.

Daichi let out quick breath in preparation for what he was about to say and probably to stall just a minute so he could gather his thoughts before he voiced them. Iwaizumi wasn’t as patient as Daichi when he had to wait for something, but he made the effort now. He had promised he would.

“I’m so, so sorry for not telling you about my past feelings for Suga. I’m sorry I didn’t think those past feelings mattered when I met you. I’m sorry that you had to find out from someone else. I’m sorry that you were hurt and felt betrayed.” Daichi stopped to take a deep breath and leaned forward, placing his hands on Iwaizumi’s knees.

“I’m sorry that those two words don’t seem to cover how sorry I really am, but I’ll show it you in other ways. You don’t have to forgive me right now. That’s not why I’m here, that’s not why Oikawa dragged me here. I’m here so we can talk. I’m here so we can move past this. That’s all I want. _You_ are all I want. I love you, Hajime, more than anything or anyone in the universe. And I plan to be with you for the rest of my life if you’ll have me.”

Iwaizumi felt himself soften under Daichi’s sweet promises, spoken in the low whisper between them in such a caring way. He could feel how sorry Daichi was, and wanted to forgive. But he also felt that he deserved some pampering in the form of an apology from Daichi.

“I want to forgive you,” Iwaizumi admitted in a whisper. He saw hope in Daichi’s smile, in the way the corners of his lips curled infinitesimally upwards.

“Can you?” Daichi asked cautiously, as if he wanted to believe it, but didn’t want to in case he’d be disappointed. “Can we move past this?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said with a small nod. There was nothing he wanted more. “Just, tell me everything from now on, so I’m not blindsided by important information like this again,” he grumbled.

Daichi’s smile was soft when he looked at him, and he seemed extremely happy. “You’re so cute when you’re grumpy.”

“Stop.” Iwaizumi looked away, his chin raised in defiance, and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his lips involuntarily curling into the smallest smile known to man.

“You’re so cute,” Daichi repeated.

When Iwaizumi looked back, he saw the overflowing fondness in Daichi. “Don’t call me cute,” he grumbled.

It only made Daichi’s smile widen as he moved to straddle him. “I love it when you grumble,” he spoke quietly, his voice’s register low and almost husky. “I didn’t know it was my thing before I met you. It’s practically a turn on for me now.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t hold in the little sputter in reaction to Daichi’s confession.

“I love you,” Daichi said, the fondness and love and adoration dripping from his voice and eyes into the very soul and core of Iwaizumi. “I would never do anything intentionally to hurt you. And I’ll tell you everything from now on.”

Iwaizumi placed his hands on Daichi’s thighs and moved them up and down softly, the slide of the jeans’ material a little forgiving and restricting. “I know.”

Daichi dared the lightest kiss, his lips barely brushing on Iwaizumi’s. “I really am sorry for not telling you about Suga. I’ll apologize for it profusely, and make it up to you in any way you want.”

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn’t believe how Daichi was able to turn him into putty so easily, and with just a few choice words.

“Kiss me again,” Iwaizumi said, already arching towards Daichi, who did as he was asked.

Both of them sighed into the kiss that was nothing but the sweetest press of lips on lips.

“I’m still not entirely ready to forgive you.” Iwaizumi said when they broke apart from the kiss.

“I know.” Daichi made a small nod, his eyes still closed as he leaned his forehead against Iwaizumi’s. “I understand. And I’ll keep making up to you how I omitted this from you.”

“Good,” Iwaizumi said with a content smile, his thumbs running along the seam on the inside of Daichi’s jeans. “Now kiss me again. I’ve missed you.”

“Good,” Daichi breathed out the word and crashed his lips with him. “I’ve missed you too.”

Iwaizumi found it endlessly funny how they were just repeating each other’s words, and he chuckled into the kiss.

“What’s funny?” Daichi asked in middle of trailing little kisses and nips down the side of his neck.

“Nothing.” It really wasn’t worth the mention.

“This is two way street, mister.” Daichi adapted a hint of sternness into his voice as he leaned back a bit, his hands on his waist. “If you want me to tell you everything, you have to do so too.”

“I love you,” Iwaizumi said. “That’s all.”

Daichi studied his face for a moment, and Iwaizumi let him. He slid his hands softly along Daichi’s thighs to his ass and brought his hips flush against his.

Daichi leaned back in, pressing his chest almost right against Iwaizumi’s. “I love you too,” he whispered against Iwaizumi’s lips before he pressed them together in a tender kiss that Iwaizumi responded with delight.

“I can’t believe Suga and Oikawa planned this.” Iwaizumi broke apart from the kiss to say before he went back to kissing.

“Mm, don’t talk about them right now.” Daichi protested as Iwaizumi left small kisses along his jwa. “It’s bad enough that I’m grinding on you in their living room.”

“Want to take it out on them that they had this evil master plan to force us into the same apartment?” Iwaizumi quirked his eyebrow as suggestively as possible.

“I’m pretty sure the door was unlocked, both of us free to leave if we wanted to.”

Iwaizumi made a whining groan sound in the back of his throat. That wasn’t the reply he had been waiting to hear from Daichi. “Just answer my question.”

Daichi chuckled, the word ‘cute’ somewhere in the mix. “Yes,” he breathed against Iwaizumi’s lips. 

They continued kissing, their hands and arms in a tangle from the effort of trying to take clothes off in a hurry.

At some point the concept of time ceased to exist. There was nothing more than them in that very moment, as if time stood still as they savored every stuttering breath, moan and touch on their skin.

Iwaizumi could faintly register the sound of the front door opening, but at the same time Daichi did something that made him Moan, and everything else that wasn’t Daichi, his body, lips or hands, had disappeared from existence.

He had truly missed Daichi and he let his body do what came naturally to it. In no time, with just a few discarded items of clothing, their hands were roaming as feverishly as their mouths were eager to taste.

But it didn’t go past the quick handy in their pants – they were quite aware, almost painfully so, that they were in a living room, in an apartment that was in free use of every tenant in the building. Who knew who might come in?

They came as quickly as they had started, but Iwaizumi couldn’t find it in himself to mind. He knew they had more time, much more. He hadn’t forgiven fully yet, but he was on the way. When it came to Daichi, the missing of him was a bigger part than being angry at him.

“I can’t believe Oikawa managed to make us conciliate.”

“Ugh, don’t mention him now,” Daichi grumbled and leaned back to look Iwaizumi into eye. “You know, I hated him when we first met. I actually hated him really long when we were dating.”

“Why?” It wasn’t news to Iwaizumi – he knew Daichi really hadn’t liked Oikawa. But he wasn’t aware of the reason why. He had inkling, but he wasn’t sure enough to take it to the bank.

“Because you still loved him.”

“Oh.” Iwaizumi wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had still been in love with Oikawa when he had met Daichi, it had been quite soon after the break up. And yes, his friends might’ve thought of Daichi as nothing more than a rebound. Somehow though, they had passed that stage, maybe because their start had been so slow. Iwaizumi knew that Daichi had been aware of his loving lingering feelings for Oikawa, and had wondered what the man thought about the whole thing, what had convinced Daichi to stay despite of them. He never got an answer for that, since he never asked. But there must’ve been something that convinced Daichi that there was a very good reason for him to stick around, to pursue him.

And Iwaizumi was so very glad that Daichi had found or seen or realized something of worth in him.

“What –“ Iwaizumi halted to think through if he wanted to hear the answer, very quickly coming to the conclusion that he definitely wanted to know. “What changed? How come you don’t hate him anymore?”

“You weren’t in love with him anymore.” Daichi answered simply, as if it was obvious. “And when I noticed you look at him amicably and nothing but that, I asked you to move in with me.”

“That was a year into our relationship.”

“I know.” Daichi smiled fondly. “I know.”

“I wasn’t in love with him that long.”

“Probably not, but I didn’t want to move into a more serious phase in our relationship until I was sure.”

“What made you sure? It couldn’t have just been the look in my eyes.”

“You stopped calling him ‘Tooru’.”

“Hm,” Iwaizumi hummed and combed his fingers through Daichi’s short hair. That was probably true. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember the last time he had called Oikawa by his given name.

“I’m glad you saw it and realized it and asked me to move in with you.”

“Me too.” Daichi agreed and brushed their noses together in adoring gesture. 

“So, are there any other secrets you’re hiding from me?” Iwaizumi asked lightly.

“Well,” Daichi started slowly with a hum. “Last week I bought a donut and didn’t bring you one because I know you’re on that diet that I secretly think is stupid.”

Iwaizumi’s expression fell into one of annoyed disappointment. “I was being serious.”

“So was I,” Daichi insisted softly. “You don’t need to diet,” he stressed on.

Iwaizumi huffed.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Iwaizumi looked to the door in surprise. He hadn’t heard it open, but somehow Suga and Oikawa were now standing there – Suga with a soft smile as he took off his shoes and Oikawa with his smug smirk.

 

 

...

 

 

_Three hours earlier:_

 

“What movie do you want to see?” Oikawa was looking up at the options on the board, waiting next in line to make good use of the free tickets he had scored from somewhere he couldn’t even remember anymore. It was another night at the small-ish movie theater had decided to show some of the old classics, among the new releases. Oikawa assumed that the older gentleman who owned the movie theater loved the old classic movies, and was actually providing service that none of the other movie theaters didn’t.

In short, days like that were good for going to see a movie when none of the new ones spiked their interest.

“I’m fine with anything,” Suga said with a shrug when they moved forward in the line. “You can decide.”

“Okay,” Oikawa said with a smirk. “Two tickets to Ringu.”

“No, not that one.” Suga cut in immediately.

“Why not?” Oikawa looks a little confused. “You love horror movies.”

“I do,” Suga confirmed. “But I’m not holding your hand through the scariest parts of it.”

Oikawa made an exaggerated pout that Suga ignored as he told the person behind the counter, who looked amused about their bickering, the name of Oikawa’s favorite old school alien movie. It was once again playing in the theater because of its twenty year anniversary or something like that. Or maybe it was the movie theater’s owner’s favorite movie as well, since it was constantly played there.

“Don’t you want to hold my hand?” Oikawa asked with his pout when they got their tickets and started towards the cinema.

“I didn’t say that,” Suga said, looking away from Oikawa not to appear too transparent.

Oikawa’s pout disappeared and a pleased smile came in its place.

When they turned the corner to walk up the stairs, Oikawa placed his hand on Suga’s lower back for a second, or five – but who was counting? Since it took at least fifteen seconds for them to get to the top of the stairs to the second floor, and only then did Oikawa drop his hand. Not because he wanted to, but because someone had recognized them.

“Oh, Sugawara-san!” a voice called from somewhere to their side and they both turned to look. Oikawa tucked his hand in his jacket’s pocket as imperceptibly as possible, and curled his fingers into a fist so it would be harder for him to reach out to touch Suga again. The more accustomed he became to touching Suga, the harder it was to stop.

“Takeda-sensei, hello. How are you?” Suga asked with a pleasant smile when the man stopped at a respectable distance from them.

“Good,” Takeda replied just as pleasantly. It was clear that the two were content, almost eager, to keep their working relationship just that and strictly nothing more than that. “Are you here on a date?”

Or maybe not.

Oikawa was intrigued about the way Takeda looked between him and Suga so unabashedly and with a smile that indicated that he knew more than he let on. Oikawa was instantly wary of that smile.

“Oh,” Suga sounded surprised as he reacted to Takeda’s question. “No, no,” he said with a lighthearted chuckle. “This is my friend and roommate, Oikawa Tooru.”

“Of course,” Takeda said and bowed a little, which Oikawa reciprocated. “I recognize him from one of your photos.”

That explained the knowing smile. But Oikawa was more interested to know more about the photos, as in plural – _photos._ Maybe the photos he had found on Suga’s camera?

“What photo?” he turned to ask from Suga with a grin.

“Nothing,” Suga said dismissively, not looking back at him.

Oikawa’s grin widened at the forced dismissal. This was another chance for him to tease Suga and he was going to cease it.

Unfortunately his plan to do so was spoiled when another man joined them and Takeda introduced him as his “life partner”, and nothing else.

The man was forced to introduce himself as Ukai, and nothing more. As if it was a stage name.

That wasn’t the most disturbing thing about the meeting, though. No, that nomination went to the way Ukai’s eyes fixed on Oikawa, even when Takeda introduced Suga. He was still courteous so Oikawa didn’t really have anything against the ogling.  

Takeda had placed his hand on Ukai’s shoulder. “Kei, this is Sugawara-san and –“

“I think we’ve met,” Ukai interrupted Takeda, who didn’t seem to mind. He only shook his head with a soft chuckle, apparently used to being interrupted. It was probably an every time kind of occurrence that happened between the two of them.

“We have, through Kuroo.” Suga replied. “It’s nice to meet you again.”

_Ah,_ Oikawa realized. That would explain why Suga knew him, and Oikawa didn’t – he still hadn't been to any of Kuroo’s team’s games. It would be hard for him to go and see others play the game he loved so fiercely for years.

“You as well.” Ukai quickly nodded to Suga before his eyes trained on Oikawa again. “And you’re Oikawa Tooru.”

Oikawa raised his eyebrows with surprise. “Do we know each other?” he asked, looking to Suga and then back to Ukai.

“No,” Ukai answered shortly. “I’m friends with your university team’s coach and I saw some of your games. You were good, caught my eye.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa said with a tight smile, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Why’d you stop playing? What happened?” Ukai asked, either not noticing Oikawa’s discomfort or not caring about it.

Oikawa really didn’t want to talk about his failure of a volleyball career before it could be called ‘a career’. “I was forced out,” he said through gritted teeth.  

“Oh,” Ukai nodded in understanding. “Knee or shoulder?” His eyes traveled to Oikawa’s knee, and then to his shoulder, before they settled back to Oikawa’s eyes.

“Knee,” Oikawa said with a sigh. It was a merciless reminder to him of what he’d lost every time he saw the ugly scar on his knee, and tended to just not think about it on most days. Suga must’ve known how uncomfortable he was talking about it, shifting protectively next to Oikawa, looking ready to jump in at any moment. It was sweet, and Oikawa’s heart melted a little bit more for him.

Just for a second, he was able to give himself relief from his painful regrets, in the form of a thought about Suga and how sweet he could be, before Ukai spoke again in his careless manner.

But, he seemed to have caught on to how uncomfortable the atmosphere had gotten.“That sucks,” he said sympathetically. “What are you doing now?”

Oikawa held in his relieved sigh – this he could talk about. “I’m studying sport science.”

“Oikawa is actually in the process of writing his dissertation.” Suga jumped in.

“Hmm, really? What are you going to do with that one?” Ukai didn’t exactly look taken aback or surprised, but it still seemed that he hadn’t expected the answer.

“Don’t know yet.”

Ukai frowned. “You don’t have a job lined up yet?”

“No,” Oikawa answered curtly. He wasn’t exactly enjoying the conversation, or rather aptly named, the interrogation that it had turned into. Suga shifted next to him again.

“I might have something for you.” Ukai said slowly, measuring his words as if he was simultaneously measuring Oikawa’s attributes and capabilities.

“What do you mean?” Oikawa asked as slowly as Ukai had spoken, his eyes narrowing just a fraction with the underlining suspicion in his voice.

“Have you thought about being a coach?”

Oikawa blanked for a short moment, already wondering if Ukai asked because he wanted to offer him a coach’s position. “I used to coach my nephew’s volleyball team,” he informed Ukai, still suspicious of his ulterior motive for his line of inquiry. “Why?”

“The team that I coach is just one aspect of a larger organization. There are a lot of junior teams. They’re looking for new coaches for the teams.”

Oikawa took a sharp inhale through his nose – he had been right. He was indirectly offered a position as a coach in a volleyball team. He was –

Oikawa took a sharp inhale to process the realization when Ukai continued.

“And they’re also looking to hire a new sports director to one of the junior teams. Do you think you would be interested in something like that?”

Oikawa was stunned. Had he been offered a job in all seriousness?

“Um, I’m not sure,” Oikawa replied with hesitation, glancing at Suga for support. He couldn’t believe what was happening. This was the last thing he had thought would happen to him that day. Even witnessing a meteor shower from the international space station had seemed more possible, or even meeting an actual alien.

“Why don’t you think about it?” Ukai suggested. “Let me know and I’ll arrange an interview.”

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed to think about it. His nod was stiff and mechanical. If he was being honest, he was interested in coaching. It could be fun, although mentally painful. He really should think about it first.

“Good,” Ukai said with a decisive nod. “I’m sure you’ll roommate can get my number from Ittetsu.” He looked to Takeda and Suga, who were still silently standing by and listening to their conversation.

“I’ll do that.” Oikawa promised.

“We better go now or we’ll miss our movie,” Takeda said then, already pushing Ukai forward. “I’ll see you in a couple of days, Sugawara-san,” he called over his shoulder.

Suga returned the goodbye with a wave and a smile.

“Are you okay?” he turned to Oikawa then with a worried frown and a small encouraging smile.

“Yeah,” Oikawa said with an indeterminable exhale and a series of small nods. He really was fine, just a little struck. It was nothing he couldn’t get over.

Actually, upon closer inspection, he found himself relieved under everything else.

“Shall we go too?” Oikawa asked then with an easy smile to dissipate Suga’s worry. He truly was fine. Maybe he was ready to coach. Maybe he was ready to step back onto the court, even if it was just at the sidelines. Maybe.

“I don’t want to miss the movie.”

“Yeah.” Suga’s worry turned into a soft smile. Oikawa was grateful that Suga seemed to understand that he needed to process the offer he had gotten on his own, and they continued on their way in a mutual silence.

That held for maybe ten seconds.

“You used to coach your nephew’s volleyball team?” Suga whispered, as if he was asking from himself if he had heard it right, and not from Oikawa.

Oikawa scoffed anyway. Was that what had stuck with Suga from the entire conversation. “Don’t look so surprised, Suga-chan. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“But how could they stand you?” Suga seemed to ask from the universe, once again not from Oikawa.

Oikawa was a little offended, not for the way Suga asked but for _what_ he asked. “What does that mean?” he demanded to know with a furrowed brow.

“It means that you’re kind of pompous when you’re around someone who you don’t find as good at something as you find yourself.” Suga explained softly, his smile a true match to his tender words. “I didn’t mean anything bad with it, wipe that frown.”

Oikawa held his frown for a moment longer, just to be a bit petty and a lot childish. “I was a good coach.” He pouted.

“I believe you,” Suga continued in his soft tone. “But I bet the kids still hated you,” he added with an impish smile.

Oikawa made an indignant sound at the back of his throat. “I thought we were going to have a nice date watching a movie, and here I am, getting teased and mocked for no reason.”

Suga stopped and looked inquisitively at Oikawa. “A date?”

“Yeah, a friend-date.” Oikawa shrugged, trying to appear casual and aloof about the whole thing, when in all honesty, he was almost panicking that Suga would find out that he really, really, _really,_ wanted to date him. He had a feeling that Suga wasn’t ready for dating yet, no matter how much he showed the obvious signs of being in ‘like’. “Do you have a problem with it?”

Suga shook his head. “No,” he said with a smile that was turning almost wicked, as if he knew more than he was letting on and was poor at hiding it. “A friend-date sounds good.”

“Good,” Oikawa said with an affirmative nod and they continued to walk towards the correct theater in silence. “But if it was a date-date, would that be okay too?” Oikawa asked carefully, as if he was testing the ice and if it’d carry his weight, when they got to the right place.

Suga was walking ahead of Oikawa, looking down at the numbered rows of almost-plush and almost-comfortable seats. “A real date with you?”

“Yes, a real date with me. Would you be okay with that?”

Suga was quiet until they sat down, and Oikawa waited anxiously. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to handle it if Suga’s answer was negative. Why did he even ask then, Oikawa wondered, mentally kicking himself now that Suga’s answer was taking longer and longer.

“I think I’d be okay with that.” Suga finally answered, to Oikawa’s relief.

He did a double-take when he heard Suga’s answer.

“You would like to go on a real date with me?” He clarified his question, to get a specific answer. Suga’s answer had been too ambiguous, too easy to interpret in many different ways, in many different settings and scenarios, taking into account the different possible timelines and parallel universes.

Suga looked at him with a small and lovely smile, which made Oikawa die just a little.

“Yes, I would.”

 

 

…

 

 

Suga’s words were still rattling inside Oikawa’s head when they exited the theater two hours later. The way Suga had said that he would like to go on a date with him was bouncing within his thoughts, making it impossible for him to think about anything else cohesively, the image of Suga’s smile interrupting him all the time. Oikawa had barely been able to focus on the movie with his skin crawling with excitement and anticipation. Oh, how he had wanted to hold Suga’s hand in the dark theater. And maybe do other things too, but the kisses he was hoping for were still a ways away.

“What are you thinking about Ukai’s offer?” Suga asked as they stepped out of the theater.

“I’ll have to think about it.” Oikawa answered honestly. Due to Suga’s admission that he wouldn’t mind a date had momentarily overshadowed everything else.

“I think you’d be a good coach,” Suga mused.

Oikawa looked at him with exaggeratedly widened eyes. “Really? Are you serious? That’s not what you said before the movie when you teased my coaching abilities when you’ve never even seen me in action.”

Suga tilted his head a little, as if he thought that Oikawa’s question was silly. “I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease you.”

“Right, of course. I forgot who I was speaking with.” Oikawa crossed and leaned his arms on the railing they had stopped next to and looked down to the first floor.

Suga chuckled lightly and leaned his hands behind his back to the railing before he sobered. “Honestly, I think you would be a really good coach. The way you analyze the game and see the players and their positions and skills and everything is something I’ve never seen before. Plus, I bet your smile could disarm the opposing teams’ coaches so it would be an easy win for your team.”

Oikawa frowned at the familiar sounding phrase. “Are you validating me?” he asked suspiciously, looking at Suga through narrowed eyes.

“So what if I am?” Suga raised a challenging eyebrow, his smile so charming in the crappy and artificial lighting that it seemed impossible to Oikawa. “If you’re allowed to do it, why can’t I?”

“You haven’t actually _allowed_ me to do it.” Oikawa pointed out, straightening from his lean and turning sideways to look straight at Suga. “You get weird every time I do it and insist that I should stop.”

“What if I promise not to get weird anymore? Can I keep validating you then?”

Oikawa studied Suga for a moment, his expression serious until Suga’s smile – that held too much in it – became too much to look without sunglasses and without getting blinded and he gave in with a chuckle.

“I have a feeling I couldn’t stop you anyway, no matter what.”

“You’re right about that,” Suga confirmed and started to walk towards the stairs. “See? You’re genius too.” He looked over his shoulder in a far too enticing way for it to be casual.

Oikawa laughed, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping it contained. His mind was reeling with everything that was happening, what had happened and the only natural response he felt for it all was to laugh.

“So, um, what should we do next?” Suga asked casually when they stopped next to the stairs, letting those with a clearer idea of their future plans to trickle past them.

Oikawa let his laughing run its course before he attempted an answer. “Go home?” he suggested. “I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Suga nodded his head. “Me too. And I want to check that Daichi and Iwaizumi haven’t accidentally killed each other.”

“Accidentally?” Oikawa quirked his eyebrow and started to descend the stairs with Suga. He was in awe at how easily Suga could change the feel of a conversation, and how seamlessly he could introduce a new topic.

He could do it too, of course. He was the master of flirting and changing of topics, but it was interesting to see Suga excel in it too. Just a few minutes ago they had been talking about Ukai’s offer and then flirting about the validation –thing, and now they were concerned about the couple they had ‘locked’ into their apartment. The locks being metaphorical, obviously – no one locked the apartment door anymore.

“I don’t want to think that they’d be able to perform a pre-meditated murder, no matter how angry they were.”

“Okay, I get your point.” Oikawa stepped around Suga to stop him when they got to the first floor. “But, if they have killed each other, no matter how accidentally, I’m not helping you get rid of the bodies.”

Suga smiled with another hidden secret behind it. “That’s okay. Won’t be my first time doing it. I have a routine in place already. A guy to call, a place to bury them.”

Oikawa blinked slowly a couple of times, his expression remaining unmoved. “You scare me sometimes,” he noted blandly. it wasn’t just because of what Suga said, but the way the atmosphere shifted so easily between them from just the slightest change in Suga’s smiles. Oikawa had long ago decided to just go with it. It was too much fun not to.  

“Always happy to keep you on your toes.” Suga grinned.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes again. “Are you in cahoots with the microwave?” he asked with suspicion dripping from his voice. “I swear it’s trying to kill me too.”  

“Well, if that ever happens, I have glitter at ready to sprinkle over your body.”

Oikawa was unable to stop himself from chuckling. “Don’t joke.” He appreciated Suga’s sense of humor and lover their banter, the quick way Suga hit him back with a quip.

He purposefully turned a bit too dramatically grave when he forced the chuckles down. “Don’t you find it a little suspicious? Especially how it’s always eight minutes ahead? Like it knows the future or something?”

Suga let out a delighted giggle, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it.

Oikawa smiled fondly upon seeing and hearing it – if he could choose the last thing to witness before he’d die, he would choose Suga’s giggle.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Suga furrowed his brow, and managed to look cuter. “I know I’m weird, you don’t have to make this weirder looking at me like that.”

“Sorry,” Oikawa chuckled awkwardly and sighed. It was absolutely mind blowing to him how oblivious Suga was to certain social cues, specifically the ones that showed adoration and attraction towards him. “It’s just –“ He stopped to come up with an excuse and said the first thing that came to his mind, his eyes looking at the shirt Suga was wearing, visible under the open jacket. “You’re wearing my shirt on our not-a-date –date.”

“Not a date –date?” Suga’s smile was small, but sly, just like his head tilt. “I thought it was a friend-date.”

“Well,” Oikawa brushed his hair back with his right hand. He didn’t miss the way Suga’s eyes followed his hands movement. “What would you call this?”

Suga kept smiling. “Not a date –date works.”

“Good,” Oikawa decided. He was about to suggest that they should keep moving when he noticed Suga’s eyes focus on something right past his head.

“Say, when was the last time you saw Kageyama?” Suga’s smile wasn’t teasing or lovely or cute or coy. In fact, it was barely there at all.

“Why?”

Suga gestured with his chin behind Oikawa, and he looked over his shoulder.

“Oh.”

“Is this going to be awkward?” Suga asked carefully, his eyes still on Kageyama when Oikawa turned his head back.

“It didn’t look like he was coming here, so no, it won’t be awkward.”

“He’s walking here right now.” Suga said with a knowing look behind his eyes, in the hint of a smile in his expression.

Within five seconds Kageyama was standing next to them, his hard eyes looking as blue as ever. But for the life of him, Oikawa couldn’t remember why he had been attracted to them, or towards the man.

“Oikawa-san,” Kageyama started curtly, giving a small bow before he turned to address Suga in a similar fashion.

_Great,_ Oikawa thought, _Kageyama wasn’t being awkward at all_. He almost regretted going to the movies. But only almost.

“Hello Kageyama-san,” Suga said kindly, as was fitting to him, and bowed back. “How have you been?”

“Okay,” Kageyama answered, and Oikawa believed him. If Kageyama had said ‘good’ or ‘fine’, he wouldn’t have believed him. “Are you two here on a date?”

“It’s a not-a-date –date.” Suga supplied the answer with a slight sly smile to the question and the studying look between him and Oikawa.

Kageyama frowned. “A what?”

“It’s an inside joke,” Oikawa explained flippantly with a wave of his hand. “It looks like you’re here on a date, though.” He took another look at the man he had seen standing next to Kageyama when he had glanced over his shoulder before.

“Yeah,” Kageyama said with an exhale, looking at the man too. There was a faint hint of a smile in his expression that somehow collided with the unyielding steal in his eyes. It didn’t help in making things any less awkward as the three of them just stood there, not saying a word to one another, none of them having a clear idea of how to proceed.

Oikawa made the decision to pull the plug on the weird encounter of the third kind quickly, before it turned even more uncomfortable.  “We were just about to go home.” He pointed the words towards Kageyama and lightly tugged on Suga’s sleeve to have him follow, already taking a couple of steps back. “Take care, Kageyama-san.”

“Oh,” Kageyama sounded disappointed, but didn’t object in any way when Suga did a little wave of goodbye and they started towards the front doors.

Oikawa dropped his hold on Suga’s sleeve when they both were walking beside each other, but as soon as he did, they heard Kageyama call after them.

“Oikawa!”

Oikawa and Suga turned to look back, and saw Kageyama taking a couple of jogging steps towards them.

“Yes?” Oikawa asked with raised eyebrows.

“Um,” Kageyama shuffled on his feet, his eyes flitting between Oikawa and Suga.

Suga seemed to catch on first – which was boggling Oikawa’s mind even more when the man could be absolutely blind about other things. “I’ll wait by the doors,” Suga said to Oikawa, his hand sliding down along Oikawa’s upper arm and shivers running along with the touch, and left him alone with Kageyama.

Kageyama’s eyes followed Suga for a brief moment, only bringing his attention back to Oikawa when he cleared his throat expectantly.

“Did you need something?” Oikawa asked rather irritably. He didn’t like it when his alone time with Suga was being interrupted. He wanted to go back to Suga and flirt more.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Kageyama sounded almost sincere, but his hard set in his eyes was unwavering.

Oikawa realized that it must’ve been hard for Kageyama to say the words out loud. But he was still surprised and baffled. What was Kageyama thanking him for? He hadn’t been the nicest person in the world towards Kageyama when they had been hooking up. “For what?”

“For what you said at the café the last time we met. About making decisions and not looking back, accepting them and moving on.”

Oikawa studied Kageyama for a moment, and he had to admit that the man looked more secure within himself, holding himself a little bit taller and prouder. “You’re welcome.”

Kageyama nodded, his eyes flitting somewhere behind Oikawa. “Why are you here on a not-a-date and not on a date with Sugawara-san?”

Oikawa shot a quick look towards the front doors, searching for Suga and finding him immediately. Suga was hanging off to the side, his gaze up on the screen showing previews of upcoming movies. He must’ve sensed someone looking at him, for he abandoned watching the previews and let his eyes roam around the space until he met Oikawa’s gaze and flashed a darling smile.

“I haven’t told him yet.” Oikawa said in a husky voice so it wouldn’t travel in the large space to Suga.

“Told what? That you were in love with him?” Kageyama sounded surprised, as if the man hadn’t already guessed it back in January.

“It took a while to admit it to myself.”

“You should tell him.”

“I know,” Oikawa said with a nod and looked back to Kageyama. “You should go or your date is going to think you’re not interested in him.”

Kageyama glanced at his date. “Yeah, I should.”

“Good luck with everything,” Oikawa said as his parting words, not waiting for Kageyama to say anything back before he was already walking towards Suga. It felt a fitting goodbye, and Oikawa was pleased that the ending note hadn’t been as awkward as it could’ve been. He was quite sure he’d never run into Kageyama again.

“Everything okay?” Suga asked with a caring and fond smile when Oikawa reached him.

“Everything’s good. Let’s go home.”

“Let’s,” Suga agreed and slung his arm around Oikawa’s shoulders. “You’re too tall.” He grumbled almost immediately.

Oikawa chuckled as Suga dropped his arm. “I think I’m the perfect height, actually,” he countered and wrapped his arms around Suga’s shoulders from behind. “See? Perfect.”

Suga made a noncommittal sound, but let Oikawa hang onto him.

“This is actually nice,” Oikawa spoked conversationally, as if his heart wasn’t making a new and fresh, faster than ever and ready for radio EDM beat inside his chest. “It’s usually the other way around, with you clinging onto me like this.” He made the casual comment as they walked in a back hug among the busy people.

“Your shoulder’s at a perfect level for it.” Suga’s voice was light, almost distracted, and Oikawa’s mind raced with different reasons for it – different but all basically the same reason.

“So, I’m not too tall then?” Oikawa teased Suga, biting his bottom lip and taking a deep breath to calm down his wildly running imagination from getting ahead of the situation.

Suga didn’t answer, and the silence could have been interpreted in several ways, so Oikawa opted not to at all. “This is nice,” was all he whispered when he pressed his nose to Suga’s hair. Because it was nice.

“And no one is looking at us at all,” Suga said sarcastically. It made Oikawa laugh, and he lifted his head from Suga’s hair.

“Do you want me to let go?” He wanted to give that decision to Suga. He was quite happy to just keep walking as they were, chest to back and waddling like conjoined ducks. But he was ready to let go too, although reluctantly, if Suga wished him to.

Suga was quiet for the longest time, whilst Oikawa kept hugging him as they neared their building, cutting through the small park. He wanted to change his earlier opinion of how nice it was to live so close to the movie theater.

“I don’t mind it if you want to keep clinging onto me,” Suga said finally, and Oikawa could hear the smile in his voice. “As long as you let go when we get to our building. We’d never make it up the stairs like this.”

Oikawa laughed, visualizing them waddling up the stairs and laughing together when they’d stumble and fall. “Deal,” he sobered enough from his laughter to say.

True to his words, Oikawa let go when Suga pulled the keys from his pocket to open the building’s front door.

“Now I’m cold.” Suga stated as he pulled the door open.

Oikawa chuckled, loving how clingy Suga could be in such a casual manner. He doubted Suga even noticed it himself when he did it, the habit almost second nature to him.

“You told me to let go.” Oikawa reminded him fondly, following Suga up the stairs.

“I know.” Suga sighed. “The warmth was nice as long as it lasted.”

“I can keep hugging when we’re inside.” Oikawa suggested in a low voice, counting back the stairs that still remained before the second floor. He had a feeling that their date that wasn’t a date would end the second they entered their apartment, the closing door being the proverbial killing strike on their outing.

Suga laughed at his suggestion, the sound airy and light – lovely enough for Oikawa to fall even more in love with him, if that even was possible.

“No need.” Suga said to his disappointment, already opening their apartment door, to the sound of low moans.

Oikawa and Suga froze just behind the threshold. They kept listening to make sure they had heard right, and quickly closed the door when they heard it again.  

“I’m guessing they made up.” Suga said with the cutest giggle Oikawa had ever heard, his back pressed against the door in fear of it opening on its own.

“Guess so,” Oikawa agreed. “And on our couch too.” He hung his head back with a groan.

“I’m giving Daichi so much shit for this.” Suga kept giggling.

Oikawa straightened his neck to look at him, at the happy smile, the lines by his eyes formed by the force of his laughter. He was so in love he could barely believe it himself anymore. He wanted to act on his feelings, to pull Suga closer, wrap his arms around him, cup his cheek and kiss him.

With a sigh he let go of his wants and returned to being content with what he had with Suga – their friendship.

“So, what do we do now? I don’t really feel like going in there and interrupting them. Plus, I’m pretty sure that neither of them would be too fond of the idea of us watching.” He stepped down two steps and sat down.

“We could go out to eat,” Suga suggested, hovering above and behind Oikawa.  

“You want to continue our not-a-date –date?” Oikawa asked with a smirk, looking behind him and up at Suga.

“We’d have to eat anyway. We could go out for it, couldn’t we?” Suga asked, ever-so-elusively as he sat on the step above Oikawa’s, legs on either side of him as he leaned against Oikawa’s back.

Oikawa wasn’t sure, but he was still quite certain, that those were Suga’s fingers ghosting on his shoulders.

“We could.” Oikawa agreed and pulled Suga’s arms tighter around him, intertwining their fingers as if it was second nature to do so. He had lied – he couldn’t let go off his wants to hold Suga. “What do you want to eat?”

Suga hummed as he thought. “I feel like having sushi.”

“Let’s have sushi then.” Oikawa decided, his tone suggesting that they should go already, yet he didn’t make a move to actually get up. And it seemed that Suga wasn’t in a hurry to let go either.

They sat on the stairs for a good long while, and after a fraction of it had passed, Oikawa started to sway from side to side to the rhythm of the song playing in his head. The steps under him hard and cold, but he wasn’t minding it with Suga pressed so close to him, gently swaying along with him.

“You have your wallet with you, right?” Suga asked, as if he had been suddenly reminded of it.

“No,” Oikawa twisted his torso so he could see Suga, letting go of one on his hands. “I left it in my bag, only taking the free tickets. Why?”

Suga sighed and loosened his hold around Oikawa as he leaned back a little. “I left my wallet in my room.”

“Are you telling me that we have to go in to go out?”

“Yes.”

Oikawa sighed as well. “I guess you better go in then.”

Suga narrowed his eyes. “I think you should go.”

“I can’t.” Oikawa refused with a vehement shake of his head. “I really can’t. If I see Iwa-chan grinding on Daichi, or the other way around, I’ll lose my mind, and if I see either of them in any state of undress, I’ll go blind. Is that what you want?” He was exaggerating, because he was him, and really didn’t want to see his best friend get it on in their living room.

Suga looked deep in thought, his lips pursed in concentration. “How about,” he started slowly and flicked his eyes to look at Oikawa, “we both go? And we’ll make enough noise for the lovebirds inside to spring apart.”

Oikawa was about to refuse again, but his resolve was practically made of the flimsiest spider’s web when he was faced with Suga’s pout.

“Please?”

Oikawa held for about a second or two before he sighed in defeat. “Fine.” He pushed himself up from the steps with a groan, as if he was doing the most bothersome chore in the world, and pulled Suga up by his hand. “But you’re going in first.”

“Sometimes I forget how much of a baby you can be.” Suga’s smile was impish again. “You need to be protected from all kinds of sin so it won’t corrupt your non-existent innocence. First the hand holding in the movies and now this.”

“You’re the one who brought up the hand holding at the movies.” Oikawa pointed out, waiting by the door for Suga to open it. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have enjoyed holding my hand.”

“I probably would,” Suga admitted quietly, almost completely in thought as he opened the door.

Oikawa dropped his chin to his chest to hide his pleased smile because Suga _wanted to hold his hand._

The conversation in the living room was soft, barely audible to Suga and Oikawa. Either the occupants of the couch had already finished what they started, i.e. make up sex, or Oikawa and Suga had exaggerated the meaning of the moans they had heard.

Oikawa chanced a look towards the living room.

 Iwaizumi was talking to Daichi, looking up at him. Both of them were more or less clothed, still oblivious to the fact that they weren’t alone in the apartment anymore.

Until Suga cleared his throat and got their attention. “Are we interrupting something?” he asked playfully as he took his shoes off.

“Um, no.” Daichi answered a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck, falling from Iwaizumi’s lap to sit next to him on the couch.

Oikawa averted his eyes when he noticed how Iwaizumi tried to swiftly button up his jeans and Daichi pulled his shirt back on. “Do we need to have the couch washed and cleaned?” he asked with a smirk when he assumed it was safe to look at them again, after Suga had already disappeared down the hallway to his bedroom.

Daichi had the decency to look a little embarrassed, but Iwaizumi was impenetrable to shame. “No,” he answered simply. “But you should know that I hate you for manipulating us to talk and make up.”

Oikawa grinned. “You’re welcome,” he said as smugly as he could, trying on purpose to be as obnoxious about it as he could, just to rile up Iwaizumi – it was his favorite hobby after all. He could see how Iwaizumi wanted to rise to it, but didn’t get a chance to do so before Suga came back.

“You can continue what you were doing, we’re not staying.” Suga said in passing as he whirled past the couch.

“Where are you going?” Daichi asked curiously, the earlier embarrassed blush receding a little.

“Out to eat.”

A small crease appeared between Daichi’s eyebrows. “Like a date?” He asked slowly, looking between Suga and Oikawa.

“No, not like a date.” Oikawa let out an exasperated and given up sigh.

“It’s a not-a-date –date.” Suga provided the answer.

“A what?” Daichi and Iwaizumi asked at the same time, at the same level of incredulity that they had heard them right.

“Let’s just go.” Oikawa urged Suga to put on his shoes instead of answering the question. “I’m really hungry now.” His statement was reinforced by his loudly growling stomach.

Suga looked up at him from his half-grouch with an amused grin. “Do you have the Sasquatch there?”

Oikawa let out a short chuckle.

“That reminds me,” Suga straightened up and turned once more towards Daichi and Iwaizumi. “Do we need to get Kumamon into therapy for witnessing something explicit that turned his innocence into less than?”

Oikawa wasn’t mad at them for having sex on their couch anymore after he saw how their eyes bulged.

“Um...” Daichi scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze to the floor when the earlier blush creeped back, while Iwaizumi dropped his face into his hands in a _very_ dramatic fashion.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Suga decided and shared one of his many mischievous smiles with Oikawa, whose stomach growled again, making Suga laugh.

“Let’s go before the monster in your stomach starts demanding sacrifice to appease it,” he said and pushed Oikawa towards the front door that was about an inch from his back. “I am not a willing offering.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Oikawa laughed along with him and reached behind to open the door. 

“Remember to behave,” Suga called over his shoulder cheerily before he closed the door after them.

“I’m glad they made up.” Oikawa stated conversationally, starting to descent the stairs for the third time that day – which meant that he’d have to climb them up for the third time as well. He could hear Suga’s footsteps right behind him.

“Me too,” Suga agreed with him in a fond tone. “But I’m still going to ask for them to finance the therapy for Kumamon. It’s their fault our baby isn’t innocent anymore,” he added seriously.

Oikawa laughed the whole way down to the building’s front door. There might’ve been a very big and a very important reason why he was feeling so easily giddy that evening, why he was laughing so freely about everything, but that story was for another day. And it had nothing to do with Suga.

"By the way," Suga started and Oikawa focused on listening. "About Ukai's offer. I think you should at least go to the interview."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I hear frustrated screaming? Hair pulling? The desire to just shake someone?  
> Love you all <3 
> 
> Okay, a couple of things about this chapter:  
> 1\. I was listening to twice when I wrote the fight between Daichi and Iwaizumi. Interpret is as you wish. 
> 
> ... Okay, that's all :)
> 
>  
> 
> to be continued:  
> Suga finds out something important  
> Oikawa struggles with his sexual frustration  
> (I'm already cracking up about it because I can't believe what I've written for the next chapter)  
> Here's a little preview: 
> 
> Suga slapped Oikawa's ass in quick little taps, as if it was bongo drum.  
> "Suga!" Oikawa laughed, smushing his face into the pillow to muffle the sound, to smother himself and welcome the inevitable death that was approaching faster and faster, like the bullet train to run him over, with every lovely second he was spending with Suga.  
> "What?" Suga asked innocently, still lightly tapping away on Oikawa's ass and humming along like he was having the time of his life.


	34. Chapter 34

 

 

”I’m too tired to walk, Suga-chan.” Oikawa whined, forcefully dragging his feet through the dark but lit streets on their way home. “I want to lay down here and do nothing ever again.” He wasn’t actually considering lying down on the cold and hard ground, but it was something to say so he wouldn’t think about how much the night had seemed like a date with Suga. Because that’s exactly what it had felt like – the fun, the banter, the soft looks and small gestures that had been passed over, and under, the table. It had been fleeting touches of hands and lingering looks and small and almost bashful smiles.

All the loveliness of the evening, of his time spent with Suga, had turned Oikawa into putty and he was almost incapable of moving his legs forward, unwilling to go home because that meant the end of their not-a-date –date.

“You just feel like that because you’re full of food. It’ll pass.” Suga comforted, patting his arm affectionately.

“No, it won’t. I’m going to perish here if you make me walk any longer.” Oikawa acted as if he was truly troubled, a hand thrown on his forehead in a dramatic fashion.

“Don’t perish, I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Suga lamented, as if he had just stepped out of a J-drama, acting as ridiculous and over the top as Oikawa was.

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s seriousness, that he knew was done playfully, and he loved Suga just a little bit more for going the extra mile to try and make him laugh.

“But it has been a long day. We’ll be home soon.” Suga comforted him patiently as he stepped behind Oikawa for a moment to let a group of giggling teenagers pass.

And Suga was right. It had been a long day. The very fact that Oikawa hadn’t spent any time at home that day was a good testament of the tirelessness of the day, and so was everything else that had happened – most noticeably the new number in his phone the cause of the excitement he could feel fizzling somewhere deep within him.

“Do you want me to carry you, Tooru?” Suga asked when he was once again walking beside Oikawa.

Oikawa didn’t even need to look at Suga to know from his tone that he would be smiling his unrelentingly adorable smile. But Suga’s words, specifically the use of his name, made Oikawa glance at Suga, his mind already jumped onto another thread altogether, his heavy and jelly-filled legs momentarily forgotten. 

“Mm, I like that you call me that,” he said in a low voice with a note of allure that slipped in on accident.

“What?” Suga sounded almost confused for a second and Oikawa would’ve worried that his flirting had been too much, but it was gone in a flash, before the worry could even become a proper thought to think through. “You like it when I call you by your name?”

“Yes,” Oikawa sighed happily and leaned heavily on Suga’s side, his arm draped around Suga’s shoulders. “I like how it sounds when you say it.”

“I should probably go back to calling you “Oikawa” then,” Suga mused out loud.

“No, not back to Oikawa. I’ll die if you go back to Oikawa.” He whined, coming out as extra as he could for Suga’s entertainment, knowing that Suga hadn’t been completely serious.

He’d have to admit that his efforts to appear as over the top as possible worked like a charm, since Suga laughed, the sound of it always as beautiful to Oikawa. “I can’t believe we’ve come so far that you’ve become addicted to me calling you ‘Tooru’.”

“I know,” Oikawa agreed – although he was quite sure he wasn’t addicted to it, just got the wonderful tingles that traveled along his spine whenever he heard Suga call him ‘Tooru’ – and reflected back the months since they had met, wrapping his arm around Suga’s shoulders more securely, straightening himself so he wasn’t leaning as much on Suga anymore. “I was ‘Oikawa-san’ for a long time, and then I was just ‘Oikawa’ and then –“ Oikawa paused for dramatic effect. “Then I became Tooru,” he finished with an over the top happy sigh.

“I’m glad you’re happy how things have turned out.” Suga said, wrapping his arm around Oikawa’s back. “But I’m equally as glad that I’m just ‘Suga’.”

“Oh.” Oikawa looked at Suga curiously. “You don’t want me to call you ‘Koushi’?”

Suga frowned. “I don’t think we’ve reached that familiarity with each other yet.”

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s response.

“Maybe in ten years or so,” Suga continued with a considering head tilt, his tone suggesting that he wasn’t completely serious.

“Nope,” Oikawa refused with a shake of his head. “I’m going to call you ‘Koushi’ from now on,” he said with a grin. “Koushi.”

“No!” Suga was quick to try and muffle Oikawa’s speaking with a hand in front of his mouth. “You sounded like my mom when you said it.”

Oikawa was laughing against Suga’s efforts of muffling him, and they ended up going around in circles, the amused and bemused and somewhat annoyed glances shot at them for playing around in middle of the street ignored in favor of their own fun.

“Koushi.” Oikawa tried to sound as much like Akiko as possible, and Suga let out a cry. “Koushi.”

“No! Stop! You’re ruining it!”

Oikawa kept laughing, running away from Suga and singing ‘Koushi’ over and over again while Suga chased after him. Maybe it was the effort of laughing that slowed Oikawa down, or maybe he did it subconsciously so Suga could catch up to him. But when Suga did, he almost crashed into Oikawa’s back, and his arms snaked around his waist quickly so he couldn’t run away again.

“Why can’t I say your name?” Oikawa asked laughing. He loved how he could feel Suga’s laughter against him, how he could hear it right next to his ear. He loved how Suga was holding onto him, keeping his arms tight around him.

“Because you say it like my mom does,” Suga answered, laughing as well. “You can say it if you promise not to sound like her.”

“Koushi,” Oikawa tried it out immediately, intentionally lowering his voice to sound nothing like Suga’s mother, and also to not sound like himself. That, he wanted to save for another time.

Suga laughed when he heard the low voice. “You sound like a supervillain’s boss.”

“Good, that’s what I was going for.”

Suga kept laughing and Oikawa was quite sure he was falling even deeper in love for him. He took Suga’s hands, which were lightly placed on his waist, into his and wrapped his arms around himself in the process as well, and continued to walk towards their home with Suga securely pressed against his back.

“Ugh, shouldn’t have run just now.” Suga commented from behind him after a few steps.

Oikawa squeezed his hands as a signal that he had acknowledged Suga’s words. “Why is that? Tired now, all of a sudden?” he teased.

“No, full of food.” Suga groaned and pressed his face against Oikawa’s shoulder. “Bad idea to run with a full stomach.”

Oikawa chuckled sympathetically. “We’ll be home soon.” He tried to comfort Suga, and noticed the way a couple of girls passing them smiled at them, at the way they were walking, at the way they looked close and more than just friends, and he smiled politely back. “Besides, you’re not the one who cried because of spoonful of wasabi.”

“Again, I’m sorry about that.” Suga lifted his head up to say sincerely and Oikawa believed him. “I honestly didn’t think that you’d actually go for it.”

“Well I did, and I’m paying it for the rest of my life. I probably won’t be able to taste anything ever again.”

“You will, don’t worry.” Suga said softly, the weight of his chin settling on Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa would have to admit, quite happily too, that it fit well there – maybe his shoulder really was on the perfect height for Suga rest his chin, or head, there.

“You’d need to eat two spoons of wasabi to deaden your taste buds.”

“Oh? Is that a scientifically proven fact?” Oikawa glanced at Suga from the corner of his eye.

“No, it’s a Bokuto proven fact.”

“What?” Oikawa asked with a sudden chuckle of surprise, looking ahead again so they didn’t bump into anyone, or a streetlamp. That would be too embarrassing – but admittedly hilarious too, Oikawa thought, knowing it would cause them to laugh about it, and to think back to it just to laugh again. He would love to spend the rest of his days laughing with Suga, who was still holding onto him, as tightly as ever, and Oikawa didn’t want to be home so soon, too soon.

“He ate two spoons of wasabi and claimed that he couldn’t taste a thing for a month. He was probably exaggerating, but it’s possible.”

Oikawa kept chuckling as they turned onto a familiar street, too few steps away from their apartment building, and he slowed his walking to a snail’s pace. “You know, our friends are a bit stupid sometimes.”

“I’m still fond of them.” Suga’s tone was soft and Oikawa wanted to agree with him.

“Me too,” he said as softly and then grinned mischievously. “Koushi.”

“Oh my god!” Suga let out in a frustrated chuckle and unwrapped his arms to slap Oikawa’s arm before he managed to skip away. “I told you not to say it like that.”

Oikawa laughed happily, two skipping steps and an arm’s reach away. “But it’s fun,” he defended when he stopped by the building’s front door without any intention of going inside any time soon. He didn’t want their ‘date’ end. Ever.

“I’m never calling you ‘Tooru’ again.” Suga said seriously as he caught up with him, walking in a more leisurely pace and hands stuffed into his coat’s pockets, but his expression betrayed him and Oikawa grinned when he noticed the barely contained smile.

“Then I’ll only call you ‘Koushi’.”

“I hate you.” Suga had zero inflection in his voice and Oikawa knew that he didn’t mean the words.

“You love me,” he countered with a happy chuckle and reached out to grab onto Suga’s sleeve and bring him closer quicker. “You’re not denying it,” he pointed out when Suga came willingly and stopped only when Oikawa ceased with the pulling when their toes were almost touching.

“I’m trying to come up with a comeback.” Suga said with a soft smile that Oikawa loved and it made him want to call off the bickering, as much as he had enjoyed it.

“Truce?” he asked gently, still holding onto Suga’s sleeve, shaking his arm a little. “I won’t call you Koushi if you keep calling me Tooru.”

He could see how Suga was considering his offer for the two seconds of silence between them before his phone rang. With a disappointed sigh he dropped his hold on Suga and pulled his phone out to see who was calling him, if it was someone he could ignore, or someone whose ear he could rip off for disrupting them. He also vowed to keep his phone on silent mode as well as airplane mode forevermore, just so they wouldn’t be disturbed by ringing phones ever again.

“Is it Iwaizumi? Telling us not to come home yet?” Suga inquired when he moved to stand next to him and took a look at the screen and the caller ID.

“No, it’s my advisor.” Oikawa knew he couldn’t rip off his advisor’s ears off, or ignore him since he knew why he was calling.

“He’s calling this late?” Suga asked with a worried frown, his eyebrows tilted up in the middle. “Is that normal?”

“It’s probably about my dissertation.” Oikawa replied, his thumb hovering to swipe to answer. “I should probably take it.”

“Okay,” Suga agreed with a nod and a small smile. “See you upstairs?”

Oikawa nodded in agreement. He was eternally grateful that Suga had decided to let him talk alone and in relative peace – as much peace as anyone could have outside at that time of the evening and with people continuously passing by him – and answered the call, the sound of the heavy front door closing faintly registering to him just as his advisor introduced the reason for the call.

But at the same time, as he listened to the very good news, he was disappointed that his absolutely wonderful time with Suga had been interrupted. He hadn’t been ready to end their ‘date’ yet. Not like this, separated outside their building, by the front door. Well, they could always spend more time together later. There was time, Oikawa thought with a small smile that had nothing to do with the shower of praise on the other end of the call.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga let the heavy door fall shut with a dull thud, regretting that their fun evening had come to an end. He had enjoyed himself immensely, had loved the ‘date’ which was a not-a-date-date with Oikawa. But he knew that Oikawa wanted to talk in peace, without an extra pair of ears to listen in on the conversation. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he just _knew_ it. Call it intuition, or maybe just the fact that he had lived with Oikawa, someone who didn’t hide any part or aspect of him, for six months by now. He liked to think that he had gotten to know Oikawa pretty well by now – which could definitely be a contributing factor on the ugly crush that had developed into something much more, blown up into a fond affection that stemmed some thoughts and dreams that would definitely be censored from a Ghibli movie.

He wanted nothing more than be with Oikawa. But it wasn’t the time yet – he had a plan and according to the plan, it wasn’t the time yet. There were times when he wondered if the plan was really necessary, tried to talk himself into considering the possibility of abandoning it.

 _Another day to wait,_ Suga thought as he climbed the last steps. He couldn’t believe how hard it had been to hold himself back at the restaurant whenever he noticed his or Oikawa’s hand to linger on the other’s arm or had caught himself daydreaming how the night could end in a kiss if it was a real date. It was too easy to fall into the comfortability with Oikawa, not just inside their apartment when it was just the two of them, but outside as well. It was easy to be himself around and with Oikawa. It was easy to forget any society bound rules on how friends should or shouldn’t touch each other, look at each other or hold onto each other.

“You’re here to make sure you win the bet.”

Suga was stopped by the words quite literally with his feet on each side of the threshold, the door held open with his hand. He didn’t like hearing that there was another ‘bet’ going on, no matter what it was about. But, nonetheless, he was intrigued by Hanamaki’s statement.

 _What bet?_ He wondered. He knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop like this. But when his mother was who she was, he didn’t really have any chance against his upbringing and the influences he was subjected to when he was growing up, developing his personality and its qualities.

“I’ve already lost and I haven’t put in another bet. Just ask Asahi if you don’t believe me.” That was Iwaizumi’s unmistakable voice, the uninterested laziness of it whenever he was bored by the topic.

“Maybe I should.” Hanamaki crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Any one of us could pay the next month’s rent with the amount of money in the pot already.”

 _Maybe I should too,_ Suga silently agreed with him, worried that so much money had been invested by everyone on a bet he didn’t know anything about. He was so transfixed on the out of context conversation, since he hadn’t heard of any bets, that he forgot for a moment where he was and stepped fully inside the apartment and negligently let the front door close with a very audible thud. Everyone’s heads whipped towards him.

“Oh, hey Suga,” Hanamaki said from his lone spot on the couch, adjacent to the one Iwaizumi and Daichi were occupying. His voice was a bit too cheery, as if he was trying to cover that they were talking about something that Suga had a vague feeling they didn’t want him to hear about. Suga’s skin was crawling with the uncomfortable feeling that something was going on that he wouldn’t like one bit.  

“Hey, guys,” he greeted with a small smile anyway just make sure that no one was the wiser about his suspicions. “Why are you here?” He meant the question more for Hanamaki and Matsukawa, even though his focus lingered on Daichi and Iwaizumi, who were practically snuggled together on the couch, their fight clearly cleared up. Suga was glad to see them so cozy – whatever they had fought about apparently worked through and in the past.

“Food,” Matsukawa answered from the kitchen, a brush in his hand scrubbing a plate in the sink.

“Right, of course.” Suga took off his shoes and walked closer to his friends and neighbors occupying the living room. “I don’t even know why I keep asking that whenever someone comes over,” he said with a smile that was fond despite his suspicions. He wondered what kind of answer he would get if he asked about the bet, if he would be lied to or if he would get a straight answer, or one without anything held back or left out.

“It’s your fault for keeping your kitchen stocked up with food.” Daichi made a light remark with a smile that was a bit too strenuous to be the effortless easy smile Daichi usually smiled with. Maybe he was wondering if Suga had overheard their conversation. And Daichi wondering about that didn’t help Suga to dispel the feeling that they were betting on something involving him.

“Well, if we all relied on the food everyone else keeps in their kitchen we’d die of malnutrition of only eating instant ramen for breakfast, lunch and dinner.” Suga kid back and stopped to stand by Kumamon. “And Kumamon would die of sadness that we all neglected to take proper care of ourselves and left him all alone in a world where innocence means nothing to horny twenty-something-year-olds.” He patted Kumamon’s head affectionately. He wasn’t mad at Daichi and Iwaizumi for having make up –sex on the couch, but it was fun to play the part.

Iwaizumi let out a snort. “I’ll have you know that that Kumamon is a lot shadier than you think. I mean, it came from Kuroo. How innocent could it be?” He was eyeing Kumamon as if it was the fishiest mafia boss in the world. “Plus, he has that look on him, like you can’t tell for sure that his thoughts aren’t sinister and full of malicious deeds he wants to do to us.”

Suga let out a scandalized gasp and covered Kumamon’s ears. “Don’t you dare. He’s been placed into a witness protection system and proper care of two loving adults after the horrifying and scarring experience of being stuffed into a box for months. And who knows how long he had to live with Kuroo before that.”

Daichi laughed at that and got up from the couch, leaving Iwaizumi to sit alone. “You’re really something else, Suga.” He said, chuckling along a little as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Yes, it’s fun to be me,” Suga agreed with him. “And expensive,” he added when he took stock of the dishes and food on the kitchen counters. “Did you eat all the fried chicken that was leftover from me and Tooru?” He directed the question to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, who were wearing matching grins from the banter they had witnessed, and missed the surprised but knowing glance Daichi and Iwaizumi shared behind him when they heard ‘Tooru’.

“And the mochi’s.” Hanamaki confirmed without shame and with so much pride that Suga couldn’t but shake his head in fond exasperation. “Thank you, though. They were delicious.” Hanamaki continued sincerely and Suga really couldn’t be mad at them for eating his food, not when he heard the front door open and close and he turned to see Oikawa – his feelings and thoughts once again ruled by his affection towards the man and shading everything as if he was looking at the world through rose colored glasses.

“Oh good, we have visitors.” Oikawa commented dryly but with a slight grin as he took off his coat and kicked off his shoes.

“You love us!” Matsukawa shouted immediately from the sink, elbow-deep in the soapy water.

“That’s debatable,” Oikawa said with a grin, stepping into the living room as well and stopping to hover next to the armchair, as if he was undecided whether to sit down or not. “How’d you end up doing the dishes? You hate that. ”

“I’m not loving Makki at the moment,” was Matsukawa’s mysterious answer, said in a low voice and with a pout that was in stark contrast with the grin on Hanamaki’s face. It softened into a small smile though, as he made his way to Matsukawa.

“He lost a bet,” Daichi provided the answer, closing the fridge empty handed and making his way to the tall cupboard. Suga could just about hear Hanamaki ask Matsukawa if he wanted help with the dishes, and Matsukawa’s just as soft reply that he could do them just fine on his own, that he wasn’t mad.

 _Another bet?_ Suga thought then, certain that his friends were out of control with their bets and how much they were doing it and losing money on them. But his worry about his friends’ somewhat reckless behavior was overruled when he turned away from Matsukawa and Hanamaki to give them a ‘moment’ and took in the self-satisfied barely-there-smirk on Oikawa’s face.

Suga moved to sit on the couch’s armrest, by Kumamon, and focused solely on Oikawa. “Is everything okay with school?” He meant the call Oikawa had gotten from his advisor.

“Yes,” Oikawa smiled charmingly, seemingly trying to dispel any and all doubt and worry, and then introduced another topic before Suga could pry further into the late phone call. “By the way, did you guys hear about the contest this morning?”

“What contest?” Daichi asked, his voice muffled with his head, and half of his upper body, deep inside their cupboard.

“They held a contest about who has the best abs,” Matsukawa answered, the soft clinking of dishes accompanying his words.

“And we weren’t invited to judge.” Hanamaki added, busy with towel-drying the washed and rinsed dishes.

Oikawa snickered before he turned serious and raised his chin a little higher, appearing as cocky as anyone could. “I won, of course.”

“Good, then I don’t feel bad about missing the contest.” Iwaizumi commented.

“I’d pretend to be offended, but then you’d just hit me.” Oikawa said and purposefully turned his whole body to face away from Iwaizumi.

“Just taking off your shirt to impress Suga doesn’t mean you won the contest.” Hanamaki pointed out as he took a break from drying the dishes.

Suga turned to see his expression, how serious he was with his comment, and then to Oikawa in confusion. Why would Oikawa try and impress him?

“I think I impressed everyone.” Oikawa crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively, which confused Suga even more. Why was Oikawa being defensive? Everyone and their distant cousin and their alien friend knew how much Oikawa could love himself. There was nothing new with that.

Suga studied Oikawa, the light banter between Oikawa and Hanamaki continued in the distance as his thoughts wandered elsewhere – to the morning to be precise. His eyes were fixed in middle of Oikawa’s chest, seeing and unseeing the sight that he had been careful to memorize down to the last and the smallest detail. He knew Oikawa still worked out now and then, but he had no idea of the effect his workout had, and it truly was a sight to behold – every muscle defined and lean and... Suga wanted to feel Oikawa’s skin under his hand, to feel the muscles, unyielding and strong, shifting with every move.

“Suga?”

He was brought back from his reverie, and beautiful daydreams, by Daichi’s voice.

“Are you still with us?” There was a note of concern in Daichi’s amused tone and Suga metaphorically shook his head to get his thoughts back on track, blinking in an effort to move his eyes away from Oikawa’s chest and the starry sky print on his shirt. “What were you thinking about so hard?”

“Just contemplating life and how bad decisions could play out,” he replied, tearing his eyes away from Oikawa and to look at his concerned best friend. He didn’t even want to see Oikawa’s expression, to know if Oikawa had caught him looking at him so intensely. 

There was quick furrow on Daichi’s brow, as if he wasn’t following what he meant, and Suga was quite okay with that. “Anyway, it’s getting kind of late, I think I’ll go to sleep.” He made the excuse hastily as he got up and was already moving towards his bedroom before anyone had registered he said anything. He kind of needed, and wanted, to be alone with his thoughts on Oikawa’s bare chest right that minute.

“Night, Suga,” was called after him, in various phrasings, before he closed his door and was soon in his bed with his suddenly appeared lust-filled thoughts on Oikawa.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa was looking after Suga’s furthering back, with his arms still crossed in front of his chest, but not as defensively anymore – more satisfied, and accompanied by his smirk. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to spend more time with Suga when they got home, but he was still disappointed to find out he had been right.

He took refuge from his disappointment thinking about the way Suga had been studying him, how his eyes had traveled lower to his chest. He had wondered what Suga had been thinking about so intently, and smirked when he speculated if Suga had been thinking about him shirtless.

Hanamaki had been right when he had pointed out that Oikawa had taken off his shirt just to impress Suga, because he knew that he was still in good shape and that it showed on his body. But he didn’t appreciate being called out on it, and not in front of Suga.

Oikawa was still standing in the middle of the space between the kitchen and the living room, hovering by the armchair, and as soon as they all heard the soft sound of Suga’s room door closing, Hanamaki rushed to him. “You need to tell him _now,”_ he urgently whispered to Oikawa.

Oikawa raised his eyebrows with a question and surprise.

“You have to resolve that sexual tension.”

“Okay?” Oikawa said patiently.

“The way you two looked, just _looked,_ at each other gave _me_ a boner. I don’t even want to think how that was for Suga, who’s probably suffering from the lack of sex, as we’ve all heard, and the stress of his exhibit that’s less than two days away.”

Oikawa smirked, but it didn’t have his usual cockiness in it. “I’m aware.”

It wasn’t just Suga who was affected by the electricity that crackled between them. Oikawa wasn’t faring much better, and he almost wished to be alone in his bedroom like Suga was. Or with Suga, but that seemed much less likely and like a bad decision when he hadn’t even confessed yet. And he didn’t exactly want to jump into bed, or do any other form of having sex with Suga as the “happy ending” _right after_ his confession.

“But if you got a boner just from that,” Oikawa said in a measured voice, actively trying to keep his eyes on Hanamaki’s so they wouldn’t betray him and stray down to check if he really was sporting a semi, “Mattsun needs to give you more loving.” He said to Hanamaki in a form of payback for calling out his stripping in front of Suga.

“You know the rule, Oikawa,” Matsukawa spoke up, his attention on his task in the sink. “We don’t talk about our sex lives in this group.”

“If you’re not having satisfying sex because of your exhibitionist kink, I can come and watch if that gets you going and Makki to keep his thoughts to himself, but I don’t see that being anything but a scarring experience for me.”

Hanamaki crossed his arms and gave a hard glare to Oikawa. “Our sex is hot and you know it.”

“I’ve yet to be proven about that.”

“Are you actually trying to get yourself invited into having sex with them, or just watching it?” Daichi asked, confusion clear in his expression as he settled down on the couch next to Iwaizumi, holding a packet of cookies and already munching on one of them.

Oikawa dropped his attitude with a sigh, because he definitely wasn’t trying to do that, and went to sit in the armchair. “I try to avoid horrifying life experiences, so no, I’m not trying to get invited into a threesome with them.”

“And I repeat myself, our sex is hot.” Hanamaki said defensively, sounding offended that they were so quickly dismissed as viable sex partners.

“Prove it.” Oikawa shot back with a quick raise of his eyebrows.

“Seriously, it sounds like you’re fishing for a threesome.” Daichi repeated himself.

Matsukawa barked out a laugh, the sound of the water rushing down the drain filling the kitchen. “He wishes he was that lucky.”

Oikawa merely rolled his eyes as a response and let his thoughts return to Suga. A kind silence followed their back-and-forth when everyone settled in the living room, as it usually did with them as a result of their long friendship, until it was dispelled by Iwaizumi’s curious but soft voice.

“How was your date?”

Oikawa knew the question was meant for him from the way Iwaizumi was studying him, and was quick to dispute him. “Wasn’t a date, but it was fun.” He grinned, thinking about the way he had accidentally ended up playing footsy with Suga under the table – accidental, since he hadn’t meant to brush his foot against Suga’s, but Suga had brushed back and that had kept going under the table during the whole dinner. Not that Oikawa minded one bit. He didn’t mind the way Suga had stolen bites of his food now and then either. It was familiar and sweet and Oikawa loved every second of it, every gentle touch on his arm and every warm look shared between them. It might have also given him an idea or two that he had quickly pushed back, all the way to whatever place existed beyond the cosmos. And thinking about it now, none of this was helping him with his battle to keep the blood in his brain.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi inquired, like he didn’t believe Oikawa. “What did you end up doing?”

“We went for sushi.”

“Did you confess?” Iwaizumi kept interviewing, and Oikawa frowned, confused by the sudden and so carelessly voiced question. He shot a shift glance towards the hallway to make sure Suga hadn’t heard, to somehow cast a magical spell that would stop their voices from carrying down to Suga’s room.

“No,” he answered when he turned his gaze, glaring and hard gaze for being so reckless, back to Iwaizumi.

“Why?” Hanamaki suddenly whined towards the ceiling from his spot on the other couch, next to Matsukawa, his hands reaching out in plea for some form of mercy.

Oikawa eyed him suspiciously. “None of your business,” he said defensively, every guard within him up and ready to deflect anything and everything. He caught and filed away the way Matsukawa and Iwaizumi shared a look of exasperation before they looked away from each other as if the look hadn’t just been shared.

“You know what people usually do when they go on a date with the person they like?” Hanamaki asked then, leaning towards Oikawa as if he was parting wisdom. “They tell them.”

“Wasn’t a date.” Oikawa responded simply.

“You know what people do when they like someone?” Hanamaki asked again. “They tell that person.”

“Why are you so invested in this now?” Oikawa asked, the suspicion of what was going on filling every cell in his body. “I get that you want me to tell Suga, but what’s your hurry?”

“Because you’re wasting time.” Matsukawa jumped in when Hanamaki looked more and more likely to tear his hair out due to frustration. “Suga’s exhibit is just around the corner. You’re going to graduate soon. No one knows what might happen so you need to lock that shit down now, before it’s too late.”

Oikawa looked from one person to the next. One of them, Daichi, had just told him to wait until after Suga’s exhibit, and now Hanamaki was practically telling him to find Suga right that minute and tell him. It was confusing, as if no one could agree on when Oikawa should confess, but were very eager to tell him to do it soon.

“Explain to me again why you’re all so invested in this.”

“We care about your happiness. That’s why.” Iwaizumi said, his tone suggesting that he was merely discussing the weather.

But Oikawa couldn’t fault his friends for thinking about his happiness, looking after his well-being.

“I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“I think you’ve been ready for quite some time already.” Daichi wasn’t even looking at Oikawa as he spoke, brushing nonexistent lint off of Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”

“Didn’t you just advise me a couple of hours ago to wait until Suga’s exhibit?”

“I did.” Daichi nodded and turned his steady gaze to look at Oikawa. “But I’m still genuinely asking what’s holding you back.”

What _was_ holding him back?

Oikawa wasn’t so sure anymore. Suga had just told him that he would like to go on a date with him. Suga obviously liked him, like many of his friends had already pointed out. So, what was it that made him tongue-tied when it came to revealing his affectionate feelings towards Suga?

Was it just the fear that there was the slightest chance that he had read and interpreted every sign and word and gesture wrong? Or was it something so profound that he actually was afraid of the chance that he could be happy with someone, just for it to be ripped away from him?

Oikawa hung his head back against the back of the armchair, thinking about Daichi’s question and the reasons for his refusal to admit his feelings to Suga.

Maybe he was just waiting for Suga to say it first, maybe then it wouldn’t be so scary to admit.

“You don’t have to tell him now, if you feel that you’re not ready.” Matsukawa said slowly, softly, sounding very considerate. “Maybe your reluctance to tell Suga is a sign that you’re not ready for whatever you could have with him.”

Oikawa smiled a little, grateful for Matsukawa’s words and the comfort they provided in middle of all of the confusion he was getting from everyone else.

“But, I have to say, and I know you’ve probably heard this a thousand times already, but Suga isn’t going to stay single forever. You really should grab the chance when you have it. Before anyone else does.”

Oikawa sighed and let his head loll to the side. He knew Matsukawa was right, as were everyone else who had reasoned with him using the same words.

“I don’t want you to end up heartbroken just because you didn’t act when you had the chance.”

“None of us wants that,” Hanamaki echoed Matsukawa’s statement.

“Thanks,” Oikawa smiled wholeheartedly, truly and endlessly grateful for his friends, for having their support.

That night, as he went to bed after everyone had left, his thoughts were on Suga. Even after everything he had already been through that day – the job offer, the ‘date’ with Suga, the call from his advisor. He barely had the mind with him not to go into Suga’s room and fall asleep next to him, as much as he wanted to so.

His want to hold onto Suga wasn’t helped by Hanamaki’s last advice before they left, that the sooner he confessed to Suga, the sooner they could be together.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

The next morning, after his shower and his usual two cups of coffee he needed to function properly drank in silence and solitude in the empty kitchen, Oikawa settled to sit down by the desk in his room and opened his laptop, for no particular reason. Because by this point, it was just muscle memory, something he always used to do when he woke up or came home.

But now...

There was nothing for him to do.

“Hey.” Suga’s voice was soft and Oikawa looked up towards his door as Suga was already making his way closer. “How’s it going?” Suga pulled lightly on his ponytail and Oikawa chuckled.

“It’s going.” He glanced over his shoulder to see Suga standing slightly behind him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, a bit bored.” Suga replied and Oikawa turned back to his laptop, mindlessly scrolling up and down on the open document. “I’m surprised that you have a ponytail.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed at the random comment. “Surprised? I thought you liked me in a ponytail.”

“I kind of do,” Suga admitted in a soft tone. Oikawa could feel Suga play with the ends of his hair at the pony. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you with one. Where did you get the hair tie? It looks familiar.” Suga’s voice grew suspicious as he kept speaking and Oikawa grinned.

“I believe the origin of the hair tie was Trolls’ intestines.”

“You went through my stuff?” Suga asked, zero hint of anger or annoyance in his voice. He sounded more curious than ready to bite Oikawa’s head off.

“Does it count as going through your stuff when I found it by the bathroom sink?” Oikawa looked at Suga. He had found the hair tie there that morning, and had thought back to Suga’s words about luck and not losing stuff anymore before he slipped it on his wrist. He shot a shift glance at Suga’s wrist and found Suga wearing a neon green hair tie on his wrist, instead of the hot pink that was there just the other day and was now holding Oikawa’s hair in a ponytail. He assumed Suga had left the hair tie in the bathroom, and then slipped another one on his wrist when he realized he had forgotten the previous one somewhere.

“How come your hair is in a ponytail, though?” Suga’s voice still held the curious note in it. “I hope it’s not just because I kind of like seeing you with one.”

“You do?” Oikawa teased Suga, even though that fact had already been established, trying to sound surprised about it.

Suga’s tone was patient when he replied. “It doesn’t matter if I do or don’t. What matters is that you’re you the way that you’re comfortable with.”

The thought warmed Oikawa, soft tendrils of fondness slithering from Suga to wrap around Oikawa’s heart, as if his heart wasn’t already softly caressed by the many vines surrounding it, grown there by every sweet deed and word Suga had done or said.  

Oikawa cleared his throat before he spoke again, scratching his arm. “It’s actually convenient right now. My hair’s really grown too long. I really should get it cut.” He said the words but didn’t have any inclination within himself to actually do so. If he was completely honest, he kind of liked the ponytail too. He had caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier. It gave him a certain edge he liked and found interesting.

“Maybe once you’re done with your dissertation you have the time to get it cut.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Oikawa nodded along, still not planning on going anywhere near anyone with scissors. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the laptop next to the keyboard.

“Oh, am I distracting you from it?” Suga sounded like he had just realized it.

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder again to look at Suga. It would be easier for them to conduct their conversation if Suga wasn’t standing behind him, but Oikawa kind of liked it too. He liked how Suga had access to his hair that his fingers were still playing with.  

“Nope,” he answered Suga’s question grinning, as he stopped scrolling. He was excited to tell Suga and he gave it away with his voice. “Because I’m done.”

“It’s ready?” Suga’s eyes were wide but overflowing with something Oikawa couldn’t describe but felt as something positive. Especially with the way Suga was suddenly hugging him from behind – Suga’s cheek resting against his head and arms securely wrapped around his shoulders.

“Well, my advisor is still looking through it, since I kept changing it a lot, and then I have to get it to the review board and then I’ll have to debate it, but yeah, I’m done.” Oikawa rambled, soaking in the warmth of Suga’s body pressed against his in such a familiar but at the same time new and exciting way. “It’s ready,” he added after a content sigh, finally letting the realization sink into him. As of yesterday, he was... Done. It had been finished. He was strangely relieved and yet excited and anxious if it would be enough, if he could actually debate it.

Suga let go of him and stepped to the side to look at him. “I’m so proud of you,” he said with a smile, his hand left lingering on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“Me too,” Oikawa admitted softly. There had been times when he had doubted if he’d ever finish the thing, if he’d even manage to start. But here he was now, the finished work open on the laptop screen. All thanks to the person standing next to him. Looking at him with such soft tenderness that could’ve felt heavy but didn’t with the accompanying smile.

Oikawa finally recognized the look, the same Suga had had earlier in his eyes, as proudness and elation – just what positive support should look and feel like. He wanted to fill every inch of empty space inside him with the soft, warm and caring feel. He never wanted it to go away.

He dropped his gaze to his hand as he started to play with the hem of Suga’s shirt. It had become a habit to him a while ago – he had only yesterday recognized it as a habit he had developed when he did so at the restaurant as well. He only did it whenever he wanted to hold onto Suga, but was afraid to really do so. It was a way to keep in contact with Suga, an innocent way that maybe, possibly, gave the intention away.

“You do that a lot.” Suga said quietly, his tone fitting the easy and comfortable feel around them, and lightly tapped Oikawa’s hand with his finger.

Oikawa looked up with a grin that he hid behind. “A nervous habit.” He saw Suga’s eyed drop to his hand and then back to his eyes, seemingly believing the quick fib.

“You should call my mom.”

“What? Why?” Oikawa was confused by Suga’s suggestion. It had come quite literally out of nowhere, at least from another universe that didn’t fit into the current atmosphere in his bedroom. “Because of my nervous habit?”

“No,” Suga chuckled as he said it. “Call her and tell her what you just told me.”

Oikawa let go of Suga’s shirt, reluctantly of course, and reached across his desk for his phone. “Do you want to be here for that?” he asked with an arched eyebrow as he scrolled for Akiko’s number.

“No, I’ll give you privacy.” Suga smiled and left the room quickly after that.

Oikawa was a bit conflicted of Suga leaving right then. On one hand, he would’ve liked for Suga to remain next to him, but on the other, he was sure that his conversation with Akiko would somehow delve onto his feelings for Suga as well, and he didn’t want Suga to hear any of it. It was scary enough that Suga had already overheard his conversation with Iwaizumi that had prompted Suga to ask about it. Even last night, Oikawa had actively stopped now and then when he had been conversing with his friends to listen for the chance that Suga’s door might open.

“Hello?” Akiko answered his call after a handful of seconds, bringing Oikawa out of his thoughts with a start.

“Hey Akiko-san. It’s me.”

“Tooru!” Akiko sounded excited. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” Oikawa said with a smile and spun his chair around. “Am I calling at a bad time?”

“Not at all, darling.” Akiko let out a delighted giggle, like she was over the moon that he had called her and the thought warmed Oikawa. “What have you been up to?”

“Well,” Oikawa stopped to sigh, a small smile playing on his lips. “Suga just told me to call you.”

“Oh,” Akiko’s excitement changed instantly. “And why is that?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes at the tone of suggestive suspicion. He thought it was probably best to cut to the chase and just get out the reason for his call. Or else he would end up in a roundabout road of teasing about his feelings for Suga, again.

“I’ve finished my dissertation.”

There was a beat before Akiko said a word. “You‘re finished?” She sounded surprised. “Are you serious, honey?”

“I’m serious. It’s done.”

“That’s wonderful!” Akiko exclaimed so loudly, Oikawa had to pull the phone from his ear for a moment in fear of going deaf.

He chuckled though, pleased, so immensely pleased, by her reaction.

“I’m so proud of you.” Akiko added softly, her tone reminding Oikawa of the way Suga had said the same words just a minute ago.

“Well, it is a big thing I guess.” He absently scratched a corner of his laptop with his free hand.

“No, honey.” Akiko took a big breath. “I’m always proud of you. It’s important that you know that.”

A soft smile appeared on Oikawa’s lips. It was somewhat humbling to hear that she was proud, her very voice filled with it. “Thank you.”

His smile morphed into a tight line as he pressed his lips together to ward of the sudden welling of tears in his eyes as he let the thought of Akiko being proud of him sink in.

“But I’m especially proud of you today for finishing your dissertation.” Her heavy press on the words, every feeling laced into them seeped through the receiver and filled Oikawa with overwhelming emotions, coming to the surface from somewhere deep, emerging from beneath the layers of defenses he had piled on and on over the years. It had been such a long time that anyone had expressed their pride about him. “Thank you,” he managed to say without choking up and stood up to find Suga as quickly as possible. He needed a hug, and since Akiko wasn’t physically there, Suga must do.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga looked up from his laptop – which he had put down on the kitchen island before he went to look for Oikawa due to his boredom – when he heard the hurried but light footsteps, and saw a little distraught looking Oikawa emerge from the hallway, his phone clutched in his hand against his ear like it was a lifeline. He recognized the expression immediately – all of his friends had looked like that at least once, coming to him when his mother was being almost too much with her love and pride for them. He could imagine the proud gushing and praising Oikawa was listening.

“What’s up?” he whispered when Oikawa walked closer, and noticed the tears in his eyes.  

Oikawa didn’t answer, just switched the call on speakerphone and placed the phone on the island next to Suga’s laptop. When Suga heard his mother praise Oikawa, a soft understanding smile appeared on his lips and he pulled Oikawa into a warm and tight hug. He could feel the gratefulness from Oikawa to understand him without words from the way Oikawa wrapped his arm around him and pressed his face against the crook between his neck and shoulder.  

Oikawa held on tighter and tighter while Akiko kept talking, speaking of the first time she met him and how she instantly knew he was a good man, how she was proud of him, how she considered him one of her ‘boys’, and how she would always be there to support him, no matter what.

“Hey, mom?” Suga interrupted her softly, with some hesitation when Oikawa was practically squeezing the breath out of him.

“Koushi?”

“You’re saying a lot of wonderful things, but maybe take a pause for a minute or two? Oikawa’s heart can’t handle all the love you have for him.” Suga’s fingers pulled off the hair tie to card them through Oikawa’s hair in soft and slow strokes.

Akiko’s tone was softer than Suga had ever heard when she spoke. “Give him a hug.”

“I already am.”

“Good.”

A comforting silence filled the kitchen while Suga kept holding onto Oikawa – one of his hands softly caressing his hair and the other moving up and down his back in a comforting way.

“I’m sorry if that was too much for you, Tooru darling.” Akiko said after a short moment.

“It’s okay,” he responded with a barely-audible sniffle.

“Keep hugging Koushi, no matter what he says. It’ll make you feel better.”

Oikawa chuckled at that and let go off Suga, but didn’t step away. “I’m okay.” He grasped Suga’s shirt hem again.

Suga smiled at the nervous habit that he didn’t believe was actually a nervous habit at all, and wondered if Oikawa could tell that he liked the habit, that he liked how Oikawa’s fingers imperceptibly brushed on his skin. He wondered if Oikawa could notice the delicious shivers it gave to him.

“I know.” Akiko’s tone was still soft. “I hope you understand that you’re very dear and important to me. Love you, honey.”

Oikawa chuckled again. “Thank you.”

Akiko’s laughter rang through the phone and it lit Oikawa’s expression with delight. Suga knew he could swoon from looking at it for too long and dropped his gaze to the phone on the island.  

“And I love you too, Koushi.” Akiko added, as an after-thought of sorts.

Suga let out a soft snort. “Stop being weird, mom,” he replied and ended the call. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He took a steadying breath before he braved to turn his eyes back to Oikawa, and swiped a stray fallen tear from Oikawa’s cheek with his thumb.

“I’m good.” Oikawa reaffirmed. “That was just –“ He took a deep breath. “A lot.”

“She gets like that sometimes. When she’s proud, she won’t stop talking about it.”

“I believe you.”

“No.” Suga shook his head gravely. “You don’t know the half of it. Whenever she meets new people, or makes a new friend, she tells them all about us, us meaning everyone in this building and Daichi and Iwaizumi. She continuously talks about us to her friends. When I met one of the ladies she had befriended, she kept asking me about my brothers, and I was so confused until I realized that my mom spoke of ‘her boys’ all the time, and that the lady thought we were all her sons.”

Oikawa let out a wet chuckle, as if he couldn’t keep it in.

“The lady told me that she keeps talking about us all the time, always proud and sometimes exasperated for whatever reason or whatever is going on in our lives. When Kuroo was fired in December due to budget cuts, she offered to go and talk to his boss so he could keep his job.”

“What? Really?” Oikawa sounded like hadn’t heard of that, but he also sounded like he wasn’t all that surprised when he thought about it more.

“And when Kenma and Hinata moved into this building, she was like a mother hen, cooking for them, doing their laundry and what else. For six months, when she came to Tokyo every weekend, she was practically visiting them and not me. And when Akaashi broke up with me, she spent eight hours on the phone with him, all of it spent talking and gushing about Bokuto.”

Suga felt a light tug on his shirt before Oikawa asked, “How do you know that?”

“Akaashi can’t lie to save a life. He’s really bad at it.” Suga answered with a half-hearted shrug. He could still feel the last trails of bitter resentment when he had told his mother about the real reason they had broken up, and then later heard that she had immediately called Akaashi to talk about the new boyfriend.

“Oh.”

Suga wondered for a moment if Oikawa had heard the slight edge in his voice, but busied himself to think of more examples of how his mother took care of them. “Oh, and when Daichi and Iwaizumi moved in together, she informed them that she was already planning their wedding and expecting grandchildren.”

Oikawa scoffed in amusement, his eyes fixed on his hand that was still holding onto Suga’s shirt, his fingers gently brushing on Suga’s skin on accident. “They can’t get married here, or adopt any kids.”

“I know that,” Suga said patiently. “And so does she, but that doesn’t stop her.”

Oikawa laughed at that briefly, until another thought apparently came to him and he sobered to ask it. “How many guests?”

“Too many to count. It kind of freaked them out, though, and I had to talk to her to back off for a bit.”

Oikawa hummed in thought and Suga had a feeling he knew what Oikawa was thinking.  

“I don’t know if you noticed it about two years ago, but Daichi and Iwaizumi were kind of weird around each other, tense and jumpy.”

Oikawa nodded as a confirmation, that he could remember, that he had just been thinking about it.

“But that was because of my mom and her wedding plans.”

“I noticed, but I never knew what it was about. I just thought it was nerves about living with each other, seeing each other all the time.”

“No, it was my mom and her nosy behavior.”

Oikawa chuckled again, maybe at the given up tone Suga had used.

“The point I’m trying to make is that everyone calls her and tells her every bit of news they have about their life, because they know she’ll listen and support them. Whether it’s a new haircut, or a job, or a boyfriend, they tell her. Hell, Bokuto and Kuroo call her in turns to gossip with her.”

Oikawa laughed at that, his head tilted back a little. His expression wasn’t as heavy, and Suga could see the weight of Akiko’s proud words dispelling with every little thing he told Oikawa.

“Everyone tells her everything, because they know she’ll be there. They call her and talk to her when they need that extra push and boost in their lives, and she knows it and gives it.”

Oikawa kept fiddling with Suga’s shirt, tears welling in his eyes again.

“Not that many in our group talks about their parents, because their relationship with them isn’t the best, due to multiple different reasons, but one of them being that they don’t get the support and acceptance for who they are from them. But they get it tenfold from my mom, and that’s why they flock towards her. They get the support and acceptance they crave for from their parents from her. Even Asahi, who does have the best relationship anyone in the world could have with their parents, came out to her before he came out to anyone else.”

Suga took Oikawa’s free hand into his and searched his eyes to deliver the last encouraging words, that it was okay to tell Akiko anything and everything, that it was okay to feel overwhelmed, that it was okay to accept the love and pride.  

“So, no matter what happens, she’ll be there to support you and praise you. No matter what.” Suga said the last bit slowly, almost trailing off, as he simultaneously realized it himself.

No matter what, Oikawa was now like any of his friends, and his mother would always be there for him as well. No matter what. No matter what happened. No matter how anything happened. Even if he would tell Oikawa now, or at any time, how he felt about him, and even if Oikawa wouldn’t feel the same way, Suga knew that his mother wouldn’t stop caring about Oikawa. Not even if Oikawa did feel the same way, and they’d get together, and if their relationship and friendship came to an unfortunate end.

He hadn’t planned to do it now, or like this. But if he did, would it be... okay? Would it be anything but a disaster? He had gone through different scenarios already, trying to think of ways to confess to Oikawa, and he had come up with the ‘plan’, kind of. But right now, this moment, wasn’t part of it, and he wondered again if he should abandon the plan and just go for it.

But...

Now probably wasn’t the best time to confess to anything, to do anything. Oikawa still seemed a bit overwhelmed by his mother’s outpour of proudness and love. That was probably enough for one day. After all, Suga didn’t want to give the pour man a heart attack.

But Oikawa was standing so close, and still playing with Suga’s shirt, and it was chipping away at his resolve to hold off for another day little by little – he was already leaning a little closer, looking between Oikawa’s eyes, searching for answers for his questions.

That was when he noticed it – the way Oikawa was looking at him.

He had been so wrapped up into his own thoughts, that he hadn’t noticed how Oikawa had been watching him, a play of emotions on his face telling a similar story of what if’s and should I’s.

“Tooru?”

“Hm?”

Suga lingered in the soft look, the warmth shared between their bodies within their close proximity to one another, and felt every nerve ending in him yearning to touch Oikawa, to hold him and kiss him and tell him who much he liked him.

You could call it a cosmic joke, how Suga’s phone binged with a message, how his eyes shot towards it to see who it was and what about, and how it broke the enticing spell and had Oikawa take a half a step back.

With a resigned sigh that Suga held back, he lifted his phone to look at the message, and was quick to put it away after one glance.

“Who is it?” Oikawa asked in a curious voice.

“No one,” Suga fibbed quickly, not wanting to go there, not now. “It’s about my exhibit.” He told truthfully then.

“Is your mom coming to that? I don’t remember if I asked about it already.”

“No, she can’t make it. Too swamped with work.”

“At the library?” Oikawa narrowed his eyes, looking suspicious of Akiko’s reason.

Suga shook his head in exasperation, to let Oikawa know that it was okay for her not to come. “I think she just wants another private showing of the photos, like last time.”

Oikawa smiled widely at that, with blinding white and perfect teeth, probably thinking at the memory of the first time he had met Akiko. However, the smile diminished somewhat and Suga could see the new thought come and override the amusement.

“Do you ever feel like you’re sharing your mother with everyone else? That it takes something away from your relationship with her?” Oikawa surprised Suga with the question, and the caring way he asked it. He hadn’t expected it from the sober expression.

“No,” Suga answered with a smile and leaned back to lean against the back of the chair. “She has a lot of love to give and it would probably drown me if I was the only one she could give it to.”

“Kind of like you.”

“Me?”

“You have a lot of love to give too.”

Suga looked away to hide his shy smile. As if it wasn’t enough that Oikawa was looking at him so fondly, but he had to voice it out too.

When he looked back, he noticed that Oikawa still hadn’t moved further from him, and his eyes were downcast on his hand, the one that was still lightly holding onto his shirt hem, bunching it in his grasp, creating wrinkles.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Suga asked softly, to make sure and be absolutely certain that his mother hadn’t broken something inside him.

Oikawa nodded and looked up to him. “Just...” Oikawa’s eyes trailed to the side as he considered his words. “... suddenly drained.”

Suga flashed an understanding smile. “Do you need another hug?”

“I’d never say no to one.” Oikawa grinned and let go off the shirt. “But I think I’ll just take a nap for now.”

Suga held back his disappointment. “Go ahead. I think you’ve deserved it.”

“I definitely have.” Oikawa agreed as he was already making his way towards the couch. “Will you wake me up in a couple of hours?” He looked over his shoulder at Suga to ask.

“Sure.” He promised with a nod, watching fondly how Oikawa lay down on the couch, his body disappearing behind the back of it. Once Oikawa had found the perfect position, his moving around on the couch coming to a stop, Suga heard a slow satisfied sigh, and smiled.

Yes, Oikawa definitely deserved the nap and all the time for relaxation now that his dissertation was finished, even if he had just woken up about an hour or two ago. The countless hours he had spent studying instead of sleeping, the amount of days he had stressed because of it and all the self-doubt he had experienced was due to some making up for with fun hang out time with friends and maybe some milk bread.

 

 

...

 

 

“Wake up.”

There was a soft caress through Oikawa’s hair that made him hum appreciatively, although sleepily.

“Wake up, Tooru.” It was louder this time, but the underlying softness was still in the voice. “You’ve been sleeping for hours and if you keep sleeping any longer, you won’t be able to sleep at all at night.”

“I was having a nice dream,” Oikawa mumbled his protest not to wake up against the pillow he was hugging under him. He couldn’t remember dreaming of anything, but it sounded like a viable reason not to wake up.

A soft chuckle emanated from somewhere behind him, and a short moment later he felt a weight settle on the back of his legs. “Get up and I’ll listen to your dream.”

“No, I’m comfortable. I deserve some rest,” he refused, finally recognizing the owner of the voice.

“Fine, you brought this on yourself,” Suga said and sighed. Oikawa didn’t even have the chance to be suspicious of the way Suga said it before he felt a series of light taps on his ass, as if it was a bongo drum.

"Suga!" Oikawa laughed, smushing his face into the pillow to muffle the sound, to smother himself and welcome the inevitable death that was approaching faster and faster, like the bullet train to run him over, with every lovely second he was fortunate enough to spend with Suga.

"What?" Suga asked innocently, still lightly tapping away on Oikawa's ass and humming along like he was having the time of his life. “If this doesn’t work, I have wasabi that I’m ready to put into your pants,” Suga said conversationally, casually, not at all like the threat it obviously was.

Oikawa was confused, not entirely sure if he had heard right though. He was still a little out of it, thanks to his delicious nap. “You’re going to put what in the what now?” He was a little alarmed, thinking back to last night and how Suga had somehow talked him into eating all the wasabi and how he had predictably ended up in tears because of the _burn._ Suga had been nothing but sweet afterwards, making sure Oikawa drank all the milk, probably, in the restaurant, and apologized profusely, although with fond amusement in his expression, repeating that he didn’t think Oikawa would actually do it.

“And if you’re still not getting up from that, I’m going to wrap strips of foil into your hair so you’ll look the part.” Suga spoke as he kept drumming rhythmically, bouncing a little on Oikawa’s legs, his weight swaying a bit from side to side.

“What part?” Oikawa chuckled because of the drumming and started to turn under Suga to lie on his back. The weight on his legs lifted and the drumming on his ass stopped – which Oikawa reluctantly admitted to miss immediately – to accommodate his move, and once he was settled, Suga sat back down.

“The part of an alien you pretend you’re not.” Suga’s gaze was tender as it settled on Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa smoothed his hands softly up Suga’s legs from his knees to his thighs. He kind of, very much, undeniably, loved Suga sitting on him. Maybe too much. At least a part of him was _very_ , almost uncomfortably, interested in the way Suga was practically straddling him. His situation wasn’t helped by the fact that he hadn’t been able to diffuse and work through the crackling tension between him and Suga last night.

Okay

He needed to get Suga off of him before he noticed it.

“Could you –“ Oikawa’s voice came out higher than usual and cracked, so he was forced to clear his throat. Not subtle at all. “Could you get up?”

“Am I heavy?” Suga asked lightly.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head the little he could with it pressed on the pillow. “I can’t get up if you’re sitting on me.”

“Oh, of course.” Suga promptly got up. He stopped to stand by the side of the couch, took Oikawa’s hand into his and helped him to sit up.

Did Suga know? Had he noticed? Was that why the weird tenseness had appeared? Oikawa was suddenly paranoid that Suga had noticed the way he had started to get hard and he took a second or two to calm down his wildly beating heart before he followed Suga to the kitchen.

“I’m little hungry,” he said, trying to explain his reason for wanting to get up so suddenly when only a moment ago he had been more than happy to just stay on the couch, but the excuse sounded disconnected to his own ears too. There was no doubt Suga could hear the falseness and forced nature of it, but Oikawa tried not to think about that as he went to the fridge. “Do we have any food?” he continued as nonchalantly and normally as he could, as if it was just like any other day, perusing the contents of their fridge with a purse of his lips.

“There’s always food,” Suga answered from the kitchen island, sounding just as casual about it as Oikawa wanted to appear.

Nothing sparked Oikawa’s fancy, or intrigued his taste buds, in the fridge and he closed it softly and headed to the tall cupboard. He remembered the bag of seaweed chips he had bought the previous week.

“What are you looking for?” Suga asked when he had spent a good time by the cupboard in vain, unable to locate the bag he was almost desperately at that point looking for.

“My seaweed chips.”

“They might’ve been eaten already.”

“By you?” Oikawa asked, not giving up on finding the elusive bag. Once they came to his mind, he couldn’t stop wanting them.

“By everyone else. You need to learn to hide the snacks you want to save for yourself or they’re definitely gone in less than 24 hours.”

“I really should,” Oikawa agreed with Suga, giving up with a sigh. His snacks had been stolen for six months already, and he still didn’t think to hide them as cleverly as Suga did. As a consolation price of sorts, he picked up a lollipop from the cupboard – he wasn’t all that hungry, but he still felt like eating something. “What are you doing there?” he asked as he turned to look at Suga, unwrapping the lollipop.

“Work,” Suga replied, continuing in his casual tone, the sound of his fingers on the keyboard filling the kitchen and providing the gentle background music for their conversation.

The sound reminded Oikawa of the numerous days he had spent in the kitchen writing his dissertation. He leaned his arms on the island across from Suga. “You mean work as in your exhibit?”

“No,” Suga said with a smile, his eyes on the laptop screen, still typing. “That’s all taken care of. This is far away in the future.”

Oikawa was transfixed on Suga’s smile. He couldn’t believe how it still managed to cease his mind when it appeared, with the adorable dimples, and how it lit Suga’s face so beautifully.

“Your smile could make flowers bloom,” he said, leaning his cheek into his open palm, without realizing the words came out of his mouth until Suga ducked his chin down a little, his smile turning shy. Oikawa found it too adorable to bear. He was certain that Suga could get him to do _anything,_ with any of his smiles, and he was a little scared to find out if he was right about it.

To ease the sudden shyness from Suga, and to be nice, he extended his arm over the island. “Lollipop?” he offered with a rare, kind smile of his own.

Suga’s eyes flitted from Oikawa’s eyes to the lollipop and back a couple of times, seemingly contemplating whether to accept it or not, his smile not going away but transforming into something... intense. His eyes settled on Oikawa’s and held his gaze when he opened his mouth and leaned forward a little to take the offered lollipop.

“Thank you,” he spoke around the stick, while Oikawa tried to remember how to swallow.

Oikawa was left staring at Suga and his wicked grin, like he _knew_ what he had just done. Suga must’ve known what he just did would do to Oikawa’s sexually frustrated mind and how he might interpret it. It was all over Suga’s smile and the look in his eyes, in everything in his expression.

Oh, he knew.

It was in the way Suga sucked on the lollipop and popped it out his mouth, his lips tight around it and eyes fixed on Oikawa’s.

“Something wrong, Tooru?” Suga asked _way too_ innocently.  

_Yes_

_You’re making me hard._

“Nope,” Oikawa lied, shaking his head.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said after a deep breath and tore his eyes away from Suga to fetch another lollipop that he put into his mouth. A lot less seductively than Suga had.

As shaken as Oikawa was right then, it was definitely an excellent idea that he brought out the lollipops.

Yes, Oikawa thought as he looked at Suga. Definitely an excellent idea.

He was also more than sure that Suga knew the real reason why he had asked for Suga to get up and off of him earlier on the couch. He was almost too afraid to hope that Suga would do something about it. Almost, since he was also trying to come up with ways to divert the conversation into that direction. His pent up feelings and frustration about his inactive sex life was leading him down the scary path, but his body, mind and heart were too fed up with waiting and had taken the wheel from him when his thoughts were quite literally traveling downwards with his blood, distracting him from comprehensive thought process. 

“Do you want to celebrate your finished dissertation in some way?” Suga introduced the new topic as if he wasn’t just blowing Oikawa’s mind with his suggestive way of eating the lollipop. At least it was suggestive to Oikawa and his deprived body and mind.

“Not sure. Maybe. Why?” Oikawa tried to collect his thoughts, unsuccessfully of course, when his eyes couldn’t move from Suga’s lips. “Have you planned something already?”

“No,” Suga spoke around the lollipop, and Oikawa was quickly losing his mind. He needed a distraction, a bloody and disturbing and horrible distraction. With might and strength that rivaled Hercules, Oikawa was able to drop his eyes on the safe top of the island. “I could come up with something, though, if you want.” Suga continued in a kind voice.

“Sure,” Oikawa nodded along, not looking up at Suga, but keeping his eyes on the island. That was when his eyes trained on a stack of white cards.

 _A distraction!_ his mind yelled and he grabbed onto the new thread eagerly.

“What are these?” he asked as he picked up the card on top of the stack and held it up to show Suga. He was in a desperate need of a distraction, something else to think about than the blood pooling near his abdomen, and he hoped that would spare him for further torture.

Suga looked up from his laptop and grinned softly, his tongue playing with the lollipop inside his mouth before he pulled it out to answer. Oikawa had known that his hope had been in vain, and his eyes didn’t follow the movement, and it didn’t fill his head with ideas. Definitely not – unless he was hooked up to a lie detector and his life depended on answering honestly.

“Thank you for your critique –cards.”

Oikawa blinked a couple of times, processing what Suga had said. “What?” Maybe the distraction had helped after all – the more he thought about Suga’s answer, the clearer he could think.

“Thank you for your critique –cards.” Suga repeated and turned the card held between Oikawa’s fingers for him to see the words. “I’m planning on giving them out at the exhibit.” Suga popped the lollipop back into his mouth.

“Why would you do that?” Oikawa asked seriously. He couldn’t quite understand the need for them, wanting to hear every praise about him straight from the person complimenting him, but then again, it might’ve been because of his slight praise kink – something of which he would like to keep under wraps and you have to deny ever knowing of if the subject is ever brought up again.

“I don’t want people to take the gallery or the photos too seriously.” Suga explained and shrugged. “So I’m thinking of handing these out to everyone who comes to the exhibit.”

“You’re not worried that people won’t get that these cards aren’t to be taken seriously?”

“I’m not sure I care how people take the words on them. The photos are for enjoyment for those who find them enjoyable. They’re not meant for everyone to pass critique on, whether they like them or not, whether they see more or less than a butterfly, no matter how metaphorical it may be.”

“Hmm...” Oikawa hummed and looked down to the card in his hand again. “You should be careful about speaking like that about your photos or people will think you’re an actual artist.” He looked back up and studies Suga’s expression.

With the serious and soft conversation, Oikawa was able to steer his thoughts away from the cursed lollipop. It also helped, that Suga wasn’t eating it anymore.

“Please don’t joke about that.” Suga let out a weary laugh, looking down to the lollipop he was twirling between his fingers.

“I’m not joking.” Oikawa shook his head with a small smile. He really wasn’t. He knew that there were a lot of people who appreciated and admired Suga’s talent. “Don’t you want to be taken as a serious artist?” he thought to ask though. Suga didn’t seem pleased with the idea of being mistaken for one.

“I’m not a serious artist and I don’t want people to think of me as such.” Suga insisted softly. “I just take photos and people happen to like them.”

_Oh_

_Is that really what he thinks?_ Oikawa wondered, the atmosphere that had been dripping with sexual tension now soft and warm like an embrace.

“I’d like to think that people are able to look at the photo they’ve bought  years later and still see what they saw then, or feel what they felt when they saw it the first time. And I know, not everyone’s going to feel like that about the photos they’ve bought years later, but it makes me happy to think that they might.” Suga finished with a smile.

Oikawa exhaled slowly, letting out the breath he had unknowingly been holding, and wondered if he had ever been foolish enough to think it was impossible to fall in love with Suga.

“I really don’t care what some hoity-toity lady who calls themselves an art critique thinks about my photos. The photos are meant for the people who buy them to enjoy them, for those who see something that makes them feel something. “

 _Seriously_ , Oikawa thought for the umpteenth time, _if he keeps talking like that I won’t be able to keep from kissing him_.

“Would you like one?” Suga offered one of the cards and a pen towards him. “You can leave me a comment on how I am as your roommate.” He smiled sweetly and Oikawa accepted the pen.

He was already writing down, or drawing, a smiley face when he heard Suga’s phone ding. He couldn’t get a good look on who sent him the text before Suga blackened the screen, but he got the feeling that Suga did it on purpose so he _wouldn’t_ see it.

“You should know I only accept written words as comments, not smileys,” Suga said with a small smile Oikawa could hear in his voice.  

“And I’m only able to express my thoughts on you as a roommate in smiley faces.”

Oikawa noticed Suga’s smile widen, but it quickly died when his phone informed him of another message. Suga was quick to dismiss it too, only to heighten Oikawa’s suspicions.

“Who’s bombarding you with messages?”

“It’s just about my exhibit.” Suga said in a calm fashion, repeating the same smile from earlier that day.

“Takeda? I didn’t know he was a texter.” Oikawa asked, as innocent and clueless as he could appear and sound. He knew Suga was lying, but then again, he was allowed to have his secrets.

“He isn’t.” Suga closed his laptop and looked up to him. “Are you finished with the comment yet?”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes just a fraction, to show that he didn’t exactly believe what Suga was saying, but he decided not to call Suga out on it. But the way Suga was trying to divert the conversation away from the messages made Oikawa a bit apprehensive – had Suga already met someone else, like everyone had warned him would happen?

“Yep, done,” he said with flourish to mask his worry and slid the card back to Suga.

“Adequate?” Suga asked with an amused smile when he picked up the card and read it. “I’m an adequate roommate?”

“You are.”

“What’s missing then?”

“You told me not to use smiley faces.”

Suga let out a soft snicker and popped the lollipop back into his mouth. “I’d call you an adequate roommate too, so I guess we match.”

“Good,” Oikawa agreed with him.

“But you’re a lot of other things too.” Suga added then, softly, as if his words were honey to sweeten a cup of tea, or a soothing salve to treat his wounds.

“Yeah?” Oikawa spoke as softly. “Write it down then.” He pushed an empty card towards Suga and held the pen back for him.

Suga took them without a beat and thought for a minute before he started to scribble away, thoughtlessly clicking the lollipop against his teeth with his tongue, giving unnecessary ideas to Oikawa again. Guess his threateningly arising boner hadn’t died down the way he had thought after all, if it was rising again so quickly.

Oikawa tried to peek at the card, to distract himself away from the ideas Suga’s sucking on the lollipop kept giving him, but Suga kept shielding the card from him with his hand. When Suga’s phone dinged again, he turned it around on the island, screen facing down, and continued with the comment. _If Suga had met someone else, why was he hiding it,_ Oikawa wondered as he tried to sneak a glance at the card.

“Here,” Suga folded the card when he was done, the text hidden inside it, and gave it back to Oikawa. “But you’re not allowed to read it until tomorrow.”

“Why?” Oikawa accepted the folded card with a furrowed brow.

“Please?” Suga asked instead of giving an answer, sounding genuine about it. “Not until tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed, although apprehensively, and slid the card into his pocket.

“Good,” Suga nodded once and pushed himself down from the stool, his hands pressed on the island. “I have to go then.”

“Where?” Oikawa’s mind flashed back to the messages.

“Asahi’s.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my friend and I want to hang with him.”

“Alright,” Oikawa chuckled. He had a feeling there was more to it than Suga revealed, but he let it go. Suga could have his secrets. “See you later then.”

“Yep,” Suga smiled. “Unless I fall asleep during the movie.”

“What?” Oikawa asked curiously.

“I sometimes fall asleep when Asahi asks me to watch a scary movie with him,” Suga explained patiently as he went to throw the lollipop stick into the trash. “It’s always a movie that I’ve seen before, and I tend to fall asleep due to boredom when we have to pause the movie every time Asahi hears the first notes of the the thrilling music, just so he can ease into the jumpscares so he doesn’t get a heart attack.”

Oikawa smiled, imagining a jumpy Asahi on the couch with bored but a little amused looking Suga waiting patiently to resume the movie next to him. He could tell Suga was telling the truth of going over to Asahi’s from the sincere way Suga was speaking.

 “What movie are you watching today?” Oikawa inquired, in an effort to maximize his time with Suga before he absolutely had to go. He was almost regretting taking the nap earlier.

“I’m not sure. Apparently it’s one that Noya wants to see. I usually only watch a horror movie with Asahi when Noya wants to watch something scary, just so Asahi can appear braver than he is when he watches it with Noya.  I don’t know why he bothers since Noya probably knows best what a scaredy-cat he can be, but it’s still sweet.”

“And you always fall asleep?” Oikawa tried not to pout. Really _tried_ to. “I thought that was our thing, falling asleep during a movie. Do I need to get jealous?”

“No,” Suga laughed. “Why would you get jealous?” Suga asked with a mischievous smile that further confirmed Oikawa’s earlier thought that Suga knew, or at least had some idea of his arousal.

“No reason.” Oikawa shrugged as nonchalantly as well and he picked up the lollipop he had forgotten a long time ago.

“I’ll be back once the end credits start to roll,” Suga promised softly, his hand traveling down on Oikawa’s arm in a comforting way. “We can have a mini celebration in your honor by cooking dinner together if you want. Just us.”

Oikawa smiled at the thought, dropping his gaze to his feet for a moment. “Sounds good,” he replied when he looked up.

“Good,” Suga nodded. “I better go. If I’m not back in five hours, it means I’ve fallen asleep. Come and wake me up then?”

“I will,” it was Oikawa’s turn to promise.

“Okay,” Suga stepped back, an air of reluctance in his moves. “Bye.” He made a little wave with his hand, and with that and a happy smile, he left.

Which Oikawa thought a good thing right then and there, for a problem had arisen in his pants ever since Suga had taken the –

Oikawa shuttered a sigh as he thought back to the sight.

_Lollipop_

And he needed to take of that problem – preferably without witnesses. He had a feeling it wouldn’t just go away, not with his mind replaying the image of Suga taking the lollipop, sucking on it and playing with it, on a loop. 

There was no knowing who might come in, at any given moment, so he was mindful of taking certain precautions, quickly making his way to lock the front door before he disappeared into his bedroom.

 

 

...

 

 

“I hear there’s a bet going on,” Suga said casually, introducing the topic smoothly while Asahi was fiddling with the DVD player. He was already sitting comfortably crosslegged on Asahi’s couch, ready to spend four hours watching an hour and a half long horror movie.

Apparently, though, the question about the bet, or maybe just the bet, wasn’t as innocent as Suga thought, since Asahi turned to look at him slowly, as if Suga was the Death itself coming to do his job.

“Are you mad?”

Suga frowned, feeling a bit confused. Mad? Why would he be mad? “No, why?”

“I just thought you might be, since it’s about you and Oikawa.” Asahi admitted with wide eyes, looking truly afraid of the chance that Suga might be mad at him.

“Me and Oikawa?”

“Oh,” Asahi let out in surprise, the fear falling off his face in an instant when he was struck with the realization. “I thought you knew what the bet was about.”

“No,” Suga said slowly with as he shook his head. “I just heard there’s a bet.”

“Oh, okay.” Asahi turned back to the DVD player and pushed the disc in before he made his way to the same couch that Suga was sitting on. He was acting like he hadn’t just revealed something that Suga was very interested to know more about, and Suga was not having it.

“Are you ready?” Asahi asked, his hand holding a remote and hovering in the air.

“No, I’m not ready.” Suga said with a frustrated chuckle. “What do you mean there’s a bet about me and Oikawa?”

“It’s nothing.” Asahi lied very badly. It almost felt like an insult to Suga that he even tried to.

“Asahi,” Suga said sternly. He needed answers, and he needed them now. He already didn’t like that his friends had invested a lot of money on the bet, but that it was about him, and Oikawa – that was too much.

With a sigh, Asahi dropped the hand that was holding the remote into his lap, his eyes downcast for a moment before he looked up, looking as sincere as ever.

“It’s about Oikawa confessing to you that he likes you.” 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _dun, dun, dun_
> 
> Finally! All the mentions of Oikawa's ponytail have been paid off with Suga pulling on it :) 
> 
> I might've been listening to My My My!, "accidentally" on a loop, while I was writing the chapter. 
> 
> And here is my heartfelt apology that it took me three weeks to update. I'm so sorry.   
> Won't happen again, at least I hope so, since I'm a person who feels too deeply about everything, and sometimes it's hard to predict that something doesn't affect me as strongly at it did two weeks ago. 
> 
> As always, to be continued:   
> "You look like a fuckboy."


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and replies to my replies. You have no idea how it fuelled this chapter and somehow inspired me to write so much more into this chapter than I had planned :) Thank you! 
> 
> I hope this chapter makes sense, since there are a lot of time jumps. If anything doesn't make sense, feel free to ask for me to explain or elaborate :)

 

“Suga?” Asahi asked carefully. “Are you mad?”

 

…

 

 

Oikawa was sitting in his armchair to avoid the glare on the TV the late afternoon sun was causing, his right feet propped up on the coffee table, while the left one was pulled close to his chest. He was kind of bored, kind of void of ideas of what to do when he didn’t have anything he had to get done. He felt, not weird, but not quite normal either – as if something was missing, something essential that made him _him._

He gathered his hair into a ponytail and twisted the hair tie on his wrist around it as he pondered on his suddenly empty calendar. He pulled the ponytail tight as he sunk further into his thoughts, as it had become a habit to him ever since he had picked up the new hairstyle. He found it peculiar how quickly he had taken up the habit of pulling his hair onto a ponytail, and how easy it was to do. For some reason, he ha previously thought that it would be harder to make a perfect ponytail, if his sister’s whining about her less than perfect ponytails during their shared adolescence years was any basis for anyone to build their opinion on. But it really was quite easy to do, and he found the action calming too. In addition of his new habit of pulling his hair onto a small ponytail – which he did multiple times a day just so his hands could have something to do – he had picked up a habit of slipping deep into meditative focus on his thoughts as he ran his fingers through his hair. It was calming, and he often pulled the hair tie off just to go through the motions of putting it back on.

He knew, that if he hadn’t finished his dissertation and submitted it to his advisor the day before, he would be obsessing on it as he pulled the hair tie off and started to gather his hair onto a new ponytail. But now he had new thoughts he was almost obsessing over. Despite of whatever it was that he was watching on the TV and how distracting the colorful drawings clearly tried to be, his mind kept flashing back to his day. He couldn’t stop thinking about the call with Akiko, or Suga with the lollipop – the first made him emotional all over again, and the latter made him horny.

He was literally riding the rollercoaster of his emotions, his mood up and down and hot and cold in turns. It really couldn’t have been a worse time for Kuroo to come right then.

“Hello!” 

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder and saw Kuroo saunter in as if he owned the place – just like he always did. The man didn’t even pause to take his shoes off as he had come in without them, as per usual.

“You have food in your kitchen, right?” Kuroo asked as he was already making his way there. “I don’t have anything in mine.”

“You never have anything in yours.” Oikawa stated and turned back to the TV. He wasn’t even sure what he was watching, but it was colorful, and fun, and he was weirdly enough enjoying it. At least it was better entertainment than Kuroo raiding their fridge was.

“Not true,” Kuroo refuted, taking out leftovers from the fridge. “There’s rice.”

“And yet, you always eat here.”

“Well, I know you like the company, so why wouldn’t I be nice and come over now and then?”

“Beats me,” Oikawa mumbled. He kind of liked that Kuroo came over so often, but he’d never admit it out loud, especially not to Kuroo. What if Kuroo took it as seriously as he meant it? He would never live it down.

“I’d never deny you the joy of my company,” Kuroo said in a voice oversaturated with sugar and honey, sticky and sweet and smooth like overrun molasses.

It made Oikawa suspicious and he turned in his seat to look at Kuroo with narrowed eyes, his mind taking apart everything he saw to figure his neighbor out, to be two steps ahead of the game that had been thrown at him. “What do you want?” he asked in a measured voice, still scrutinizing Kuroo.

“I told you I’m here for food.”

Oikawa didn’t believe him and he let Kuroo see it.

“Seriously, I don’t want anything from you,” Kuroo said, very seriously. He even paused in middle of fixing himself something to eat to look at Oikawa to deliver his words. 

“What do you want, Kuroo?” Oikawa asked again, more sternly than before, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Okay, fine, you caught me.” Kuroo lifted his hands in the air in a sign of surrender, rather easily admitting defeat. It told Oikawa two things – one, Kuroo really needed something big and two, he needed it quick.

Oikawa smirked with his victory, but didn’t let up his scrutiny of the man until he got an actual answer.

Kuroo put the lid back on the container he had been picking his food from before he spoke again. “There’s this tryout that I want to go to, and I was wondering if you’d help me practice.”

“Why don’t you ask any of your other friends’ help?”

“Because they’re not as good at setting as you are,” Kuroo answered as he gingerly got closer to the microwave and carefully, as if he was afraid that the microwave would bite him, put his plate inside to heat up the food.

Oikawa took the offered moment to double check that he had heard Kuroo right. “You want me to set to you? As in volleyball?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo nodded and started the microwave, looking like he would’ve preferred to hold a long stick in his hand to do so, and skipped and half-ran away to the other side of the kitchen from the dangerous machine when it whirred into life. “Is that a problem?” He turned to look at Oikawa to ask when it appeared that the microwave wasn’t going to blow up at that very moment.

Oikawa didn’t want to do it, but he didn’t want to refuse either, because he kind of wanted to do it. He sometimes got the itch to play – it would come suddenly and sometimes it was bad enough to scratch with bad habits, sometimes it was more tolerable and he could ride it out by pushing himself to do something, anything else. Unwittingly Kuroo had asked him when he was itching, and he was offering a scratch that Oikawa couldn’t ignore.

“Are the tryouts to a volleyball team, one that you’re not playing in right now?”

“It’s F.C Tokyo.”

“And that’s why you’re not asking help from any of your friends or teammates. You don’t want them to know.” Oikawa said knowingly, understanding the situation and why Kuroo was asking him.

“I just want to tryout, see if I’d be good enough to get in.”

Oikawa turned back to the TV, scooting lower on the armchair. “You probably are,” he admitted to the screen. “They’re not that good of a team.”

“How is it that you managed to say both a compliment and an insult at the same time?” Kuroo asked as the whirring of the microwave stopped abruptly.

“Practice,” Oikawa answered smoothly, his back still turned to Kuroo. He could hear Kuroo prod at the microwave, the light taps here and there dully echoing until it started up again, accompanied by Kuroo’s squawk of a scream.

“Or you’re just that rude of a person,” Kuroo threw back at him, his voice a quivering just and just enough for Oikawa to notice it when he was looking for it after the fright Kuroo had just experienced.

“No, it’s practice.”

Oikawa could imagine Kuroo shake his head in the kitchen, muttering expletives at the once-again-steadily-whirring microwave, and maybe a little at him too. Oikawa grinned with satisfaction that he had gotten the last word.

“This machine is a deathray in-waiting,” Kuroo said when the whirring stopped again, and took out his reheated food.

“If you don’t like it, buy us a new one.”

“Like Suga would let me,” Kuroo muttered as his light steps carried him to the living room. Oikawa knew he was right – Suga was oddly attached to their microwave. Maybe there was a story there that he hadn’t heard yet. Oikawa made a note to himself to remember to ask about it later.

“So,” Kuroo said casually, the microwave and it’s capability to kill any of them in their sleep forgotten, as he sat down with a mountain of food piled onto a plate. “Will you help me?”

Oikawa pursed his lips and raised his chin a little higher as he regarded Kuroo and the amount of food for a moment. He knew that Kuroo didn’t get the job he had interviewed for a couple of weeks ago, or any of the other ones he had gone to, and was probably trying to save us much as he could and skimp on as many things as he could. Oikawa didn’t really have the heart to blame Kuroo on the overabundance of food, and he understood his want to strive for more with volleyball as a result. Still, he took a beat before he answered.  “Sure, I’ll help you, as long as you do something to me in return. And don’t tell Iwa-chan.”

“Why? Is he going to get jealous?” Kuroo joked with a slight wiggle of his eyebrows that Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes at.

“No.” He shook his head. “He’d get mad at me. I’m not supposed to play at all.”

“It’s just setting.” Kuroo shrugged. “I’m sure your knee will be fine,” he said as his gaze dropped to Oikawa’s injured knee.

Oikawa wanted to draw his leg away, to further hide away the already pants-covered scar from curious eyes. “Why do you even want me to set to you? Aren’t you a middle blocker?”

“It’s tryouts. Who knows what they’ll throw at us.”

“That’s true,” Oikawa mused. “Want to practice with watermelons? Or really big oranges?” he suggested as a joke, grinning with his own cleverness.

“I want to succeed, not make a fruit salad.” Kuroo quipped back and a hopeful smile spread on his lips. “Besides, wouldn’t it be cool if I got in the team? I could actually play for a living.”

Yes, that was cool, Oikawa would have to admit. But he was a bit resentful of the fact that it had been his dream as well, and he couldn’t fulfil it. “Yeah, cool,” he spoke flatly. “I’m still bringing something crazy to practice with. Because, as you said, who knows what they’ll throw at you.”

“Yeah, whatever. As long as you’ll actually set too.”

“I will,” Oikawa promised and focused back to the forgotten anime he had been sort of enjoying before the ‘cool cat’ had interrupted.

“What are you watching?” Kuroo asked with a mouth full of food when a disturbing image of blood spraying everywhere and characters laughing and enjoying the show flashed on the screen.

“I have no idea, it’s was on Suga’s Netflix cue.”

“Ugh, no wonder there anymore then.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa hummed as he considered how desensitized he had become to the cartoon violence in the span of the months he had been living with Suga. He didn’t find any hint within him of minding it at all. Before he had moved in with Suga, he didn’t really watch shows filled with bloodbath, but now... Maybe he really had changed, just a little, as some people were eager to point out to him.

There was a lull in their conversation as they both got transfixed on the scene on the TV – two characters punching each other at the speed of hummingbirds’ wings and neither showing any signs of injuries.

“By the way, I tried to come by earlier too, but your door was locked.” Kuroo started another topic when the episode’s end credits song started to play and he had emptied his plate. Oikawa was sure it would require mythbusters of some variety to crack the case of a human stomach that could somehow fit a bucketful of food in such a short time.

“So?” Oikawa glanced at him warily, though. He wasn’t sure where Kuroo was going with this, and was cautious. He didn’t feel like talking about, much less advertising, his afternoon delights.

“Did you and Suga finally get to it?” Kuroo asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows so suggestive it was bordering on leery. And just about enough for Oikawa to understand where Kuroo was going with this.

“No,” he frowned, disapproving that Kuroo would even go there.  

Kuroo looked a bit confused, and sounded it too when he asked, “Did you bring someone here?”  

“Of course not.” Oikawa scoffed.

“Did Suga bring someone?” Kuroo’s voice was laced with pity.

“No.” Oikawa was offended.

A slow smirk grew on Kuroo’s face as the realization seemed to dawn on him, rather slowly. “Did you have fun with your hand?”

“Fuck off.”

Kuroo snorted before he started to cackle. “I told you that would happen at some point when you live with Suga and have a massive crush on him.”

Oikawa didn’t want to correct Kuroo, that it wasn’t just living with Suga that had brought on his boner. He really didn’t want to reveal how little it had finally taken for him to pop one.

“Why are you so crass?” he lamented dramatically and tried to ignore the damn hyena that sounded like it was choking occupying the couch as best as he could.

“I reserve my smoothness to those I like.” Kuroo replied like the cool agent he probably thought he was when he collected himself. “Unfortunately, you’re not one those lucky individuals.”

“Or maybe I am.” Oikawa shot back. “You’re not as smooth as you seem to think you are.”

Kuroo laughed again, his plate precariously tipping in his lap. There might’ve not been any food there anymore, but it wasn’t a clean plate either.

“You might want to take it easy on the cackling,” Oikawa suggested dryly. “Or you’ll lose your food-privileges here when Suga-chan gets mad that you got the couch dirty.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Kuroo flipped his hand to swat the worries away. “He likes me too much to ever do something like that.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Why would anyone bet on that?” Suga had lied down on the couch a long ago, in search of a comfortable position to watch the movie and wait to continue the movie. He had thrown his feet over the armrest and he had been looking up to the ceiling, but not at it, as he had sunk into his thoughts on the bet once again when Asahi had paused the movie.

“To make a lot of money?” Asahi had probably thrown the first guess he could come up with.

“How much is in the pool now?”

“About 100,000 yen.”

Suga’s jaw dropped and he had to take a moment to wrap his mind around the sum of money. “Seriously?”

“A lot of people took part in it over the course of the past weeks. Placing a bet on a day when they think Oikawa tells you he likes you. Your exhibition tomorrow has the most bets.”

“And how much money did they put down to place a bet?”

“2,000.”

Suga closed his eyes, completely done with his neighbors. “I can’t believe them.” He had used the term ‘them’ loosely, but he knew that Asahi knew who he meant with it. And from there on out, the pair of housewives would be referred to as nothing but ‘them’, a singular term not enough to distinguish anyone in particular, but simultaneously just enough for anyone to know that it wasn’t just one person, and not necessarily just two. And that it was two specific individuals as well.

“Everyone has known for months and everyone thought it would be fun to bet on when Oikawa confesses?  Did they really think it would be productive in any way, or even considerate, to let their money and own goals sway their actions? To let their own seek for monetary gain rule the possible relationship Oikawa and I could have by influencing how everything proceeded? Did they really think it would be okay to interfere? To stall us when they noticed that Oikawa was getting closer to confessing and they hadn’t placed a bet on that particular day? Or to rush us when the day they had bet on was coming soon and Oikawa was nowhere close to confessing?” Suga rambled, trying to get his mind around the fact that his friends had bet on the possibility of a relationship and probably done everything they could think of to make sure they win.

“Something like that,” Asahi nodded gravely. Apparently he wasn’t happy about their friends’ actions either. Or maybe he was a bit sore about the fact that he had been unwittingly placed into the position of knowing about the bet and wanting nothing to do with it but being almost forced to do so.

“How would an idea like that even pop to them? What had been the thought process there to make them think it would be okay to bet on it?”

“It was at a party, everyone was drunk, and someone made an offhanded comment betting that Oikawa would confess to you that night, but someone else had countered that there was no way he’d confess then. And thus the bet had been made. Then more people heard about it and were placing bets too.”

Suga threw his arms over his face to block the information he’d come to know about the bet, to block the knowledge that it had been his so-called-friends’ inconsiderate idea. “Can I plausibly deny that I’ve never known any of them?”

“No,” Asahi answered softly. “You’re too fond of them to do so.”

Suga groaned. “Can we continue the movie? I want to think about something else.”

Asahi pressed play almost instantly and hugged a pillow to his chest, only to pause the movie again after a record of seven minutes.

 

 

...

 

 

When Suga got home, hours later, he was disappointed to see his neighbors in the living room. He didn’t know why they had come, or when, nor did he care. He didn’t feel like hanging with any of them right then and there, the new knowledge of the bet weighing in his mind. And he didn’t want them to know that he knew about the bet.

There was something unsettling in the living room, though, but Suga couldn’t place it. Everyone seemed to be acting normal, just being themselves. There were a couple of plates on the table, evidence that some of them had eaten, and there was anime playing on the TV. Oikawa was sitting in his armchair, his right leg lightly bouncing against the coffee table in an idle manner, while Akaashi occupied the couch under the window  next to Hinata, who was sitting upside down, his head hanging off the seat of the couch and Kenma’s head on his stomach. Kuroo and Bokuto had taken up residence on the other couch, taking up all the available space with their long legs and arms.

Yes, everything was as it always was. And yet, something was... off. And Suga realized, that it was him who was different. He had never felt the need or want to hide anything from his friends, but now he did. He kind of wanted to bring up the bet, but how could he? And simultaneously, how could he not?

_“You can’t tell anyone that I know.”_ He had told Asahi, who had agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

But now, seeing his friends in his living room and hearing their laughter, Suga found it hard to think that they had meant to hurt anyone’s feelings with the bet.

“Welcome back.” Oikawa greeted with a grin when Suga announced his presence. “I was just about to come and get you.”

“We just ended the movie.”

“You took four hours?” Oikawa asked incredulously after he glanced at a clock. “How long was the movie?”

“With Asahi, four hours and a for-the-rest-of-my-life-ruined Insidious.”

Oikawa chuckled. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Suga shrugged. “I don’t mind, it was fun to just hang with Asahi.”

And it had been fun, despite the not-so-fun conversation they had had on and off during the pauses in the movie.

_“Oh no.” Asahi paused the movie and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath._

_“Hmm,” Suga munched on popcorn as he hummed in thought. “This reminds me of Signs and how you paused the movie within the first five seconds of the movie when you heard the first notes of the music during the beginning credits.”_

_“Don’t remind me,” Asahi despaired._

_“Or Jaws. Remember, during high school, the first movie we saw together.”_

_“Stop.” Asahi covered his ears with his hands. “You’re giving me horror flashbacks and it’s not helping.”_

_Suga chuckled lightly and patted Asahi’s arm. “It’s okay. You’ll be fine. You’re not alone, and the monsters in this particular movie aren’t real. Besides, this is nothing like Flubber.”_

_“No, Suga, stop.” Asahi wailed and raised his arms over his face to press his face into them. “I had nightmares about that blob for months.”_

_Suga snickered._

_“I can’t believe you find it funny to tease me about it.”_

_“I’m trying to ease your tension with the laughter,” Suga defended genuinely, knowing from previous horror movie experiences with Asahi, that it could take him weeks to finish a movie. In the end, they had given up on Saw after they had managed to watch 30 minutes of it in the span of three weeks and four days. Asahi had truly struggled with the concept that anyone would ever do something so horrible to another human being. Suga had never heard him rant as much as he did during the pauses, going on hours to try and wrap his mind around the movie’s plot only to realize he didn’t care why he’d bother to do that, before it was late and they both needed sleep. “We’ll never make it through this movie if you take it too seriously.”_

_“But ghosts are serious!” Asahi said seriously. “They can haunt you! They can see you even when you don’t see them. Remember when Noya said that he saw a ghost at the end of his bed? I don’t want that to happen. That’s why I never open my eyes in my bed when it’s dark. Even if there’s a ghost there, I don’t want to see it to confirm it’s there.”_

_Suga wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry that Asahi was being so serious._

_“Promise me this movie has a happy ending.” Asahi demanded desperately. ”I don’t want go through what I went through with the Mist.”_

_“In a way,” Suga nodded, answering as truthfully as he could without spoiling too much of it._

_“In a way?” Asahi asked incredulously. “Does that mean that someone dies because the ghosts do something to them?”_

_“I don’t want to spoil it for you.”_

_“No, just tell me. It’s easier to watch then.”_

Suga had told him, after he had thought it through. It didn’t make the movie experience any easier for Asahi, though. And once the movie had ended, Asahi had admitted, as Suga had predicted, that he had ended up spoiling it for him and that it had taken something away from the horrifying experience – which in Asahi’s case could be called a good thing. He still had paused the movie every time he was sure he’d get scared enough to jump out of his skin. Suga had tried to comfort Asahi by reminding him that he’d probably just end up making out with Noya when they watched the movie together.

“Wait,” Kuroo interrupted. “You watched another horror movie with Asahi?”

“Yep,” was Suga’s quick answer before he returned his focus to Oikawa. He leaned his arms on the back of the armchair Oikawa was sitting in and lowered his voice to an almost-whisper. “Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Oikawa was already looking back at him, and his answer was a quick “Yes,” but his expression clouded by a frowned curiosity.

Suga smiled, in an effort to try and smooth the frown on Oikawa’s expression and with the feeling of true excitement about the evening as he straightened up. He was able to take a half a step away before Oikawa grabbed his wrist gently.

It was Suga’s turn to look at Oikawa curiously, first down at his wrist and Oikawa’s hand around it and then to Oikawa’s eyes.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa asked in a low voice and with concern, his eyes searching Suga’s face for the answer.

“I’m okay.” Suga replied softly and Oikawa let go off his wrist with a small nod, even though he didn’t quite look like he believed Suga.

“Can I stay over for dinner?” Kuroo asked hopefully.

“No,” Oikawa and Suga said at the same time.

“Okay, first of all, rude.” Kuroo said with a sassy hand movement. “And second of all, if you don’t want to hang with me tonight just say so.”

“We don’t want to hang with you.” Suga said with a glance over his shoulder, already walking away from the living room. He couldn’t stay in the living room any longer and not say something about the bet. He knew that curious eyes followed him to the hallway, but he ignored them.

They had accidentally rushed Suga’s plan with the bet that they thoughtlessly started months, _months,_ ago. And as he tried not to think too much about the bet, he tried even more not to think about how their friends had noticed that Oikawa liked him a long time ago, and he still hadn’t confessed.

Suga tried not to think about it, for if he did, he could feel himself start to panic – why had it taken Oikawa this long to just sit on his confession? Why hadn’t he done it already? And if he hadn’t, maybe Suga shouldn’t confess either.

But he knew he had to. Just to save his friends from losing a lot of money, he knew he had to confess. And soon.

 

 

...

 

 

_“Why didn’t you tell me about the bet?” Suga had asked, wondering on the different reasons Asahi might’ve had. He didn’t believe that Asahi would’ve been a willing participant, knowing how uncomfortable it made Suga that other people got invested in his personal relationships._

_“I couldn’t once they made me part of it by naming me the bank. I hold the money.” Asahi had admitted quietly, sincerely sounding a little ashamed that he had been robed into the whole thing. “I guess they wanted to make sure I didn’t tell you anything, because then you’d get mad at me too.”_

_“But you just told me,” Suga had pointed out with a tilted smile._

_“It’s been three months, Suga.” Asahi had stated point blank, all the shame disappearing as quickly as if it had been a magic trick. “It was time.”_

_“Then, why did you hesitate earlier? When I asked you about it before we started the movie?”_

_“I was afraid that you’d get angry, but since it doesn’t seem likely anymore, I thought it was okay to come clean.” Asahi had heaved a heavy sigh, his eyes dropping to his lap. “It feels good.”_

_Suga had placed a comforting hand on Asahi’s shoulder and rubbed it lightly. “Thanks for telling me now.”_

_Asahi had looked at him for a moment before he had nodded and resumed the movie._

_“The bet will end soon, anyway. You don’t need to worry about it anymore.” Suga had said soothingly, wrapping his arms around his knees._

_It had garnered a curious look from Asahi, but he hadn’t said a thing, quickly returning his gaze back to the movie._

_“But it’s paramount that no one knows that I know. I don’t want anyone to get any more ideas about investing their money just to lose it.”_

_This time, when Asahi  had paused the movie again, it wasn’t because he was scared again. “Is that what bothers you the most?”_

_“Hm?” Suga had looked at Asahi and saw how serious his friend was._

_“Not just the bet, but that they put money on the bet?” Asahi had elaborated his question._

_“Amongst other things.” Suga had studied the main characters frozen face on the screen, the oncoming realization the character would soon have already dawning in his expression. He had wished he could’ve had a similar dawning of a realization a lot sooner than he had._

_“What other things?”_

_Suga had taken a deep breath and let it out in a quick short burst of air through his nose as he dropped his eyes to his lap. “For one,” he looked up to Asahi, “that everyone knew that Oikawa liked me months ago, but didn’t say a word.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“And second, that everyone knew that Oikawa liked me when they also knew that I liked him, and still didn’t say a word of it.”_

 

 

...

 

 

“Can you believe that just happened?” Kuroo asked in awe, his hand gesturing after Suga, who had already disappeared into the hallway and presumably his bedroom. Oikawa had looked after him, wondering what was going on with the man. He had appeared a lot cheerier and easy going than he was now, and Oikawa was understandably concerned.

“Did you confess to Suga?” Akaashi asked in usual quiet manner.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Oikawa faked a grin to lead everyone on, for a little bit, for his own amusement. He wanted to go after Suga to make sure he was okay, away from everyone else’s curious looks, but he also wanted to have his fun.

“No. I’ll believe it when Suga confirms it. Can I ask him?” Akaashi asked again, surprisingly even more seriously than he usually spoke.

Oikawa considered the ins and outs and decided it was better that Akaashi didn’t ask Suga. It would just tell Suga that he liked him before he was ready to confess. “I didn’t tell him,” he admitted, forced to give up his fun.

“Big surprise.” Bokuto said under his breath and popped a seaweed chip, which Oikawa suspected had originally come from his stash of goods, into his mouth.

“You can tell him tonight.” Hinata, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until that point – although Kenma lying with his head in Hinata’s lap might have something to do with it – suggested.

“No, not tonight.” Kuroo shook his head in warning.

“Why?” Bokuto was curious to know. As close and intimate as Hinata and Kenma probably ever got with each other with others present, Bokuto and Akaashi were acting as the model of the other end the spectrum, sitting as far from each other as possible. Oikawa made a belated note of Akaashi coming in first asking for Suga, and Bokuto coming later and sitting next to Kuroo, nudging him to the other end of the couch so he could sit as far away as possible from Akaashi who had been occupying the other couch alone at that point.

“No one bet on tonight,” Kuroo answered Bokuto’s question.

Oikawa sighed. His fear had just been confirmed for the last time – he had had his suspicions from what he had heard in the past weeks, but he had held on hope that everyone had been joking. He didn’t really mind his friends’ forced indirect involvement into his blossoming relationship with Suga, but the bet was a bit too much. “I really held on hope until the very end that you didn’t bet on me and Suga-chan.”

“Yes, we bet on your love life for our own enjoyment and profit. Your friends are assholes, congratulations.” Kuroo said sarcastically.

“I never expected more,” Oikawa said in genuine honesty and got up. His mind had returned to Suga and his concern was building up enough for him to do some investigation.

“But if Oikawa confesses tonight, everyone gets their money back.” Hinata pointed out, but Oikawa wasn’t listening anymore.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and left the living room, his long legs taking him down the hallway in no time. There had been something in Suga’s expression, in his smile and quick answers earlier that didn’t seem quite as genuine as they usually did, and Oikawa was instantly worried and suspicious of what was going on. He suspected that it wasn’t just the movie that he had watched with Asahi. Something else must’ve happened, and he worried that it might have something to do with the texts Suga had been quick to dismiss.

 

 

...

 

 

_“What happens if two or more bet on the same day? Do they split the money equally?”_

_“A-ha.” Asahi had nodded, his words muffled due to the popcorn he was stress-eating._

_“Is there a day that hasn’t been bet on yet?”_

_“Today is one.” Asahi had stopped to think. “Also, two days from your exhibition and then onwards don’t have any bets on, but that could change.”_

_“What’s the rule on placing the bet? When is it allowed?”_

_“You can’t place a bet on the current day.”_

_“And what if Oikawa confesses on a day that no one has bet on?”_

_“Everyone gets their money back.” Asahi had replied, and then tilted his head infinitesimally as a thought must’ve come to him. “Are you planning something?”_

 

...

 

 

Oikawa walked into Suga’s room without preamble. “Suga –“

“Um?” Suga looked up with wide and uncertain eyes from his weird balance exercise as he was taking of his sock. “Knock first?”

Oikawa quickly took stock of the situation. “Sorry,” he apologized for his rudeness. “I just came to check that you’re okay. And to ask how often do you change your clothes.” he said, his uncharacteristically idle mind focused on the fact that Suga was about to take his clothes off and how that thought was giving him _images_ and _ideas._

“It’s a thing I do, accept it and move on.” Suga answered as he threw the sock to his laundry basket.

Oikawa chuckled lightly and leaned his shoulder onto the doorframe.

“Why are you here?” Suga turned back to him to ask, pulling off his sweater.

“In your room?” He was going to make use of every second he had with Suga to flirt with him, even if he was worried.

“Yeah, did you just come to see me take my clothes off?” Suga asked with a half-smirk, his whole demeanor suggesting at teasing.

Oikawa grinned, pleased by the sudden development and change in the mood, and the hilariousness of Suga’s current state of clothing with one sock missing. “Well, if you’re stripping I wouldn’t mind watching.” He looked Suga up and down as slowly as he could to give the right impression of checking him out without seeming too suggestive. It was a fine art that he had mastered years ago, and he had it down to pat.

There was a small grin on Suga’s lips and he already looked less bothered by whatever it was that had been on his mind when he came home. “Didn’t we already establish that you can’t afford that show?”

“One can hope, right?” Oikawa raised his eyebrow as he asked.

Suga chuckled lightly but sobered somewhat, his expression turning serious. “Why are you here?” he repeated his earlier question.

“Because something’s obviously wrong, and I care about you enough to ask about it.” Oikawa answered honestly, sounding as sincere as he ever had.

Suga just looked at him for a moment, standing stock still, his eyes fixed on Oikawa’s. “Who are you and how long ago did you kidnap Oikawa to take his place?”

Oikawa laughed. “What?”

“It’s just... It’s unlike of you to say that out loud?” Suga sounded uncertain, as if he didn’t believe that it was unlike him, and unsure whether he should even ask.

“Not when it matters,” Oikawa continued in his sincere tone. It was important to him that Suga knew that he cared about him.

“You’d never say that to anyone else you were planning on letting live a second longer.”

Oikawa dropped his chin to hide his smile, pleased that Suga knew him so well. “But you’re special,” he stated when he looked up.

Suga was stopped, in real time, for another moment. Oikawa wondered what was going through his mind, what could possibly stop him so. But apparently he was full of surprises that tripped Suga over and over again that day.

And so was Suga once he seemed to have managed to get his thoughts back on track.

“I can take my other sock off free of charge,” he said, the teasing smile back on his lips and suddenly everything Oikawa could think about. “Do you want to see that?”

Oikawa burst into short laughter to hide his arousal. “Always,” he answered truthfully, though. “But are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Oikawa tilted his head a little, still disbelieving Suga. He didn’t get to call Suga out on his transparent lie before he backtracked himself.

“Actually no, I’m not.” Suga finally pulled his other sock off too. “But I’m not ready to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Oikawa accepted. He could wait until Suga was ready. “But once you are, you know where to find me.”

“In a galaxy far, far away?”

Oikawa was laughing again. “I’m serious, Suga-chan,” he sobered to say and took a deep breath to calm down. “You can talk to me about anything. You know that, right?”

“I do,” Suga nodded and smiled softly, as beautifully as ever. “Thank you, Tooru.”

Oikawa smiled back and pulled himself from the doorframe to step out of the doorway so he could give Suga some privacy. “Are you coming to the living room once you’ve managed to change your clothes?”

“Once you get rid of everyone,” Suga answered mysteriously, his smile mischievously tilted.  

“You don’t want to hang with them?” Oikawa asked curiously as he stepped back into Suga’s room.

“Not tonight, no,” Suga said with a small shake of his head.

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded even though he was even further confused. “Give me ten minutes.”

 

 

...

 

 

_“I get that you’re mad at everyone now, but I’m more surprised that you’re not surprised to know that Oikawa likes you.”_

_The movie had been paused again, and Asahi was hugging a pillow to his chest as if it was a shield that he could hide behind from all the evils in the world, as if hugging it would make the movie less scary._

_“I’ve known for a while now,” Suga had admitted quietly, picking at the loose thread at the hole of his jeans at his knee, his eyes trained to what his fingers had been doing, his mind’s eye seeing the two stuffed toy ducklings on the shelf in his living room._

_“You have?” Asahi had looked at him curiously, his eyes barely visible over the pillow._

_“I was...” Suga had paused to think back, to correctly describe what he had been feeling back then. “I was surprised when I realized it. But, once I did, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed it.”_

_“Yeah.” Asahi had hooked his chin over the pillow and smiled. “He has been kind of obvious about it. And so have you.”_

_“I think he knows that I like him. I just don’t get why he hasn’t confessed yet.” Suga had been unnerved that Oikawa hadn’t confessed when he apparently had liked Suga for a long while now._

_“Maybe he has, you just didn’t notice it then.”_

_Suga had had a feeling that Asahi was right. Little by little during the past weeks things had been clicking for him as he had thought about Oikawa and him and how had been with him, acted and spoken, behaved in contrast to how Oikawa was with others. And this too, thinking that Oikawa had already confessed but he just hadn’t noticed it, somehow felt absolutely possible. Another puzzle piece had fallen into place, and Suga had realized how blind and deaf he had been._

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa felt a soft tap on his shoulder and he looked over it and saw Suga’s warm smile. He instantly smiled back. He hadn’t waited alone for long after everyone had left, with some loud grumbling that they were kicked out of the apartment.

“Are you getting hungry?” Suga asked, his hand left lingering on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“A bit.”

“Should we make us some dinner then?”

Oikawa nodded and got up, leaving the TV on for the ominous and adventurous background music provided by the anime he had been engrossed by during the evening.

“How did you get everyone out of the apartment? I thought it was impossible to get rid of the unholy trinity that you had summoned, and their minions.” Suga asked curiously and opened the fridge door to pull out ingredients, while Oikawa settled to lean onto the counter as he observed what Suga was doing.

“I told them to beat it,” he answered and picked up a small container, lifted it up to peer into it, to find out what was inside from the clear bottom. “And I didn’t summon them. They just appeared out of nowhere, it’s like they flock towards the food. Like Gremlins towards water in order to procreate by multiplying. First there’s one, then two, and three and soon there’s enough to overrun and terrorize a small town.”

Suga laughed at the comparison, the sound of it filled with pure amusement. “I can’t believe any of them just left because you told them to.” His tone was borderline incredulous, as it would be if anyone knew their neighbors and their bad habit of sometimes overstaying their welcome.

“Oh, they didn’t,” Oikawa said dramatically. “So I threw a candy bar into the stairwell and once everyone ran after it I locked the door and left them there to fight for it.“

Suga looked at him for a moment, as if he was trying to imagine it. “I simultaneously wish that you’re kidding but also serious.”

“Me too,” Oikawa replied mysteriously. “I sometimes catch myself dreaming of the scenario, though, wondering who would win if it ever came to the lot of them fighting over a candy bar. I have a feeling Yaku would win.”

Suga snickered, probably envisioning the scenario. “How did you really do it? I want to know what works, for future reference. I always have to either threaten them which I hate to do, or bribe them, which I hate even more.”

“I just told them that we wanted to be alone, to spend a quiet night in preparation of your big day tomorrow.” Oikawa described honestly. It had been met some predicted whining, and he had considered fetching the candy bar. But ultimately, Akaashi had silently helped him to shove everyone out, which Oikawa was grateful for.

“Hmm,” Suga hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder how they interpreted the ‘alone’ part of that, how they took it,” he mused, his hands playing with the spoon he had picked up.

“Was that not okay? I didn’t think it was a secret.” Oikawa was careful to pay close attention to Suga’s expression. He was already convinced that whatever had been bothering Suga had something to with at least some of their neighbors. And it seemed to be bothering him.

“It’s fine,” Suga was quick to placate but there was a slight frown in his expression, an upwards tilt in his eyebrows at the middle. “They mean well, right?” He looked at Oikawa as if he was looking for answers for the existence of the universe and everything in it, as if his question was much bigger than it appeared to be on first glance.

“I like to think so.” Oikawa answered gently, knowing it was the answer Suga was looking for.

Suga nodded, a sign of relief in his small smile. “Here,” he sighed and offered the spoon to Oikawa. “Pick out the ones you’d like and add them to the dish,” he instructed, pointing towards the leftovers he had pulled from the fridge. “I’ll cook the rice.”

Oikawa took the offered utensil and went to pick his favorites. “I’m surprised there was anything left in the fridge after Kuroo raided it.”

“There’s always food in our fridge,” Suga said like he had said it about a thousand times before – and he probably had. “If there’s a constant in this world, it’s that there’s always food in our kitchen.”

 

 

...

 

 

_Let’s jump into a DeLorean, and even if it doesn’t hit 88 miles per hour, Doc would definitely say that we’re going to see some serious shit._

 

Suga was sitting on the floor between the living room and the kitchen, a stack of photos in his hand, and more set meticulously on the floor. He was in middle of figuring out the order of his photos for his exhibit. He had planned on just putting them up in whatever order, but Shimizu had once again insisted that he should think of a specific arrangement to showcase them. Suga had had disagreed, but Takeda had convinced him, giving a stack of his printed photos for him to arrange. First, Suga had thought that he’d just shuffle the stack and that’d be it, but as he contemplated what he was doing, he thought he might as well do it well.

And that was how Suga had ended up on the floor, moving photos over and over again to find the order that felt _right,_ when Bokuto came over.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Hey, Bokuto,” Suga greeted the man absentmindedly. He was focused on finding the perfect place for the photo he had taken of Oikawa – the photo replaced by an empty card in fear that someone would come and see it in advance.

“Whatcha doin’?” Bokuto asked as he came to stand next to Suga by the kitchen island. “Are those for your exhibit?” he asked in a hushed voice, almost reverently, as he crouched down.

“Mm, maybe,” Suga answered and frowned  a little in concentration as he moved some photos to the other end of the que before he looked at the newcomer. “Are you here to eat?”

“No,” Bokuto shook his head, his eyes roaming on the photos. “I just came to hang. Akaashi’s coming in a minute too.”

“Okay.” Suga turned back to his work.

“These are amazing, Suga.” Bokuto gestured at the photos, his voice filled with awe. “Seriously. You’re going to make a killing.”

“We’ll see,” Suga said uncertainly. He wasn’t as confident in his photos as Bokuto seemed to be, but he appreciated the support.

“No, I’m sure of it,” Bokuto said as if he was willing it to become true.

Suga smiled and got up. He couldn’t concentrate when he wasn’t alone anymore, and he knew he could finish later. There was still some time before the exhibit, even if Takeda was calling him daily to gently remind him to hurry up not just with this, but in his selection process as well so they could have the photos printed and framed in time. He still hadn’t finalized which photos he actually wanted to show in this exhibit.

“How are you doing, Bo?” he asked as he stretched his back straight, his hands reaching towards the ceiling.

“Good,” Bokuto smiled with his answer as he got up from his crouch. “How about you?” 

“I’m good too,” Suga smiled back, even though he didn’t believe Bokuto at all. The man seemed more serious than usual, and Suga was a bit concerned.

“Can I ask you something?” Bokuto asked then, turning suddenly to fully face Suga. He looked more troubled now than serious, and Suga was reminded how Bokuto wore his heart on his sleeve, how his feelings were always on display for everyone to see. “I don’t really want to ask about it, but I feel like I need to, for my own peace of mind.”

“Okay,” Suga agreed cautiously.

“Do you and Akaashi hang together a lot? Just the two of you?”

Suga reached for his tea cup – the one he had prepared when he started working but had forgotten since – and shook his head as an answer. “No, not a lot,” he said and took a sip. He made a face at the cold tea and went to make another cup of _warm_ tea.

“But some?”

“I guess,” Suga shrugged. The only times he could think of when he had lately been alone with Akaashi were limited to their ‘therapy sessions’, and before that only briefly when he had gotten drunk alone on sake. He wondered why Bokuto was asking about it now, why it bothered him that they were spending some time together. They were just friends, and as far as Suga knew, Akaashi and Bokuto were still completely head over heels for each other. Perhaps Akaashi’s stress over his studies had caused some unwanted friction between the couple.

“Why are you asking about this?” Suga was curious enough to know to ask, but as he suspected, he got an evasive shrug and a non-committal shake of a head as an answer.

“No reason.”

“Is it a problem that we sometimes hang together?” Suga asked carefully, flipping the kettle on to boil the water, again.

“No,” Bokuto lied – yes, Suga could tell, but he couldn’t decipher why he was being lied to.

Suga flashed a frown, but turned around to finish his cup of tea so Bokuto wouldn’t notice it. He was bothered that Bokuto had lied to him. As far as he knew, this was the first time that had ever happened during their friendship. Even when Bokuto had fallen for Akaashi and vice versa, they had all been very frank and upfront about it all with each other. If they had gotten over that rough patch with zero ugliness between each other, why was there suddenly a need to lie?

Suga was too preoccupied with his thoughts on why Bokuto would lie to him, why it wasn’t okay for him and Akaashi to hang together, to notice that Akaashi had come as well. That was until he felt someone place a cap on his head.

“There you go.” Akaashi said calmly and Suga turned around with surprise and question in his expression he didn’t know how to voice. He was a little thrown that Akaashi would just place a snapback on him, backwards too, and then take a step back to evaluate the look, his head tilted to the side as he appraised the make-over.

“Thanks?” Suga’s eyes flitted from Akaashi to Bokuto, who had a small pleased smile on his lips, as if he hadn’t just looked like there might’ve been storm clouds hanging over his head. “What’s with the cap?” Suga asked from Akaashi when he looked at him again.

“I think it’s yours,” Akaashi explained. “We were cleaning our closets and found it. I know it’s not mine and Kou said it’s not his either.”

“I’ve never owned a snapback in my life,” Suga told him and fixed the afore-mentioned piece of headwear a little.

“I can see why,” Bokuto said with an amused lilt, as if he was trying not to snicker.

Suga rolled his eyes and turned back to his tea before it got cold again.

“Well, it’s yours now, even if it wasn’t before,” Akaashi stated and when Suga turned around again, sipping his tea, he saw the pair sit by the island, but with an open chair between them – which was odd.  

 “Hey, guys!” Kuroo called out when he came in, throwing the door closed with too much vigor, causing the doorframe to rattle from the force of it. “Is Oikawa home?” he directed the question to Suga.

Suga glanced towards the hallway, knowing that Oikawa was studying. “He’s in his room.”

“Great,” Kuroo grinned, as if he found the information truly excellent. Suga couldn’t stop himself from imagining a voice saying it with a hiss and tapping their fingertips together with a malicious intent.

“He’s studying. You shouldn’t bother him,” he warned Kuroo, but too late. The man had already crossed the apartment, intent on going to Oikawa’s room.

“I’m not going to bother him. I just want to talk to him.”

“That’s called bothering someone.” Suga informed him, but his words probably fell to deaf ears.

“So,” Suga eyed Bokuto and Akaashi, as if he could magically read words hovering over their heads that told him what was going on with them. “Why are you giving me this?” he pointed towards the snapback on his head.

“You were the first one I saw,” Akaashi said with a shrug.

“You can give it forward if you don’t want to keep it,” Bokuto suggested, running his hand through his hair before he leaned his chin on it. “Whose birthday is next?”

Suga couldn’t remember, and –

“Suga-chan! Hide my snacks before Kuroo gets them!” Oikawa’s voice called suddenly, the sounds of some scuffling accompanying his words.

Suga didn’t hesitate even for a fraction of a second before he had already taken Oikawa’s chips from the cupboard and was throwing the bag under the sink and behind the recycling bins there. He had just managed to close the cabinet when Kuroo rushed into the kitchen, ending his run with a slide across the kitchen floor.

“I like the new look, Suga,” he said conversationally as he went to the tall cupboard and started to search for the snacks Suga had just hidden.

“Thanks,” Suga said flatly, much more interested to see how long Kuroo would search until he gave up than he was about his appearance. He glanced towards the island and saw Bokuto grinning, since he had seen where Suga had hidden the chips, and Akaashi looking as calm, collected and unbothered as he always did.

“I can already tell you, Kuroo, that you’ll never find them.” Bokuto said with a wide smile.

“You can also tell me where they are,” Kuroo suggested as he pulled his head out of the cupboard, his hands empty of course.

“What will you do for me in exchange?”

“Don’t tell him where they are,” Oikawa warned as he walked into the kitchen as well, before Kuroo could offer anything in exchange to Bokuto. Suga presumed he had left his room the same time that Kuroo had, but had chosen to leisurely walk when Kuroo had rushed, knowing that his chips would be hidden in a safe place by the time that Kuroo got to the kitchen.

“What will _you_ do for me?” Bokuto turned to ask Oikawa.

Kuroo gasped. “Traitor!” He was pointing an accusing finger towards his best friend. “I can’t believe you’d turn your coat like that.”

“Relax.” Bokuto motioned with his hands for Kuroo to calm down, and then turned back to Oikawa again. “I won’t tell Kuroo where your chips are if you give them to me.”

“Ooh,” Kuroo said with excitement and he went to wrap his arms loosely around Bokuto’s shoulders from behind. “What’s it going to be, Oikawa? Are you giving the chips to Bokuto or are you giving them to me?”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at the pair. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“No, no,” Kuroo said with false niceness in his voice. “This isn’t blackmailing. This is gently persuading you by presenting you with two choices to choose from.”

Oikawa scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What if I give them to Akaashi?”

“Why would you do that?” Bokuto looked genuinely baffled. “You know he’d just give them to me. He doesn’t eat chips.”

“What kind of chips are we talking about?” Akaashi cut in.

“Licorice flavored.” Oikawa and Kuroo answered in one voice.

“Then I’d definitely give them to Suga. He loves those.”

Suga smiled a small smile. He didn’t think Akaashi would remember that about him and was touched.

“No!” Kuroo wailed and draped his body over the island like a lumpy tablecloth. “I need my trans fats!”

Suga sighed as the bickering between the four started to get out of hand and climbed up on the counter to reach on top of the cabinets, and pulled out a bag of licorice flavored chips that he had hidden into his own stash. “Here, go nuts.” He threw the bag lightly to Kuroo, who had straightened up to look at what he was doing, and jumped down.

“Aah,” Kuroo hugged the bag to his chest. “Thank you, I love you,” he cooed, exaggerating his voice, and gave Suga a wet kiss on his cheek. “You’re my favorite.”

“Yes, I know,” Suga swatted Kuroo away. “Now, go and enjoy the chips.” He pushed Kuroo, who went willingly, towards the living room. Bokuto bounced after him and they both sat down on a couch, the scrunch of chips carrying to the kitchen.

Suga looked at them fondly, and turned around when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Oikawa was looking at him intently, his eyes roaming on the cap and around Suga’s head and face. He gently placed his hands on Suga’s cheeks.

“I have something important to tell you,” he said quietly, seriously, with some concern lacing his voice.

Suga’s eyes dropped to Oikawa’s lips before they moved back to his eyes as he waited patiently. He hadn’t expected Oikawa to touch him so, but the hands on his cheeks were warm, gentle, the touch soft and tender. The touch itself wasn’t anything new – Oikawa had picked up a habit of seeking contact every now and then after he had spent hours upon hours studying, and Suga was used to it by now. That didn’t diminish Suga’s reaction to the touch, though. His heart would always double on its beat, and he felt slightly warmer, as if he had suddenly gotten a fever. What _was_ new was the way Oikawa was looking at him – so impossibly and spectacularly fondly as his eyes roamed on Suga’s face, as if he was trying to memorize every little detail, while his hands cradled Suga’s cheeks.

“You look like a fuckboy.”

Suga burst into laughter from the seriousness in which Oikawa said it in. Oikawa dropped his hands and chuckled silently with him. There was a soft smile on his face that Suga could vaguely call back to, something he could remember seeing Oikawa smile with whenever they were having fun and laughing together.

“Thanks,” Suga said with an amused grin.

Oikawa eyed the snapback for a moment, before he reached behind Suga’s head and turned the hat around.

“Better?” Suga asked when he was wearing the hat the right way, as it was intentioned to be worn.

“Much better.” Oikawa emphasized his words with widened eyes and a new inflection to his tone.

“I could just take it off too,” Suga said as he did so. He really never wore caps or snapbacks, favoring the soft beanies over anything else he would consider something to be worn on a head.

Oikawa reached towards him, and Suga could feel his fingers comb through and flatten the strands he presumed had stuck up when he took the snapback off. He felt an instant calm fill him at the fingers running through his hair, as soft as the motion was, and tried not to sigh too audibly.

“Hey, guys,” Bokuto called and they both turned to look at the man who snapped a picture of them with his phone. The unmistakable fake shutter sound made Suga look away instantly. “You look cute together like that,” Bokuto commented as he lowered his phone. Akaashi was nodding in agreement by the island, while Kuroo grinned like an evil madman watching his greatest creation come alive.

“Thanks,” Oikawa smiled. “Can you forward that photo to me?”

“Sure,” Bokuto agreed and did just that while Suga stepped back from Oikawa to hide his rapidly beating heart in case anyone of them, or Oikawa specifically, had Superman’s hearing. He leaned his back on the counter and played with the snapback in his hands, trying to calm down from the way Oikawa had been looking at him.

“The photo reminds me,” Kuroo spoke up. “We went to play volleyball with some of the boys from school and work, and Hinata received the ball with his face.”

“Why does the photo remind you of that?” Oikawa asked. Suga could imagine the slight frown on his face from just his voice.

“Because I have the whole thing on video.” Kuroo explained. “Want to see?” He was already pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Definitely.” Oikawa went to the living room to join the housewives, giving Suga a chance to take a deep calming breath.

“You should tell him,” Akaashi’s voice whispered from beside him and Suga looked up to see that Akaashi had moved from the island and was standing next to him.  

“I know,” Suga whispered back and chanced a glance at Oikawa, who was leaning over the back of the couch to watch the video Kuroo had filmed.

“And you should tell him soon. There’s...” Akaashi paused, as if he wasn’t sure if he should say anything further. “I think it’d be better for everyone if you told him as soon as possible.”

Suga wondered Akaashi’s wording. “What do you mean?”

“I just think you should tell Oikawa you like him and end the suffering for both of you.” Akaashi kept whispering, but still Suga was paranoid that the others would hear their conversation.

But he was intrigued to know what Akaashi had meant and lowered his voice even more to ask, “Both of us?”

“Just trust me on this.” Akaashi said calmly.

“Okay,” Suga nodded with some hesitance. He looked at the laughing trio in the living room again. “I don’t want to just blurt it out though.”

“But it would seem spontaneous like that. Isn’t it kind of romantic to just be spontaneous, to just confess during a dinner or something, to just tell him without any big build up? If you plan it too much, there’s a chance it’ll get ruined.”

“Maybe,” Suga said, sunk in thought. “Isn’t that what happened with you and Bokuto when he came up with the romantic dinner and set a huge fire in his apartment by mistake?”

“Maybe,” Akaashi looked away as he said.

Suga smiled. “Here.” He could remember the despair Bokuto had been in for weeks, as long as it took for Akaashi’s burn wounds to heal. It had once and for all convinced Suga that Bokuto genuinely really liked Akaashi. Still smiling with the memory, he put the snapback on Akaashi, who took it off immediately with a scrunched nose.

Suga laughed. “Why’d you take it off? It suited you.”

“You know I don’t wear caps,” Akaashi said tonelessly as he ran his fingers through his curls.

“You and your curls,” Suga said with a small shake of his head and lightly punched Akaashi on his arm.

Akaashi just looked away again, towards the living room this time, and stopped. “What?” he asked almost curiously and Suga turned to look as well. Oikawa, Kuroo and Bokuto were all looking at them with a mix of expressions.

“Nothing,” Kuroo said, his tone suggesting the opposite. “I just got a weird flashback.”

Suga understood instantly the weird looks and took a deliberate step as imperceptibly as possible to give more distance between him and Akaashi, and decided to make another cup of tea. The one he had made earlier probably already cold again.

But it wasn’t just what Kuroo had said, that made Suga move away, but the way Bokuto was looking a little sad and broken. What was Bokuto so worried about? He and Akaashi were just friends – there was nothing more, no deeper feelings left between them.  

But it had been the way Oikawa had looked as well – weirdly enough, a little jealous.

Or was it weird? For Oikawa to look jealous, Suga wondered as he prepared his tea, ignoring all the chatter going in the living room, the voices speaking of watching the video again, and someone remembering that Suga had once captured Hinata’s face in a photo right after a similar incident had happened a year or so ago.

He contemplated on the various reasons he could come up with for Oikawa to look jealous, and he was struck with a thought: wasn’t his jealousy just more proof of what Suga was already suspecting, every day more and more – that Oikawa might actually like him, have those deeper affectionate feelings for?

He turned around with his cup of tea when it was ready, and leaned back against the counter and blew into the cup. Oikawa, Kuroo and Bokuto were still laughing about something they were watching on Kuroo’s phone, while Akaashi had the smallest smile on his lips as he watched the same clip. When Oikawa looked up and locked eyes with him, Suga felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew from experience he didn’t get those shivers just from anybody.

And that finally made up his mind. He was going to confess, and as his eyes flitted by his laptop, he made up his mind of how.

 

_Okay, kids! It’s time to get back into the DeLorean and back to the present now that the plan has been set in motion. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to do without the flying cars or self-drying jackets, at least for now._

 

 

...

 

 

As Suga mixed the ingredients in the bowl, Oikawa watched him, admired him, loved everything he could see on the surface and underneath it. He realized he couldn’t just see and hear and touch Suga, and he couldn’t wait until he’d get to taste him, but he could smell him too.

“Why do you smell so good?”

Suga looked at him with a funny expression. “Excuse me?”

“You smell good,” Oikawa repeated his sentiment and made a show of going closer to Suga and smelling his neck. Suga shied away from it by lifting his shoulder, giggling a little and Oikawa presumed he had been tickled. “Why do you smell good?”

“How should I know? Maybe it’s just the fabric softener,” Suga shrugged when Oikawa stepped away, the hand he had placed on Suga’s waist around the back trailed along it to settle just a fraction away from his hip.

“It’s not your clothes,” Oikawa denied the possibility, smelling at Suga’s shirt covered shoulder, and then his neck. Suga was tickled again, giggling at the sensation. “It’s you.”

“Well, I haven’t done anything special today, so I really don’t know why I would smell especially good,” Suga said with a light voice, a small smile on his lips.

“Maybe it’s just you then.”

“Or maybe you’re having a heart attack. Apparently, you can smell weird things right before you suffer one.”

“Maybe,” Oikawa nodded along with a thoughtful purse of his lips. “Do you have the glitter ready in case I collapse onto the floor clutching my left arm? And are you ready to cry over my dead body as I expect you to?”

“I think I’d call the ambulance first, before I pick you up in my arms and cry over your half-dead body. That’s what everyone does wrong in the dramas – they don’t call the ambulance, but start to sob immediately. They’ve clearly got their priorities straight. First cry over your loved one that is dying, because it’s more useful to their character development to be sad and depressed than helpful and able to function during a crisis.” Suga gestured along with his hands as he spoke, intermixed with the cooking he was performing as if it was second nature to him.

Oikawa smiled during Suga’s ramble, wondering where it had come from for a moment before he remembered Suga’s ability to go on impossible tangents and embellished stories, and realized that it could extent to rambling about any random topic too.

“How many different drama shows have you seen?”

“Blame my mom,” Suga said seriously and reached for a measuring cup on a higher shelf. Oikawa’s eyes drifted down to see how Suga’s shirt rose with his movement. “She used to watch a lot of dramas when I was growing up. I swear she’s seen all of them, and by extension, I’ve seen some of them.”

“But wouldn’t the dramas lose that aspect of being a ‘drama show’ if no one died? If everyone lived, there would be no more drama shows.”

“Good,” Suga stated immediately. “Can we pitch that idea to the production companies?” He looked at Oikawa hopefully.

“And put a lot of actors out of work? And leave a lot of people with nothing to watch?” Oikawa knew that he wasn’t usually this considerate towards other people, especially if he didn’t know them. But something about Suga brought that out of him.

“That would be cruel, wouldn’t it?” Suga asked with a small grimace. “Can we at least petition for them to stop making the really bad ones?”

Oikawa suppressed his laughter with a weird smile when he saw Suga’s expression – it was as if he had just tasted something back. “Sure, you write it up and I’ll sign it.”

“Good,” Suga said as he smiled back. “Can you hand me the bamboo shoots?”

Oikawa reached for the desired ingredients.

“The heart attack and the drama shows aside, I still think you smell good,” Oikawa returned to the topic and moved closer to smell Suga again. He could tell Suga was expecting it now, and changed tactics, by blowing air softly, like a feather’s touch, at Suga’s nape.

Suga tilted his whole upper body away, lifting his shoulders to shield himself from the tickling sensation. “What are you doing?” he laughed as he stepped away from the counter in search of safe distance from Oikawa.

“Nothing,” Oikawa fibbed casually and reached toward Suga before he could get any further and tightened his arms around him for a second and pressed his nose to Suga’s neck. “It’s just cute how ticklish you are.”

“Right,” Suga laughed, probably unable to see anything particularly cute about his ticklishness. “And people think that _I’m_ weird.” He tapped lightly on Oikawa’s arm, and he loosened his hold enough for Suga to step away.

“You _are_ weird,” Oikawa stressed. “So wonderfully weird.”

Suga let out an amused chuckle. “You should coin that phrase. You say it a lot.”

“I happen to like your weirdness, so I think it bears repeating.”                      

“It really doesn’t need to be announced to the rest of the world, though.”

“That I like that you’re weird?” Oikawa asked for clarification.

“No, that you think I’m weird.”

“Excuse me,” Oikawa went to the island and picked up one of Suga’s ‘thank you for your critique’ –cards. “I think that ship will sail at once when you hand these out at the exhibit.”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t hand them out?” Suga took the card from Oikawa and put it down onto the pile Oikawa had picked it up from? “Because I already made plans to empty a bottle of sake when I read them.”

“Is that supposed to be just alone-fun?” Oikawa was careful not to look too hopeful or disappointed.

“I wouldn’t mind the company,” Suga replied softly. “As long as it’s just you and no one else.” Suga looked straight at Oikawa as he said it, and Oikawa recognized the feeling behind Suga’s eyes – it was the same feeling he felt whenever he looked at Suga.

Oikawa could feel the card Suga had given him earlier that day burn in his pocket, and he desperately wanted to know what Suga had written. But he had made a promise that he wouldn’t read it until tomorrow, and he was intent on keeping that promise. Suga must’ve had his reasons to ask him not to read it until then.

 

 

...

 

 

_“Honestly, in my opinion, if they had to bet on something between us, I think it would’ve been easier to bet on who confesses first, me or Oikawa.”_

_“There might be a bet on that,” Asahi had thought out loud, his finger hovering over the remote, hesitating whether he was ready to continue. “We just don’t know about it.”_

_Suga had dropped his head back in defeat. He hadn’t been able to see a way out of the bet, or around it, or any way to be able to pretend that the bet didn’t exist. He had come to know about it, and now he had to deal with it._

_Suddenly Akaashi’s words that he should confess to Oikawa as soon as possible, made a lot more sense to Suga._

 

...

 

 

“What do you want to drink?”

“What are you drinking?” Suga glanced over quickly as he asked and Oikawa held up a bottle of wine a little higher in the air.

“Do you want something else? I know you don’t really like to drink anything alcoholic.”

“No, I’ll have a glass of wine as well. I mean, we’re celebrating, right?”

Oikawa picked up two glasses and went to set them down on the table. “That’s true.”

“Besides, you seem to like it when I drink. You get weirdly affectionate of me when I do.”

Oikawa smiled with his own private joke, bordering on a smirk that puzzled Suga.

“What’s so funny?”

“That you think I’m affectionate when you’re drunk,” Oikawa answered simply, leaving Suga still in the puzzled state. “It’s you who gets really affectionate when you’re drunk,” Oikawa added when he seemed to notice Suga’s expression.

“I am?” Suga set the wok pan on the table. The food was ready, the table set, and mood just about right with the dim lighting.

Oikawa nodded. “You’re always clinging onto me.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind it,” Oikawa smiled, looking as charming as ever as he poured the wine. “I actually like it.” He looked at Suga as he said it, his smile soft

“Sit down,” Suga instructed Oikawa to do, his hand steering Oikawa on his shoulder closer to the table.

“Where are you going?”

Suga was moving to the living room, towards the stereo. “I’m going to put some music on.”

“Why?”

_To avoid awkward silences,_ Suga thought, just in case one would fall during the dinner. “For fun, for the mood,” he answered, though, as he pressed shuffle.

A loud hardcore metal scream pierced the air and Suga hurried to pause the music.

“The mood is set, alright,” Oikawa snickered, and kept snickering in short intervals – once he stopped to breathe, he would start snickering again.

Suga burst into laughter as well as he searched for a softer playlist. “Sorry about that.”

“I didn’t know you were into death metal,” Oikawa commented from the kitchen while Suga tried to contain his laughter so he could concentrate on finding something else to play.

“I’m really not.”

“What’s next, yodeling?”

Suga doubled over with his laughter. “Stop making me laugh,” he managed say instead of laughing, only to laugh right after it. “It’s distracting.”

“Or disco,” Oikawa suggested, his tone indicating he said it with a tongue on his cheek. “That could be a great mood setter too.”

Suga kept laughing as he struggled to find fitting music. He finally found one that seemed promising and when the first notes drifted from the speakers and filled the empty silence surrounding them in the apartment, he approved.

“Disco really isn’t the mood that I was going for,” he said as he went back to the kitchen and sat down.

“But this is?” Oikawa asked gently – apparently he approved the choice too.

“It’s closer,” Suga said with a series of small nods.

“Okay,” Oikawa nodded as well and sipped his wine. “But once you’ve emptied your glass, we need to put on Noya’s k-pop playlist.”

“Why?” Suga asked curiously. He lifted the lid on the pan to the side and let Oikawa take food first.

“I want to see you dance again,” Oikawa answered as he filled his plate.

“I’ve done that?”  Suga was stunned – he had no recollection of ever dancing, to any music.

“Mm-hm,” Oikawa nodded with a wicked smile. “You don’t remember?”

Suga searched within his memories, wracked his brain, but came up empty. “I must’ve blocked that.”

Oikawa chucked. “Well, I need to see it again.”

“I can’t believe it looked that good.” Suga shook his head in disbelief and closed the lid once he had filled his plate. He caught Oikawa’s eyes as they traveled along his body.

“It did,” Oikawa replied with a somewhat satisfied smile.

Suga considered it as he chewed his food. “Okay,” he agreed and swallowed. “If you dance with me.”

“I don’t dance,” Oikawa refused immediately.

“Yes, you do,” Suga said softly, gently reminding Oikawa of a particular afternoon. It was an afternoon that Suga thought of in a different light now that he knew Oikawa liked him.

“That was different. I don’t dance to pop music.”

 

 

...

 

 

_Suga was lying on the couch, absent-mindedly playing with strands of his hair, bored out of his mind. Soft music was playing, filling the empty silence that had surrounded him just a moment ago. It had a melancholy feel to it that Suga recognized when he focused on it, and it was beautiful enough for tears to well in Suga’s eyes as he let the feel of the music fill him._

_“Dance with me?”_

_Suga opened his eyes in surprise and saw Oikawa standing next to the couch, offering his hand for Suga to take._

_“You want to dance with me?” Suga asked with uncertainty, hesitating whether to take Oikawa’s hand._

_Oikawa nodded, his surprisingly gentle eyes fixed on Suga’s._

_“Okay.” Suga took Oikawa’s hand and let him pull him up from the couch. “Why do you want to dance with me?” he asked curiously._

_“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Oikawa answered as he pulled Suga closer and placed a secure arm around his back. “You have to at least do something romantic, right?” he asked with a cheeky grin._

_“I guess,” Suga rolled his eyes. He didn’t really get Valentine’s Day, or why there was such a craze surrounding it. Maybe that was just because he had never dated anyone around that time of the year._

_Oikawa moved his hands on Suga’s cheeks. “Stop thinking so much,” he said gently, looking straight to Suga’s eyes, as if he could tell that Suga was about to rationalize what they were about to do, and how it could have a significant meaning and a slight change into their friendship. “Just listen to the music. And feel it.”_

_Suga closed his eyes and took a deep breath to let it out slowly. He focused on listening to the music, and he didn’t even notice how Oikawa had wrapped his arms around him until they were already slowly moving in a small circle._

_“I didn’t know you could dance.” Suga placed his hands gently on Oikawa's shoulders._

_“It’s not that hard to slowly spin in place or move in a circle.” Oikawa pointed out in a low voice, smiling a little._

_Suga smiled and stepped closer to Oikawa to wrap his arms more securely around his neck. “No, it isn’t,” he agreed and rested his head on Oikawa’s shoulder. He felt how Oikawa’s arms tightened around him, how his hand grabbed his shirt._

_He felt safe in Oikawa’s arms, in his embrace, safer than he ever had with anyone else. And he knew that he would remember this precious moment for the rest of his life. Even if he got dementia, he’d remember this. It was engraved into his very soul, and there it would remain until his last living day._

_He felt warm, content, even happy – as if everything in the world and in his life had clicked and fallen into their right places, everything aligned and perfect and smooth when he had Oikawa’s arms wrapped around him._

_It felt right to be held like this by Oikawa, to be pressed close enough to share body heat, to almost feel each other’s wildly beating hearts._

_“This is nice,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and let Oikawa lead. “Thank you for asking me to dance.”_

_“You’re welcome,” Oikawa whispered back, his breath moving Suga’s hair along with his words, causing shivers to run gently under Suga’s skin. He felt the shivers in places he didn’t know even existed in his body, the smallest nerve endings lighting up and buzzing with simultaneous anticipation and pleasure._

_“We can dance like this whenever you want to,” Oikawa said after a spell, his voice smooth and gentle, and his caress soft as his thumb moved slowly up and down on Suga’s hipbone._

_“I’ll keep that in mind,” Suga replied in kind and just as quietly. He couldn’t think of the next time, though, not when his mind was immersed in the sweet moment they were sharing._

_He was indescribably almost euphoric that Oikawa didn’t stop leading their slow dance when the song changed to one with a more hopeful note in it._

 

 

It would be cruel to describe how they had been interrupted, in the ever-continuing series of cosmic jokes, so it’s better to just move on.

 

 

...

 

 

They dined in comfortable atmosphere – the easy and fun conversation, the soft and warm looks, the sweet and fond gestures.

Suga leaned back when he felt full, unable to eat any more, and sighed contently. He was feeling warm and happy, and he wished he could stop time to spend an eternity with Oikawa like this.

“Thanks for the dinner,” Oikawa said when he finished his food.

“Thank you too,” Suga said back with a small smile. “You helped with the cooking.”

“We’re an excellent cook.”

Suga chuckled at Oikawa’s choice of words. “I think so too.”

They shared a short moment where they just smiled at each other, the music playing in the background turning the atmosphere quite romantic.

“So,” Oikawa gently moved on and leaned his crossed arms on the table. “Is it time for the k-pop yet?” He eyed Suga’s wine glass.

Suga laughed at the thought of actually dancing to some girl group’s song. “I’m not drunk enough for that.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa hummed as he leaned his cheek to his palm. “I really love your laugh,” he said softly and let out a quiet sigh.  

Suga wondered briefly if Oikawa had used the wrong verb for a moment, until he recognized the smile from a couple of weeks ago – when they had cuddled on the couch unintentionally and he had laughed about something and Oikawa had looked at him in a particular way that he couldn’t pinpoint then and had asked about. But now he knew, now he had an answer for that question – and only ninety-nine thousand and nine hundred ninety-nine remained. “Why?”

“It makes me happy. And I like that it makes me happy.”

Suga eyed the glass of wine Oikawa had been drinking and was forced to write off drunkenness as a reason for Oikawa’s loose lips and surprisingly genuine words.

“And therefore, by irrefutable direct line of action, that’s why I like you.”

“You say that a lot,” Suga said, and when he caught the look of confusion on Oikawa’s face, he continued to explain. “That you like me.”

“That’s because I do like you.”

Suga looked at Oikawa, at the way his expression went from smirk to fond smile to a small frown of disappointment.

“There’s dessert, right?” Oikawa asked then, maybe in a lieu of changing the topic when Suga didn’t reply to his... Was it a confession, Suga wondered. He could remember other instances like this one, where Oikawa had said that he liked him, and how he had written off every instance away as nothing but amicable ‘like’, the kind you could have for a friend or a roommate. But now, knowing what he knew, Suga wondered if Oikawa truly had tried to confess before, he just hadn’t been able to realize it then.

“Of course there’s dessert. It wouldn’t be a celebration in your honor without some milk bread,” Suga spoke with a smile as he got up with their dishes and went to drop them into the sink.

“I thought I smelled it earlier when I woke up from my nap.”

Suga picked up the bread milk he had made earlier that day and carried it carefully to the table, setting it down right in front of Oikawa. “Honestly, I was surprised that you didn’t wake up when I made it, I wasn’t all that quiet while I baked. It seemed as if you had slipped into a coma, not fallen asleep.”

Oikawa scratched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I guess I really had some build up lack of sleep to take care of.”

“It’s good that you did, since you’re going to be busy with work soon enough.”

“But it could take a while for me to get a job,” Oikawa pointed out. He wasn’t wrong, Suga knew, but he also knew that Oikawa could do anything he set his mind to, and was more than just hopeful – he was confident that Oikawa could find a job in no time.

“Have you called Ukai about the job interview?” he asked then, sitting down again, feeling pleased to see how eagerly Oikawa cut into the milk bread.

“No, not yet. It’s weekend.”

“But you’re going to call?” Suga made sure. He really did have an honest feeling that Oikawa would be an excellent coach, given some time to get used to standing by the edge of the court and not on it.

“It wouldn’t hurt to, right?” Oikawa glanced at Suga as he picked up his glass.

“No, I don’t think it would. Just remember to be a little bit less pompous than you usually are.”

“What do you mean ‘pompous’?” Oikawa asked and sipped the wine.

Suga looked at Oikawa softly for a moment, then at Oikawa’s hand and gently pushed down his little finger to rest against the glass.

Oikawa purposefully lifted the little finger even higher immediately, and Suga could tell how he tried to suppress his smirk.

He chuckled at Oikawa’s ‘pompousness’, as he had described it. “Maybe pretentiousness would’ve been a better fitting word, but I like that you got what I meant,” he said with a smile and leaned his crossed arms on the table.

“And you’re lucky that I like you.”

Suga rested his cheek on his hand. “What would happen if I wasn’t that lucky?”

“You don’t want to find out. A person once did, and he was never heard of again.”

“But I just saw Iwaizumi the other day,” Suga frowned to fake the confusion. This time he could see how Oikawa struggled to keep his expression vague and serious, his lips twitching to a smile. “Is it good?” Suga gestured with his chin towards the piece of milk bread Oikawa had broken off and was in middle of shoving into his mouth, as if he had been starved and it was the first food he had been offered for weeks.

Oikawa made a series of nods. “You have ruined me for anyone else’s milk bread, and I may have to lock you up to make sure I get to enjoy it for the rest of my life.”

“There’s no need to turn me into Rapunzel,” Suga said with a smile.

“Are you saying that you’d happily make me milk bread for the rest of my life just from the goodness of your heart?”

“Something like that.”

Oikawa looked pleased, preened, proud of himself, as if he had just won a competition or had been shown as an image in the magic mirror when the Evil Queen asked “mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all”.

“Why aren’t you eating any?” Oikawa asked when he broke off another piece.  

“I’m too full,” Suga said with a groan and lolled his head to the side to emphasize how unable he was to put anything inside him.

“You’re really missing out if you don’t at least try a small piece.”

Suga considered it, and found that he might just be able to fit the smallest crumb into his stomach. He reached over to Oikawa’s piece and took a little bit.

“Good, isn’t it?” Oikawa asked.

“Hmm,” Suga hummed in thought, and at the same time brushed Oikawa’s ankle with his feet, and left it there.

“Okay, I know you don’t like to praise yourself,” Oikawa seemed to catch on why Suga was hesitating. “but it’s okay to admit that you’re good at something.”

“It is good,” Suga admitted quietly and brushed the crumbs off his hands on Oikawa’s sleeve.

Oikawa looked down at his arm and then up to Suga to say, without any inflection, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Suga smiled back politely. “I think it’s good that we’re introducing good manners to our kids,” he said then, eyeing the two small stuffed toy ducks on the shelf.

“Remember when I brought them?”

“Mm-hm,” Suga hummed. “I know you didn’t win them, though, but bought.”

“Who told you?” Oikawa’s voice was sharp as he demanded to know.

“I’ll give you one guess.” Suga smiled mischievously.

“I’m going to kill Kuroo.” Oikawa stated flatly, but there was an evil glint in his eyes.

“I don’t really care how you got them,” Suga placated, looking fondly at their kids. “They’re still adorable.”

 

 

...

 

 

_”Honey, we’re home!” Oikawa called out when the front door opened and Suga lowered his laptop screen to rest his crossed arms on the island he was working by._

_“How was the carnival?” Suga asked as he watched four men try and cram themselves into the small space by the front door to take off their shoes at the same time and not to trip themselves or each other._

_“Cold,” Kuroo answered his question as he stepped into the living room rubbing his hands together in an effort to try and warm them up. “Whose brilliant idea was it to have a fair in February?”_

_“Whose even brighter idea was it for us to go?” Oikawa shot back with meaningfully raised eyebrows as he levelled Kuroo with a look._

_“Did you at least fun?” Suga asked kindly._

_“Yep,” Bokuto said cheerily as he filled the kettle with water. “I found a whole new element of excitement about going into the rides when you’re afraid that something is so frozen it won’t function properly but you won’t know it until something bad happens and you’re already plummeting to your death.”_

_“We really have to stop you from spending so much time with Akaashi.” Kuroo commented, which earned him a slap to his chest by Suga._

_“Ow,” Kuroo said flatly, already used to Suga’s abuse. “Do you have any hot chocolate powder? I feel like having hot chocolate instead of tea.”_

_“I don’t know,” Suga answered truthfully. “Check the cupboard.”_

_Kuroo went to the cupboard as advised and started rummaging while Bokuto boiled the water and Akaashi did whatever he was doing with his phone, standing a little to the side._

_“I won something for you,” Oikawa said mysteriously as he leaned his hip on the island next to Suga, his hands behind his back._

_“Did you win it for me after you saw what the price was, or did you play something and when you won you thought, ‘oh hey, Suga might like this’?”_

_Oikawa brought his right hand from behind his back, holding a small stuffed duck that made Suga smile. “The latter,” Oikawa said, brandishing the duck on his open palm. “His name is Shizzle Shazzle.”_

_Suga chuckled and took the offered toy. “You won a duckling?” he asked with a smile as he examined the toy._

_“And the former.” Oikawa brought his left hand out, holding another stuffed duck that looked shaggy compared to the other one, and Suga loved it. “He is Hiplito Il Piplit.”_

_Suga gasped when he saw the shaggy duck with frazzled wings and frayed looking texture. “I love him,” he cooed and took the other duck and handed the first back to Oikawa. “He’s the cutest thing ever,” he kept gushing and pressed the soft toy duckling against his cheek._

_“Are you favoring one of our kids over the other one?” Oikawa asked. “Because I don’t think I’m okay with it and may have to file for a divorce.”_

_Suga brought the duckling he was holding closer to himself so Oikawa couldn’t take it away from him. “If we get divorced you can keep Shizzle Shazzle. I’ll raise Hip-Pip alone.” He pet the stuffed toy affectionately._

_“We should at least share custody. I don’t want to separate them from each other,” Oikawa suggested. “Or we could stay together for the sake of our kids, until they fly out of the nest,” he said and booped Suga’s nose with Shizzle Shazzle._

_“Is it worth it, though, if we don’t love each other anymore?” Suga asked with a smile, Shizzle Shazzle nuzzling his neck, motioned by Oikawa’s hand._

_“Who said I don’t love you anymore?” Oikawa asked genuinely, with too much feeling in his tone to appear and sound like it was a real part of their joking and banter, and put the Shizzle Shazzle in Suga’s arms with Hip-Pip._

_It had been Suga’s first clue that Oikawa’s feelings towards him ran deeper than he had originally thought. The way Oikawa was leaning closer. The way he was looking at him. The way Oikawa seemed more himself when he was around Suga than he was around others._

_All of it made Suga feel warm inside, somehow loved, and he couldn’t get enough of it_.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa was looking at him like _that_ again, and Suga closed his eyes to revel in the feeling – he let it fill him, he let his heart flutter to its content, and he let out a slow exhale to savor the gentle weight of Oikawa’s gaze.

“You’re thinking again,” Oikawa said softly. “What were you thinking?” He ran his index finger under Suga’s chin.

The gesture made Suga smile when he answered. “I was thinking about getting started on the dishes.”

“I’ll help you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Suga said as he got up and placed his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. “Take your time, I got it.”

Suga took some of their dishes with him when he went to the sink. He could hear Oikawa hurry with his piece of bread milk, and the thought that Oikawa wanted to help with the dishes, that they’d do that together too, made him smile.

“Did you know it’s white day today?” Oikawa asked from the table as Suga filled the sink with water and poured soap in.

“Mm,” he confirmed. “Did you give lots of gifts?”

“Who would I give one when I didn’t receive any?” Oikawa’s voice was coming closer and closer and soon Suga felt his body heat behind him when he carefully put their glasses into the sink. “Besides, I’ve spent the whole day home.”

“If you could give a gift to anyone, who would you give one?” Suga was curious to know, maybe just a little bit hoping that Oikawa would say his name.

“Anyone in the world?” Oikawa asked as he brought the rest of the dishes.

Suga nodded. “Anyone in the world.”

Oikawa took his time to think about his answer, rinsing the dishes Suga washed. “You.”

Suga looked at Oikawa, and let his words sink in. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh and smiled when he opened them. He let the brush fall into the soapy water and dried his hands into the small towel hanging by the cabinet before he turned to face Oikawa.

“Can I –“ He stopped to make sure it really was what he wanted to ask, if it really was something he _could_  ask. Oikawa waited patiently by him, looking at him curiously, and Suga could tell he was trying to interpret and catalog every shift in expression he could see. The more Suga thought about it, the more he wanted to ask, the more he wanted to – “Can I kiss you?”

Oikawa’s expression was indecipherable, but it held something warm within it that gave Suga courage when he noticed the small, slow nod Oikawa did.

He stepped closer to Oikawa and reached towards him to place his hands gently on Oikawa’s cheeks, his eyes trained on Oikawa’s lips until the last second that their lips touched and Suga closed his eyes.

The kiss was nothing like Suga had thought it would be like. Soft, sweet press of their lips together, short and lingering at the same time, all-consuming in the way it filled all of Suga’s senses.

If there was a perfect kiss in any person’s own fairytale storybook, this would be The Kiss in Suga’s.

In a way, he had waited for this for a long time, thought about what it would be like, how it would feel and taste. However, what he hadn’t counted on was Oikawa’s surprise. But it couldn’t be a surprise, since Suga had asked him, and he had nodded his consent. And yet, during the short but sweet kiss that Suga felt was long awaited for, like a deep and slow sigh was that his body made when it finally, _finally,_ was able to have this experience, Oikawa merely stayed where he was – kissing back, yes, but standing still and unmoving, his hands somewhere where they couldn’t reach Suga.

Their break apart was sweet and slow, their last breaths lingering on each other lips, the shared moment tender and loving in a way that made Suga feel warm inside. But he worried about Oikawa’s initial shock during the kiss. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t okay,” he said quietly, horrified that he had understood everything wrong, that not only him but everyone had been wrong about Oikawa liking him. He dropped his hands and took a step back to give Oikawa room, but Oikawa stepped after him and grabbed his waist to bring him closer before –

Suga couldn’t even gasp into the kiss Oikawa pulled him into.

“You just surprised me with it,” Oikawa broke away to say, his lips brushing on Suga’s with every word. Suga could see his eyes were closed and he made the move to kiss Oikawa back.

He moved his right hand behind Oikawa’s neck, while his left one grabbed onto Oikawa’s sleeve in a tight hold, afraid that he would lose his grip on Oikawa. He was adamant to never stop kissing him, to never let go. Because this was _everything_ he had hoped for, the kiss was _everything_ he had yearned for.

 

And it was a kiss that could start a million more.

 

 

...

 

 

_“Suga?”_

_“Hm?” Suga made a noise and turned his head a fraction to the side to let Daichi know he was listening, even if he was lying on Daichi’s couch like a sloth, twirling his hair around his fingers, looking like he was lost in thought._

_“What are you thinking about?”_

_“I really want to kiss Oikawa,” he answered honestly, maybe a little too frankly._

_“Okay,” Daichi said with an amused voice and a hint of a chuckle. “Kiss him then.”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“He doesn’t know that I like him.”_

_“So kiss him and then tell him.”_

_“There isn’t always time. What if something happens as we’re kissing and I don’t get the chance to say a word?”_

_“I think he’d still get that you wouldn’t kiss him unless you liked him.”_

_“He might not.” Suga sat up on the couch and turned to sit like a proper civil human being. “Remember when you started dating Iwaizumi and I first crushed on Oikawa and how you warned me about him and his habit of going to clubs?”_

_“Yeah...” Daichi said slowly, as if he was trying to follow where Suga was leading the conversation._

_“How he’d kiss some random guy and fuck him and then never saw him again? How a random guy would kiss him and they’d have sex and never saw each other again?”_

_“I get your point,” Daichi said calmly. “But you two are more than two random strangers in a club.”_

_“I’m still worried that he wouldn’t get it. I want to confess that I like him before I kiss him.” Suga spoke surely, knowing it was the only way to go about it. “I just don’t know how to do that,” he added in a whisper._

_Daichi was silent for the longest moment._

_“Daichi?” Suga looked at him expectantly. It wasn’t usual for Daichi to sink so deep into his thoughts when they were hanging together, and Suga was a little worried. “Are you okay?” Suga peered at him curiously._

_Daichi cleared his throat when he surfaced back to the room. “You could show him,” he suggested in a soft voice._

_Suga didn’t understand what he meant. “Show him?”_

_“I can tell that you’re falling for him,” Daichi said with a gentle smile, looking actually happy for Suga. “So show it to him, in your exhibit.”_

_Suga closed his eyes with a sigh and fell back to lie on the couch._

_“I bet you already have numerous photos of him.”_

_“I do,” Suga admitted in a whisper, twirling his hair again. But which one could he use? There were already too many photos in general for him to choose from to show in his exhibit that he couldn’t decide on. And now he’d have to try and choose one of the many he had of Oikawa too?_

_“Honestly Suga,” Daichi chuckled. “If you want to kiss Oikawa you should just kiss him.”_

_Suga curled on his side. “Can’t I just stay here and hibernate like Sleeping Beauty? And never wake up because my prince doesn’t even know he’s my prince?”_

_Daichi chuckled again and moved onto the couch to sit by Suga’s legs. “I bet he’d run straight to you in a heartbeat once he heard that you’ve pricked you finger.” He spoke in a kind voice that comforted Suga, his hand warm and secure on Suga’s knee._

_“But would he know to kiss me?” He turned his head to look at Daichi as he asked._

_“I’d bet good money that he has friends to advise him to do so.”_

_“You shouldn’t bet money,” Suga turned his head back to stare at the wall by the TV. “With the fear of losing money, anyone would do anything to make sure that they win.”_

_“I’m actually sure that I’d win on this bet.”_

_“Isn’t everyone sure of their win when they bet on something?” Suga made a counter-point, too lost in his lamentation to fully take in Daichi’s words and their meaning._

 

 

...

 

 

Sadly, and very unfortunately, in a series of unfair cosmic chances, their kiss was interrupted.

They stepped away from each other in false sense that they had been doing something they shouldn’t be doing and turned to the door when it banged shut.

“Suga,” Akaashi started, sounding a little breathless. “Can I talk to you?”

“Now?” Suga glanced at Oikawa. Now was the worst time for him to go anywhere or talk to anyone who wasn’t Oikawa.

“It’s important,” Akaashi said with trembling lips.

Suga could tell he was serious, that he really needed to talk to someone, and soon if not right that moment.

“Okay,” Suga said, but hesitated if it really was okay. He glanced at Oikawa again, and saw that he had turned back to their dishes. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” he gently suggested to Akaashi.

Akaashi sniffled. “Can I borrow a coat?”

“Of course,” Suga nodded. He could tell that whatever was troubling Akaashi had something to do with Bokuto. It was unheard of for the two of them to fight, and Suga was worried, even though he had lately noticed something troubling between the couple. “Take whichever,” he gestured towards the coatrack by the door before he went to check on Oikawa by the sink. 

“Are we okay?” he whispered, his hand steady and engaging on Oikawa’s arm.

Oikawa nodded, but didn’t look back to him.

“Can we –“ Suga didn’t know what word to use next – talk, continue – so he skipped it and moved on. “Later about this?”

“Sure,” Oikawa answered and looked over to the door. “Akaashi is waiting for you.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

“Take your time.”

Suga rose a little on his tiptoes and gave a kiss on Oikawa’s cheek, his hand tender as it cradled Oikawa’s other cheek, before he turned and went to the front door biting his bottom lip, regretful that their small celebration had ended like this.

He hadn’t planned on the kissing when he had come home after the movie with Asahi, but it had felt right at the moment, and he was immeasurably glad that he had acted on it. But now he felt as if the moment and every feeling within it had slipped through his fingers like water and he was unable to get any of it back. He felt, that with the interruption they were forced to take a side-step from their intended course, they had had their moment before it had been ripped away from them.

Akaashi’s eyes were filled with tears when Suga got to the door, and he knew he had to let go of his own regrets to attend to his friend, who seemed to be in great need of someone to listen to him and talk to him. He showed a small smile to Akaashi to comfort him as he put on Oikawa’s coat, the first thing that his hand touched.

“Is this about Bokuto?” Suga asked quietly as they stepped out the door, and Akaashi nodded, his lips pressed tight together. “Let’s go to the park.”

Akaashi nodded again, and Suga followed him down the stairs. He had suggested the walk, and now the park, since he knew that Akaashi wasn’t big on talking about his feelings, about his private life, and would rather do it without anyone overhearing them.

“Did I interrupt something when I came?” Akaashi asked quietly, uncertainly.

“It’s fine.” Suga made the effort to smile a little.

“I know you two wanted to be alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Akaashi,” Suga insisted, even though it wasn’t fine. “But what’s going on with you and Bokuto? I know you and I know that you wouldn’t have come just now if it wasn’t serious.”

Akaashi sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, wrapping them close to his body. “I think he’s going to break up with me.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I did okay ;) 
> 
> In case you're wondering... That wasn't the confession. Oh no, that's still somewhere in the future chapters :) 
> 
> Oh, and I was listening to [ Gå Inte by För Alltid ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vhAZaD0kFE) when I wrote The Kiss scene and what happened after it, if you're interested. The title translates to "don't go". 
> 
> The song Oikawa and Suga were dancing to is Lone Soul from Cirque du Soleil's Volta
> 
> to be continued:  
> "Who are you looking for?"  
> Suga whipped his head back to Bokuto. "No one," he fibbed with a smile, knowing that Bokuto knew who he was looking for. He just didn't feel like being too nice towards Bokuto at the moment and he felt he was justified for the white lie.  
> "He said he'd be here, right?"  
> "He did."  
> "Then I'm sure he'll be here," Bokuto said with an encouraging smile and pat on his shoulder.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, I was left unattended

 

 

 

Suga grabbed Akaashi’s sleeve to stop him and turned him so he could see his face. “What are you talking about?” He searched Akaashi’s face for signs, for tells, for anything that could explain Akaashi’s words to him.

Akaashi shrugged and bit his bottom lip. It was already a red flag – Akaashi rarely shrugged.

“Akaashi, talk to me,” Suga urged as gently as he could. Akaashi and Bokuto couldn’t break up – there just was no way for that to ever happen. He was not going to let that happen.

“We had a fight.”

“Okay,” Suga nodded, and when Akaashi didn’t continue, he prompted him to. “And?”

“And we never fight.” Akaashi delivered so deadpan that it would be impossible for anyone to refute, even if they didn’t know Akaashi and Bokuto the way Suga did.

“I know that.”

“No, you don’t understand.”

“Then help me to.”

Akaashi kept looking away, and Suga’s worry kept growing. There was no way he’d let Akaashi and Bokuto break up. That just wasn’t going to happen. If Akaashi and Bokuto broke up – well, that was the surest sign that the world was coming to an end, wasn’t it? The day after the unspeakable would happen, the break up, there would be ground shaking and all destroying earthquakes, tsunamis and inevitable floods, uncontrollable winds and storms, eruptions of volcanos...

“Weren’t we going to go to the park?” Akaashi looked back to Suga as he asked and started to walk before Suga could answer, leaving him to catch up in a couple of hurried steps.

They walked in silence in the dark night, the streets lit by the yellow glow of the lights, the sounds of the large city just a tad quieter than it was during the daytime, the hum of it still ever-present. Suga glanced at Akaashi a couple of times, and bit his tongue not to ask what he wanted to ask until they got to the small park. It really was just a small area of green grass during summer, a couple of paths running across it, and filled with cherry trees. A couple on benches had been placed along the paths, and Akaashi sat down on the first they came across.

Suga sat next to him, sideways to face him, his posture attentive because he needed to understand so he could talk sense into Akaashi – he’d rather die than let his closest friends break up. He might’ve been exaggerating about the dying part, but he was utterly serious and he meant it when he wouldn’t let his friends, who were always so happy with each other and who seemed perfect for each other in every way, break up, at least not without a very good reason. And right now, he couldn’t understand what could _ever_ be good enough reason for the two of them to break up.

“What happened exactly?” he asked when Akaashi didn’t seem likely to start first.

Akaashi glanced at him, impassive as always, and then away. “We fought.”

“I’m with you that far,” Suga said patiently and shifted a little closer to Akaashi. “What did you fight about?”

“I’m not sure,” Akaashi answered slowly, as if he was still confused about the whole thing himself. But he seemed to have gotten a grip of himself and wasn’t at the verge of tears anymore. Maybe having to think about what had happened had brought it on, forced Akaashi to try and figure the situation out instead of immediately reacting to something – which was as uncharacteristic of Akaashi as being calm and collected would be for Nishinoya.

“Honestly, we’ve been having small disagreements about something for a while now, and...” Akaashi trailed off and closed in on himself again, sunk into his thoughts in a way that still presented him as if he was still aware of his surroundings and people around him.

“Disagreements about what?” Suga could already guess what it was about, but didn’t want to assume too much, and he hoped that he was wrong.

Akaashi glanced at him quickly, as if to assess his expression. “There’s been a bet going around that I don’t find... That I don’t agree with.”

“About me and Oikawa? Of him confessing that he likes me?” Suga guessed in a slightly darker tone. He hated that bet, and he hated knowing about it.

Akaashi looked at him fully now, but he didn’t look surprised that Suga knew. “How long have you known?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Suga waved the matter away. He wanted to focus on the crisis of Akaashi and Bokuto’s relationship rather than think about the foul bet. “Is that bet what you were fighting about now?”

“No.” Akaashi looked away again, and Suga was grateful that Akaashi didn’t push on the bet. “But I think it and the fact that we were probably a little scared of our little fights had built a ground for the fight we did have.”

“Okay.” Suga nodded again to show that he was still listening, still following Akaashi, and to prompt him to continue.

Akaashi let out a small sigh and his posture deflated a little. When he spoke, he spoke slowly and without any color in his voice. “When Oikawa chased us out of your apartment and we went home, I pulled my laptop out to study a bit, and Koutarou asked me...” Akaashi stopped for a short moment and took a deep breath, as if to fortify himself for what he was about to say. “He asked how come I never want to spend time with him anymore.”

Akaashi fell quiet, or maybe just in his thoughts again, and Suga had to prompt him again to continue – his awesome telekinetic powers still lay dormant somewhere deep within him and he still hadn’t managed to move a thing with his mind, so how could he have developed telepathic skills to read people’s minds too?

“Was there basis for him to ask that? Do you really not spend time with him? Just the two of you?” he asked with a slight frown. He could tell this was bothering Akaashi, not just the fight but the thought that he wasn’t spending time with Bokuto.

“We’re together all the time when we’re home. But Kou said that whenever I’m home, I only study, and I’m not with him. And when I take a break from studying, I spent the time with all our friends, instead of just with him.”

“Is he right?” Suga asked as gently as he could, his tone like the caress of a feather.

Akaashi didn’t answer – maybe he didn’t have one, or was finding it hard to come up with one.

“I’d be worried too if my boyfriend chose to spent his free time with everyone else but me,” Suga said softly. He didn’t want to sound like he was disapproving of Akaashi’s habits of closing into himself when he studied.

“But I do spent time with him,” Akaashi insisted placidly, his words and voice still measured and considered, but the way they were brought out indicated that he was getting a little frustrated, maybe even agitated that he couldn’t figure the fight out himself either. “When I study at home, Kou is right there.”

“But that’s not the same as spending time with him the way you hang out with us,” Suga pointed out gently. “When was the last time you actually did something with him, just the two of you, that didn’t have anything to do with your studies?”

“I...” Akaashi thought for a moment, and Suga let him, even when the moment stretched longer and longer.

“When was the last time you had sex?” Suga asked, hoping it would be an easier question.

Akaashi might’ve come up with an answer to the second question almost immediately, but it didn’t seem to ease his mind at all. He brought his feet up on the bench and rested his forehead on his knees. “In December, I think.”

Suga’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s three months and that’s not healthy when you’re in a sexually active relationship.”

“I know,” Akaashi said to his knees. “But Kou said he understood when I said I was exhausted from studying.”

“But three months of you refusing to have sex with him is a lot, Akaashi. I’d be very concerned too, so would you if Bokuto had spent ninety days of refusing to have sex with you.” Suga shook his head a little, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to guilt trip Akaashi. “I understand that Bokuto was worried about your relationship, that he was worried that you’re not interested in him anymore.” He spoke gently and Akaashi lifted his head and brought his feet back down. “But I understand that you’ve been swamped and preoccupied with finishing school as well,” he added because he truly did understand both sides.

“Honestly,” Akaashi started in a quiet voice and crossed his legs, and instantly appeared more proper and cool and calm. “We’ve been having small fights about that for a couple of weeks now.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Akaashi nodded. Everyone had probably noticed that something was amiss between the couple. “But this was bigger now. And there was more too.”

“Like what?”

“He brought up the internship I got at a hospital in Osaka.”

“Oh, wow, congratulations,” Suga said with a warm tone and braved a proud smile. He hadn’t heard of this and was truly impressed and glad. But he could sense the displeasure Akaashi was experiencing from the internship, in _Osaka_ of all places, so far away.

“Thank you,” Akaashi said lifelessly. “But Koutarou thinks that I’m going to accept it and leave him for it. He said that, that it was pointless for us to be together anymore if I’m just going to move away when I graduate, and that we should just break up right now.”

Suga was momentarily shell-shocked. “I’m going to smack him when I see him.” He deadpanned in a matter of seconds after he broke out of his sudden daze. He really wouldn’t hold himself back from slapping Bokuto for ever even entertaining the thought of breaking up with Akaashi.

Akaashi flashed the smallest, saddest smile Suga had ever seen. “I’m not actually planning on accepting the internship.”

Suga wasn’t surprised about that. He had heard it in Akaashi’s tone, and he knew how much Akaashi loved Tokyo. “How come?” He still asked to hear the whole story. He couldn’t believe he didn’t know about the internship.

“Because it’s in Osaka, I don’t want to move there, I don’t want to leave everything here behind. I don’t want to break up with Koutarou.”

“Why do I get the sense that you already have something lined up in here as well?” Suga asked with a kind smile. He knew Akaashi, knew the slightest differences in his voice. He could hear the underlying plans Akaashi already had of something better.

“I have an interview for an internship at the hospital Sawamura-san works at. He was kind enough to recommend me to the head of the psychiatric department there.”

“Why haven’t you told Bokuto about it?”

“Do you remember how he gets when he’s excited about something? How he got when I applied to advanced psychology studies to get my doctorate?” There was a hint of exasperated fondness in Akaashi’s eyes that Suga found endearing.

“I do,” he admitted with understanding. “It’s a lot of support and pressure at the same time?”

Akaashi did a single nod. “I wanted to keep it a secret and a surprise in case I got the internship.”

“I can understand that.” Suga sighed as he had finally come to understand what the whole situation with Akaashi and Bokuto was about, and he suddenly found himself tired. It hadn’t been that long of a day, but he was excited about tomorrow, over the moon happy about the kiss and a little angry about the bet. The last one was what was eating him on the inside.

 

“This is an important question, and I want you to think about your answer.” Suga spoke surely. He wanted to know how ready, how willing Akaashi was to fight for the relationship with Bokuto.

Akaashi nodded once and turned his body to face Suga, after minutes of staring ahead looking straight into his eyes, ready to hear the question.

“Do you still love Bokuto?”

“Of course,” Akaashi answered immediately.

Suga smiled at his impulsiveness – four or five years ago, Akaashi didn’t do a thing or say a word without careful consideration. It was interesting how Bokuto’s personality and behavior had influenced him, and vice versa.

“Then you have to tell him that.” Suga punched Akaashi’s arm to drive his point home. “You have to show it to him. You know how he gets if he overthinks things.” He pressed every word with meaning.

Akaashi was unbothered by the punch, far too accustomed to his habit, even if it was strong enough to sting. “I know.”

“Good, now go home and tell him.” Suga got up and pulled Akaashi to his feet as well. “It’s almost midnight, I’m sure he’s worried about you if you just ran off in middle of the fight. Plus I have to wake up early tomorrow and it’s getting cold in here.”

“For your exhibit?” Akaashi asked almost curiously. He didn’t seem as given up anymore, which Suga found an immense relief.

He nodded and put his hands into his coat’s pockets to keep them warm. The nights in March were still cold, even if the sun was warm during the days, and Oikawa’s coat wasn’t as warm and effective against the wind as he had hoped it would. But then again, it had been the first thing that his hand had found before he went outside after Akaashi.

“Everyone’s planning on coming together.”

“How nice,” Suga stated dryly. The conflict between Akaashi and Bokuto now talked through and somewhat resolved had opened space in Suga’s mind for him to think about the bet again. He would much rather think about other things, about precious moments and lovely evenings spent with Oikawa.

It caught Akaashi’s attention, because how could it not. Suga caught the curious glance Akaashi shot at him. “Don’t you want us to come?”

“It’s not that.” Suga sighed and looked at Akaashi, speculating his motives not to mention the bet. Asahi had his reasons, and Suga had understood. But if Akaashi and Bokuto had even fought about the bet, why hadn’t Akaashi told him about it if he didn’t like it.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the bet?”

Akaashi looked at him with mild surprise, his eyes only a fraction wider but that being the only indication of his surprise.

“You almost did, once,” Suga remembered. “But you stopped. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re angry,” Akaashi observed instead of answering. “And you have the right to be. It was very inconsiderate of everyone.”

“Did you bet on when Oikawa would confess?”

Akaashi shook his head, as Suga knew he would.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Akaashi took a short moment to think. “No one meant to hurt your feelings with it. We’re all anxiously waiting until you two get together. But I knew you’d get mad. And it would have driven you to do something drastic, maybe confess to Oikawa first when you weren’t ready yet. And that would’ve forced Oikawa to confess before he was ready too. I still haven’t figured out why he hasn’t.” Akaashi said the last sentence slowly, as if he was thinking about the reasons at the same time.

“He has,” Suga revealed softly just as they rounded a street corner and were a few short steps away from their building.

“He has?”

“I just never noticed it.” Suga sighed again and stopped. “Why didn’t I notice it? He has said the words explicitly, and yet I never understood what he was saying.” He looked to Akaashi for answers.

Akaashi stopped as well and turned to face him. “Maybe you weren’t ready to hear them yet. And now that you have realized that he likes you, maybe you’re finally ready to hear them.”

It made sense to Suga. Maybe he hadn’t been ready. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready now either. Yes, he liked Oikawa, and he wanted to tell him. But he had made a plan for it for a reason, sort of try and prepare for what might happen after.

Akaashi was definitely right about one thing – knowing about the bet had rushed Suga’s plan, as Akaashi had thought it would make him do something unplanned, something that could be ill-advised.

“I kissed him,” Suga admitted quietly, looking down to the ground – not in shame but with apprehension that the kiss was something he shouldn’t have done.

“You did?” Akaashi was surprised again, his voice betraying his cool demeanor. “Was it when I came in?”

Suga nodded his answer, looking away.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Akaashi said quite sympathetically, although with the air of a gentleman from 1800’s. “Did you confess?”

“You came in before I had the chance to,” Suga said with a wry smile.

“You should’ve confessed first.”

“I know.” Suga hung his head back and looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of a star through the smog and dust. “I just really wanted to kiss him,” he said with sigh, with longing, with want to kiss Oikawa again.

There was a small, barely visible smile on Akaashi’s lips. “You can confess now. It’s not too late.”

“I will,” Suga promised to the stars he couldn’t see, but also mostly to himself, and brought his eyes back to Akaashi. “And you need to talk to Bokuto, tell him you love him, _have sex with him._ No more studying tonight.”

Akaashi blinked with resolve and they made a silent agreement before they entered the now quiet building. They split their ways at Suga’s door, with Akaashi continuing another floor up, his quiet steps speaking loudly of his consideration towards their sleeping neighbors.

It was dark in the apartment when Suga closed the door after him, and he made his way quietly through to the hallway. Oikawa’s door was closed, and Suga knocked softly before he opened it. Oikawa had closed his blinds, and it was almost pitch black in his room. As Suga made his way carefully towards the bed, he could just about make out Oikawa’s silhouette in the dark.

“Tooru?” he asked in a whisper, careful not to wake him up if he really was asleep already. It was important for them to talk, for him to tell Oikawa how much he liked him, but to Suga it was equally as important to let him sleep.

There was no answer from Oikawa, and he didn’t move at all when Suga gently placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Good night, Tooru,” Suga whispered to the darkness and placed a tender kiss on Oikawa’s cheek. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promised to the silent room, and let him sleep.

 

 

...

 

 

“Tooru?” a gentle voice cut through Oikawa’s sleep and he stirred a little.

“Are you awake?”

Oikawa hummed a negative answer.

“Could you wake up?”

Oikawa repeated his earlier statement and he heard a soft chuckle. He registered the hand on his shoulder, and how it traveled to his neck, how a thumb stroked tenderly under his jaw.

“I need to talk to you, but I have to go soon. Can we talk tonight?”

Oikawa mumbled his affirmative answer and hugged a pillow closer to him.

“Okay,” the kind voice said and the thumb moved along his jawbone to his cheek, and fingers run down along it, the dryness of them scratching against his stubble. “You’re coming to the gallery later, right?”

Oikawa made a weak nod and sighed in contentment as a hand settled to cradle his cheek. It reminded him of a similar touch and feel from last night, and he wanted to open his eyes to confirm his suspicions but was too tired and still sunk deep into sleep to do so.

“I’ll see you later then.” Oikawa felt a light kiss on his cheek, on the corner of his mouth when the warm hand lifted, and a familiar and comforting smell registered to him with a wave of affection. “I really like you.”

Oikawa shifted under the covers and hugged the pillow even closer. He felt comfortable in his warm bed, and loved listening to the gentle soothing voice and feeling the soft caresses. He vaguely registered the dip of his mattress when a weight lifted off, but before he could hear his room door shut, he had fallen back asleep.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was the ceiling. The void, vast, nothing-saying ceiling of his room. They had become quite well acquainted over the months, having had long silent discussions when he couldn’t sleep.

He knew there should’ve been a smile on his lips, but somehow he couldn’t manage it when he thought of _everything_ that had happened.

Yes – the evening had been lovely and sweet and he had loved every second of it that he had spent alone with Suga, don’t get him wrong. But after Akaashi had burst it, because of course they had been interrupted in middle of their kiss, everything had gone sideways, wonky and wrong and spiraled out of shape.

He could still feel the impression, the touch, the feel, the taste Suga had left with his lips. He could remember every little detail of what had led to that kiss – how Suga had surprised him by asking to kiss him, how he had pressed his lips against his so surely but still delicately. All of that he thought of with a fuzzy, soft feeling surrounding it all, casting it in a warm and bright glow like the setting sun of a warm summer day. But everything after it was tinted with grey, with a sour taste.

The way Suga had so readily left with Akaashi at the slightest sign of distress he had seen on his ex’s face.

If Suga didn’t like the kiss, if he had thought better of it, he should’ve just said so instead of abandoning him like that.

And then there was the text...

Oikawa got up with a growl, kicking his covers off, hating that he had to get up to make himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t want to wake up, he didn’t want to face the day and go through it like nothing had happened between him and Suga. He didn’t want to pretend that his life hadn’t suddenly felt somewhat fulfilled and perfect upon that kiss and the way Suga had hold onto him, only to have it ripped away from him so coldly.

The apartment was empty, as he expected it would be. He had gone to bed right after he had finished with the dishes. He had figured that Suga would wake him up if he wanted to talk when he got back. But Suga didn’t, and Oikawa was all the more bitter about it the longer he had to wait for his coffee to brew.

Suga hadn’t come to him last night, and he had no idea if Suga had come _home_ last night. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of Suga spending the night somewhere else, with someone else. He didn’t want to think about the different scenarios his mind kept coming up with just to irritate him even more. He couldn’t remember the time when he had last woken up with so much resentment within him. It was probably when he had to walk with crutches and suffer the ever-present pain and ache in his knee.

He poured the coffee into his overly large cup and when he turned to go to the fridge, his eyes skimmed by the island where Suga’s critique cards, his laptop and cellphone had been last night – but were gone now of course. The thought of the cellphone especially reminded Oikawa of the text again, and he wrestled it down by thinking of the complexities of protein supplements and the toll of lack of nutrients could have on a body.  He didn’t need the ugly reminder of seeing Terushima’s name flash on the screen when Suga got another text, at eleven at night.

He knew, he just knew without a shadow of a doubt that Terushima had been the one to send the text to Suga earlier that day, the ones that had been quickly dismissed and covered by Suga’s hand. Oikawa had wondered if Suga had answered, but decided that he didn’t want to know. It made sense, though, in an awful sort of way, that Suga hadn’t told him who the texts had been from. Of course Suga didn’t want to tell him if he was starting something again with Terushima when his too sudden engagement had predictably ended. (Now, Oikawa only assumed that the engagement had ended, he didn’t actually have any proof of it, but it was rooted deep in him that sudden engagements didn’t last.) Suga was nice enough to tell him with consideration, to take his time with it, to wait for the perfect opportunity. He knew that Suga wouldn’t just blurt it out and ruin a nice evening.

Suddenly, but the feeling of it steadily rising, Oikawa didn’t feel like going to the gallery, to Suga’s exhibit. What if Terushima was there? What if there was another photo of Terushima to show all the world Suga’s feelings towards the man.

But that kiss...

None of the above made any sense to Oikawa when he thought about the kiss again. Why would Suga kiss him, if he was still into Terushima?

He reluctantly, but with some cruel pleasure, thought about the kiss again and let himself remember how it had felt to kiss Suga, to hold him and let his lips reveal how he felt. He thought of how soft Suga’s lips had been, how perfectly they had moved along his, how tingling the sensation of Suga’s tongue had been against his, how Suga had held onto him like his life depended on it, as if he would disappear the second Suga let go.

Had Suga just tried him on, and when he didn’t feel or get what he was looking for in the kiss, given up? Did Suga just kiss him so he wouldn’t have to think about Terushima – was Oikawa a rebound, convenient at that since they were roommates? Or had Suga done it out of pity? Had Suga finally realized that he liked him? Had Suga kissed him to give him something just to take it away?

Oikawa didn’t think Suga would be so cruel. But no one ever really knew anyone fully. Anything was possible. Maybe he had figured Suga all wrong, and the displays of affection Suga had shown to him were done out of kindness of a friend. Suga could be touchy with all his friends, Oikawa had witnessed it himself, so why would he be any different in Suga’s eyes?

It was just hard to wrap his mind around the fact that Suga might not be into him after all, that he had read the signs all wrong. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the possibility that Suga would kiss him and then just up and leave without an explanation. Had Suga chickened out after the kiss and Akaashi had brought him the perfect excuse to leave?

He was giving himself a migraine with all his thinking, and he still wasn’t fully awake. He couldn’t mix enough milk or sugar into his coffee to make it taste less bitter – every sip like burning tar on his tongue that he couldn’t swallow.

 

 

...

 

_“I’m not going.” Oikawa was standing by his room door, his arms crossed in front of his chest._

_“What do you mean you’re not going?” Kuroo asked incredulously. This was the most upside down thing he had ever heard. Oikawa not going to Suga’s exhibit. What was the world turning into? And on top of that, Bokuto and Akaashi were fighting?_

_Something strange was going on, and Kuroo didn’t like it. Not one bit._

_“It means that I’m not going.” Oikawa explained oh, so helpfully._

_Kuroo put his hands on his hips and tried to summon what he had learnt about sternness and mothering from observing Yaku._

_“Please,” Oikawa smirked. “I live with Suga-chan. Do you think that move is going to have any effect on me?”_

_Kuroo dropped his hands, but not in defeat. It was a good try, at least. “Fine, suit yourself. You’re the one who has to explain to Suga why you’re not there, and I can already tell you that not going isn’t going to help your situation about loving Suga one bit.”_

_“So?” Oikawa shrugged, nonplussed._

 

Kuroo had been baffled, and he still was baffled twenty minutes later as he, Tsukishima, Bokuto, Hinata and Kenma were making their way towards the gallery.

“Bokuto-san?” Hinata called from a few steps behind.

“What’s up, Shrimp?” Bokuto glanced over his shoulder, and Kuroo with him and saw the orange haired man bouncing up and down with every excited step, Kenma’s hand securely held in his as the latter man walked calmly next to him.

“Where is Akaashi-san? Isn’t he going to the exhibit?”

Kuroo caught the light curiousness in the voice Hinata asked with, but Bokuto’s whole demeanor deflated with it.

It was an understatement of the century to say that Kuroo was worried about his friend. Bokuto had spent the night on his couch, after he had showed up at his door around eleven at night. He had already pulled his pajamas on, the adorable ones he had gotten as a gift from Kenma a year or so ago with the cartoonish cat print, and he had been a little miffed that his nightly routine had been disrupted. All of that had disappeared, though, at the quickest look at Bokuto’s expression and he had been more than happy to let the man stay. Bokuto didn’t speak a word, other than asking if he could borrow the couch for the night, which had caused Kuroo’s worry to shoot through the roof. At breakfast, he had tried to inquire what had happened, but Bokuto had remained tight-lipped and refused to explain even a little. Kuroo had pondered on calling Akaashi to come and talk Bokuto out of his slump, but had decided against the idea since he was pretty sure Akaashi was the one person Bokuto wasn’t looking forward to seeing right then and there.

“He texted earlier that he’s going with Suga.”

Kuroo glanced at his best friend, and believed that he was speaking the truth of Akaashi’s whereabouts. But it was certain that Bokuto had lied to him earlier when he had asked if they had had a fight and Bokuto had managed to bring himself from his slump to answer with “it’s nothing.” It definitely was something, a fight, and it was probably about something that Bokuto was a little embarrassed about since he was refusing to talk about it even to his best friend – and they shared _everything_ with each other, the good and the bad, the highs and the lows.

Kuroo took Tsukishima’s hand into his and squeezed it before he let go. Tsukishima wasn’t big on hand holding, especially in public, but Kuroo needed to have that reassurance of having Tsukishima there, next to him, when he thought about the possibility of the couple he had never thought would fight fighting and maybe even breaking up.

“Oh,” was Hinata’s underwhelming response and with that, the issue of Akaashi’s whereabouts was settled. He had probably noticed the glum tenseness Bokuto’s answer and the question about Akaashi had brought, and Kuroo appreciated that Hinata tried to change the subject, to talk about something easier, nicer. “Hey, Kenma, did Suga-san show you his photos again?”

Kenma didn’t answer, verbally, and Kuroo assumed he had nodded.

“Are they as good as the last ones?” Hinata asked, his usual peppy curiosity contagious. Kuroo smiled as he took another look at the couple walking behind him – Hinata still excitedly jumping next to calmly walking Kenma, like a hyperactive puppy trying to impress an old cat stuck in its ways and looking a little grumpy that the puppy was keeping him from sleeping.

Kuroo, too, was excited about Suga’s gallery, but he was just as worried about Bokuto and Akaashi, and he didn’t exactly like how the feelings contradicted themselves and stopped him from thinking clearly and focusing on just one matter at a time.

“Didn’t we all see them? When they were laid down on the floor of Suga and Oikawa’s living room?” He pointed out, remembering the photos he had caught a glimpse of too. He had wanted to see more, but out of respect for Suga’s unspoken but universally understood wishes to keep his photos secret until the very last second, he had tried his hardest not to take a _good_ look and fully inspect them.

“I didn’t see them!” Hinata exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, Shouyou,” Kenma spoke quietly, trying to calm Hinata down. “This way the surprise hasn’t been spoiled for you.”

“What surprise?” Kuroo and Bokuto asked at the same time, looking behind them at the shorter pair. Kuroo couldn’t remember seeing a photo that could be describes as ‘a surprise’, but then again, Suga might’ve changed them.

“You’ll see,” was all Kenma said.

“I think Kozume-san is the vaguest person I’ve ever met.” Tsukishima commented dryly. It made Kuroo grin.

“Why would I want a best friend who’s a gossip? When they’re vague, they don’t spill your secrets to everyone.” Kuroo spoke with an unconscious grin.

“I thought I was your best friend?” Bokuto asked with a disappointed frown.

“I can’t have two best friends?” Kuroo asked in return and slung his arm around Bokuto’s shoulders to bring him against his side. “I do need someone to gossip with.”

Bokuto’s frown turned into a small smile, but he still didn’t look as zealous as usual. Kuroo truly, from the bottom of his heart, wished that Bokuto and Akaashi would manage to fix whatever had happened.

“Hi guys,” Yukie greeted them with a warm smile, which quickly died as she turned serious, as they came to the gallery. “You can’t go in.”

“What do you mean?” Bokuto asked, frowning dejectedly again.

“It means that you can’t go in,” Yukie replied.

Everyone exchanged baffled looks with each other – Kuroo looked at Bokuto, who looked at Hinata, who looked at Kenma, who ignored everyone and kept looking down at the game he was playing. Tsukishima ignored the lot of them as a principle in possibly embarrassing situations.

A group of three people turned up at the door as well, and Yukie smiled charmingly at them and let them in with a warm welcome. Everyone’s jaws dropped open.

“What the hell, Yukie-san?” Bokuto asked.

“Don’t curse, Bokuto-san,” Yukie berated him and hit him on the head with the clipboard she was holding.

Bokuto rubbed the spot he had been hit on with a hurt expression on his face and a pout on his lips.

“Why can’t we go in, but you let them enter?” Kuroo asked patiently, acting as a diplomat in the situation. He didn’t really want to get hit on the head as well, and was worried how low Bokuto’s spirit could sink if he kept frowning like that, working himself up on whatever bout of insecurity he was currently in.

“Your names aren’t on my list, and that’s why you can’t go in.” Yukie flashed her clipboard, and Kuroo could see a paper on it that looked suspiciously like a Chinese menu. “And Suga-san promised me a week’s supply of onigiris,” she added under her breath, almost as an afterthought.

“What?” Kuroo asked, because, surely he had heard her wrong. Did she mention something about onigiris?

Bokuto’s eyes flashed – apparently he had heard the same – at the mention of food. “Did you say onigiri? Where? Is Suga serving onigiris inside?” He was about to enter the gallery, but his intentions were thwarted by another whack on the head with Yukie’s clipboard. It resulted with Bokuto’s spiked up hair now dented at one spot. 

 “You can let them in, Yukie-san.” Akaashi had arrived to the door, resembling a saint or a saving angel.

“Are you sure, Akaashi-kun? They haven’t been too nice,” Yukie said lightly, as if she suddenly didn’t really care if they got in or not.

Akaashi nodded. “I assure you it’s fine.”

Kuroo caught the searching look Akaashi shot at Bokuto, who was staring at his own feet and rubbing the spot of his head that had took Yukie’s light hit.

“Alright, go on in,” Yukie granted them permission as she stepped aside to let them enter the gallery. “But remember to be good.”

“Of course, Yukie-san.” Kuroo promised with a grin.

“Why is Yukie-san acting as a bouncer?” Hinata asked curiously from Akaashi as they all filed inside the gallery and joined the crowd.

“I’m not sure,” Akaashi spoke in a measured voice as he led them to the alcohol. “But she took it as her self-appointed duty to stand there. I had to talk her into letting Azumane-san, Tanaka-san and Nishinoya-san as well.”

“Hmm,” Kuroo hummed as he wondered what could have brought on her behavior. “Where’s Suga?”

Akaashi turned in the spot and looked across the space. Kuroo followed his line of sight and saw Suga conversing with someone, probably a buyer. “He’s been busy.”

“Should we look around first?” Kuroo suggested to no one in particular, but looked to Tsukishima.

“Isn’t that what we came here for?” Tsukishima pointed out, already looking bored.

Kuroo grinned and wanted to take Tsukishima’s hand into his again, but resisted the urge. He was about to take a step already when Akaashi spoke.

“Bokuto-san,” he said the name so formally that Kuroo got the whiff of nostalgia – it had been years since he had heard Bokuto’s name said so in Akaashi’s voice.

“I think I’ll go with Kuroo and Tsukki,” Bokuto interrupted before Akaashi could continue, and in a matter of milliseconds he was leading the way from the alcohol across the space, probably somewhere far away from Akaashi.

“Oh, alright.” Akaashi’s voice was faint, but unmistakably disappointed, and Kuroo truly wished, and prayed that the couple could work out their kinks so they could all be happy again.

 

 

...

 

 

In the end, Oikawa decided to go to the gallery, to Suga’s exhibit.

Through his throbbing head, and after his fourth cup of bad coffee that day, he managed to come to the conclusion that Suga wouldn’t just kiss him if he didn’t mean it, if he didn’t feel the same way about him.

And if Suga had just gotten scared all of sudden of the future of them as a couple, that was fine. They could talk about it, take everything slow.

 

But, as Oikawa was getting dressed a bit more fancier than usual, he couldn’t help but wonder – if it had been anyone else than Akaashi who had interrupted their kiss, would Suga have gone with them?

 

 

…

 

 

Suga picked up a glass of champagne and turned to look around. The gallery was filled with people, everyone’s focus on his photos. The little snippets of conversation he had heard of his photos had been very positive, and Suga was pleased. But he was still anxious for some reason. Well, for one specific reason – he was waiting for Oikawa, for him to see The Photo.

“You shouldn’t drink tonight,” a familiar voice said next to him and took the champagne flute out of Suga’s hand gently and placed it back on the table where Suga had picked it up from.

“I could’ve handled it,” Suga said with a friendly smile as he looked at Terushima. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome,” Terushima replied with an easy smile. “And you definitely couldn’t have handled it. After that one glass you would’ve pet your buyers’ heads in gratitude, cooing at them and their generosity.”

Suga rolled his eyes. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

Terushima chuckled lightly, looking down at his shoes as he shuffled his feet a little.

“How are you?”

Terushima lifted his head up and looked straight at Suga with a familiar smile. “I’m good. How about you? Still glad that you told me about this at the café?”

 

...

 

_Suga pushed the door open and stepped inside with some uncertainty. It had been months since the last time he had stepped inside the café, but it still looked just as he remembered it. The furnishing, the lighting, the flora was still the same, just as the general feeling and vibe the soft alternative music was that filled the background of the patrons chatter. Even the smell was the familiar of coffee grounds and sweets that were baked in the kitchen. It was as if no time had passed, and just yesterday Suga had stepped out of the café with Terushima._

_“Suga?”_

_Terushima’s voice sounded surprised, and he looked it when Suga turned towards the voice._

_“Hi,” he greeted with a shy smile. He wasn’t sure if it was good idea of him to step inside. He had just been walking down the familiar street, and passed the café when he suddenly felt the pull the place had for him to go inside._

_“What are you doing here?” Terushima truly looked like he had been hit in the head with a tree, looking he had been shot with a stun gun._

_“I was nearby for a meeting,” Suga explained as he moved closer to the counter. “And I was walking by and thought...” He sighed and bit his bottom lip when Terushima’s surprise dissipated and was replaced with a smile. “I thought I’d come and see how everything looked.”_

_Terushima looked around his café, probably trying to see it through outsider’s eyes. “Well, how does it look?” he asked when his gaze returned to Suga. It still held the same fondness that he had seemed to always reserve for Suga._

_“Exactly the same as I remembered it,” Suga answered with a kind smile, his hand holding tight on the strap of his messenger bag over his chest._

_Terushima smiled back at him, and Suga noted the lack of a_ ‘bang’ _upon seeing it. He had thought that seeing Terushima’s smile would hurt, but it didn’t. It was still a nice smile, and Suga could remember how he had felt once upon a time when he had witnessed it, but none of those feelings remained. Now, it was just a nice smile and nothing more. There was someone else whose smile did cause a definite reaction, a feeling, when he saw it._

_“Are you in a hurry somewhere? You mentioned a meeting, but I was wondering...”_

_“No,” Suga replied after a short moment of consideration. He wasn’t busy and would like to know what Terushima was wondering._

_“Good,” Terushima said, the smile still holding as effortlessly as before. “Do you have time for coffee? Or tea? I’d like to catch up with you.” He looked hopeful, and even if he hadn’t, Suga would’ve agreed._

_Suga thought it through seriously – whether it was a good idea to stay, to have coffee or tea with Terushima, to catch up with him – and he found the want to catch up with Terushima within himself as well._

_Wasn’t the fact that he had entered the café already a sign that he was well and truly over Terushima and their break up, his own broken heart? Wasn’t the fact that he wanted to sit down with Terushima and talk with him a sign that he was really over him?_

_“Sure.”_

_“Great,” Terushima visibly lit up and looked pleased. “Grab a table and I’ll be right there. You want tea, like usual?”_

_Suga nodded and went to find an empty table. It wasn’t terribly crowded at the café since it wasn’t the busy time of the day yet, and there were several tables for Suga to choose from. He chose one fairly close to the counter in case Terushima needed to get quickly back to work or he was needed for whatever reason._

_He dropped his bag next to him in the plush armchair and leaned his chin into his closed hand as he looked around while he waited. There were more empty tables than there were people occupying them, but that really wasn’t unusual at that time of the day. There was a couple a few tables over, clearly on a date and they looked like they had been together quite a while already from the easy way they were smiling at each other and holding hands over the table; there was a small group of students laughing at one of the taller tables with higher chairs; a lone coffee lover typing on his laptop. The sight of the man reminded Suga of Oikawa and he smiled unconsciously._

_“Here,” Terushima said as he set a cup of tea in front of Suga and sat across from him. He had some flour stuck on his apron, and he smelled distinctively of apples and cinnamon._

_“Thank you,” Suga smiled and turned the cup around on the table to curl his hands around it comfortably._

_“You look good,” Terushima said and sipped his coffee, looking Suga over the rim of his coffee cup. He wasn’t looking at Suga suggestively, or like he was appraising him or looking up and down, but honestly into his eyes, as if he was commenting on more than just the outward appearance._

_“So do you,” Suga replied, since Terushima really looked happy, as if it was a light shadow, a glow around him that underlined everything he did or said. “And the café really seems to be doing well.”_

_“It is.” Terushima nodded._

_“I’m glad,” Suga said sincerely and smiled easily._

_Terushima nodded and placed his cup on the table, turned it around a couple of times and looked down into the creamy concoction inside it with a contemplative set on his lips. “How have you been since the last time we saw each other?” he asked as he lifted his gaze to Suga, looking somehow sorrowful and apologetic._

_Suga was reminded of the day he had met Terushima at the store, of the day that he found out that Terushima had gotten engaged. He remembered how it had hurt, how he had wanted to tip over his innocent fridge._

_“I was angry then,” Suga said honestly. He didn’t feel any need or want to hide it from Terushima._

_“You had every right feel that way,” Terushima spoke softly. “I would’ve been angry too if I had been in your place.”_

_Suga smiled encouragingly – he didn’t want Terushima to feel bad for how things had gone, he didn’t want Terushima to feel the need to apologize for falling in love with someone else and finding happiness with him._

_“But that was a long time ago,” he said patiently. “I’m not angry anymore. I’m actually really happy for you.”_

_Suga had noted the ring on Terushima’s finger, as eye-catching as it had been at the store with the way it glinted in the light._

_“You’re too good, Suga.” Terushima said with a light chuckle and ducked his chin down to hide his smile. “But are you happy?” he asked when he looked up again._

_Suga thought about his answer for a moment and decided that, “Yes, I’m happy.”_

_Terushima was visibly relieved, a subtle tense line in his shoulders breaking and the burden of it falling off._

_“I actually have an exhibit in a couple of weeks.”_

_“Already? Don’t you usually have one in April?”_

_Suga smiled with the memory of meeting Terushima at Shimizu’s gallery last April, in his exhibit. After his heart had mended, he could look back to that day with certain nostalgia that warmed him. He had been happy with Terushima, and he was glad that he had met the man, even if it had ended in a broken heart._

_“Kiyoko’s gallery happened to have an opening.”_

_“Ah,” Terushima nodded in understanding, and pursed his lips as he thought about something. Suga could guess what from the glances Terushima was surreptitiously shooting at him._

_“You can come if you want to,” he said kindly and finally took the first sip of the tea. It was still warm, but not scalding hot anymore. “It’s only for that one day, again.”_

_“Are you sure I can come?”_

_Suga nodded with a smile._

_“I don’t want it to be weird for you. It’s an important day, after all.” Terushima had a small frown on his features, as if he was unsure if he should come._

_Suga fixed him with his most patient look. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to come.”_

_“Thank you.” Terushima really looked grateful and Suga didn’t find any trace in him to regret that he had invited Terushima, and he hoped it would stay that way._

_“How come it’s just for a day? All your exhibits are only for a day. Wouldn’t you sell more if your exhibit was longer?” Terushima sounded honestly curious, and Suga got the feeling that Terushima had wondered about this for a long time, but never had had the chance or nerve to ask._

_“Exclusivity.” Suga answered simply. “Rarity.”_

_“Ah,” Terushima seemed to understand again and chuckled lightly to himself before he sipped his coffee. “Makes sense. You only sell a certain number of your photos.”_

_“Makes them rarer,” Suga confirmed._

_“And as you get more famous they become more valuable.”_

_That was where Terushima was wrong. “I don’t care about the money,” Suga lowered his voice a little to sound more serious. “I care that there aren’t too many copies of one photo around. I’d like the buyers to own something that is only theirs, almost like a painting or a sculpture that is the only one that exists in the world.”_

_Terushima dropped his gaze down to the cup he was slowly turning around on the table with his hand again. Suga knew it wasn’t a nervous habit – Terushima just had busy hands, always doing something with them. But something was up._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_Terushima sighed softly and looked up with the smallest smile Suga had ever seen on him._

_“Nothing really.” Terushima widened his smile for a fraction of a second before it turned sad again. “I just remembered why I fell in love with you.” He had a sad note in his voice that fit the smile._

_“Was is a bad idea that I came in?” Suga asked carefully, frowning with worry. This wasn’t what he had wanted, and certainly wasn’t something that he had thought would happen or come up._

_Terushima quickly shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay,” he reassured and laughed a little, ending it with a small sigh. “I’m glad you came in.”_

_Suga flashed a comforting smile._

_“I’d really like to be your friend Suga.” Terushima spoke softly, as if he was speaking from his heart, the words too fragile in the face of the cruelties of the world._

_Suga would like that too, but –_

_“I understand that it would take time for us to get there, to be friends, but I’d really like for it to happen.”_

_It was Suga’s turn to sigh. He knew he’d have to think about it. He wasn’t hurting anymore, and it was really nice to see and talk with Terushima again. But if their interactions brought past memories to them that turned them sad, was it going to ever happen, was it ever going to be worth the trouble?_

_“Is your number still the same?” Suga cleared his throat to ask and finished his tea._

_“Yeah,” Terushima nodded and followed in suit drinking the last of his coffee._

_“Okay, good.” Suga smiled genuinely. “I should go. I was on my way to Daichi’s.” He really had been on his way there, to talk to his best friend about his crush on Oikawa that he felt every day was less and less just a crush._

_“I should get back to work as well.” Terushima got up with him. “I really am glad that you came in. It was nice to catch up a little like this.”_

_“It was,” Suga returned the sentiment with a smile. Just then, a resounding crash was heard from behind the counter and they, and everyone else in the café, whipped their eyes towards the sound._

_“I really need to get back to work,” Terushima said in a voice that suggested that he wanted to add some sailor speech into his sentence as well._

_Suga chuckled at Terushima’s look of despair when he looked at the frantic looking young girl who was profusely apologizing to her co-worker, who was already cleaning up after the crash behind the counter._

_“She’s a good worker when she doesn’t get overwhelmed,” Terushima explained patiently, and Suga believed him. “But I’ve already had to replace all of my cups twice and she only started two months ago.”_

_Suga smiled at the fond exasperation in Terushima voice and knew that Terushima had no intention of firing the new employer. “I’ll let you go and buy a third new set of cups,” he said with a grin._

_Terushima chuckled and headed towards the counter after they said their goodbyes._

...

 

“I’m still happy,” Suga assured with a smile. “And I still mean what I said then, that I’m happy for you.”

Terushima ducked his head again with a sigh for a moment, before he looked up with gentle eyes. “You’re too good, Suga. No one deserves you.”

“You flatter me,” Suga said with a light chuckle and slapped Terushima’s arm.

“No, I mean it,” Terushima chuckled as well. “I hope Oikawa knows how lucky he is.”

Suga tilted his head like a bird. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the photo.”

“Oh,” Suga understood and glanced towards the direction he knew the photo was at. It wasn’t as explicit as the photo Suga had put up of Terushima in his last exhibit, so it hadn’t gathered the same kind of attention from the art lovers. But of course Terushima would figure out what it meant that a photo of Oikawa was hanging on the wall.

“I’m guessing it’s not for sale either.”

Suga shook his head when he looked back at Terushima. “No.”

“Are you together now then?” Terushima asked gently, with a friendly smile and voice. It really was noteworthy to Suga how friendly Terushima was being, how he kept a respectable distance, but still leaned a little closer so it appeared that Suga was the only person in the gallery.

“No.”

“Not yet?” Terushima raised his eyebrows with his question.

Suga took a beat before he answered, thinking the possibility of him and Oikawa actually happening, of them being a relationship. “Not yet.”

Terushima did a single nod and looked around the space. Suga couldn’t tell who he was looking for, what he was actually paying attention to, but he could always guess. He looked around as well, looking for a familiar and charming smile that could awaken hundreds of butterflies in his stomach. He longed for Oikawa’s presence, their easy banter, the comfort he experienced near the man.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

Suga was taken aback by the sudden apology, said in a soft voice and Terushima’s eyes looking at him as if he was truly being sincere. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I feel that that’s the reason that you’re not together yet, that that’s what’s holding you back with him.”

Suga considered this, if it was true, and found that it could and couldn’t be the reason.

“And I’ve run into some your friends who had a few choice words and some attitude reserved just for me.”

An apologetic smile spread on Suga’s lips. That wasn’t what he wanted – he didn’t want Terushima to feel attacked. “I never said a bad word about you.”

“I know, I believe you.” Terushima said sincerely.

“I’m sorry about them.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I feel like I deserved at least some of it.” Terushima stopped talking when an art critic came towards them.

“Excuse me, Sugawara-san,” he started politely, while Suga wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible. He had been dodging the man the entire afternoon, quite successfully too, until now.

But even so, he was polite towards him too and bowed. “Yes?”

“Could I have a moment of your time for a short interview? I’d like to know about your inspiration, about your theme.”

“Oh,” Suga glanced at Terushima who was patiently standing by. “Can you wait a moment? I was in the middle of something.”

The art critic looked at Terushima. Suga couldn’t tell whether he recognized Terushima from the last exhibit – the man’s expression remained vague and void of any signs of recognition, but that could be rehearsed behavior. “I suppose,” the man said when he focused back to Suga. “Come and find me once you’re free.”

“Of course,” Suga promised and the man left them alone again, returning to the milling crowd examining the many photos.

“I’m the one who should apologize,” Terushima continued their conversation seamlessly, as if they hadn’t just been interrupted. “I’m sorry,” he repeated himself.

“You’re forgiven,” Suga said gently and smiled to reinforce his words. “So, can we be friends now?” he asked with a wider smile, recognizing the want in him to be friends with Terushima. He had thought about it a lot, and the more he had thought about it, the more he had leaned towards wanting to be friends. He had even texted Terushima that evening when they caught up at the café and thanked him for the tea.

“Is that really what you want?” Terushima asked, as if to make sure that he had heard right rather than to check on anything else.

Suga nodded with veiled excitement, smiling along with it.

“Honestly, you’re too good, Suga,” Terushima said and then chuckled lightly again, sounding relieved. ”Yeah, friends.” His eyes crinkled from the force of his smile.

“Good,” Suga confirmed, cementing the fact that they were friends now.

“I should let you go and find that critic,” Terushima said then, smiling too, apparently happy that they were friends now. 

“He could wait until the end of time for me to go to him,” Suga said in a darker voice, which made Terushima laugh, the sound free and truly amused.

“You’re in the wrong business if you can’t deal with the critique.”

“The criticism is fine, so are the critics.” Suga waved his hand as if he was pushing the issue away. “Having to talk to them isn’t.” He looked around, carefully trying not to see the critic so he could pretend that he didn’t need to go yet, and he noticed another absence in the gallery. “No Futakuchi-san?” he asked from Terushima when he returned his gaze to the man.

“No,” Terushima smiled with the shake of his head. “He didn’t want to make anything awkward. This is an important event for you.”

“That’s nice of him to consider that,” Suga said casually, completely void of actually feeling any way about it.

“Actually, I told him not to come.”

“Oh.” Suga was a little taken back. “I’m not sure whether to say thank you or not. I feel like he could’ve bought a photo or two.” He frowned a little as he mulled the idea in his head.

“Probably,” Terushima agreed. “Actually, speaking of your photos, have you sold well?”

“I don’t know,” Suga answered honestly. The time that he hadn’t spent in the large space in the crowd he had spent hiding in Shimizu’s office. “You’d have to ask my agent.”

“You have an agent?” Terushima seemed surprised by the information. And of course he would be. They had broken up a little before Suga met Takeda.

“An agent, a manager, I’m not really sure. But he handles the sales.” Suga shrugged, looking around him again to make sure the critic, or any of the other ones, weren’t lurking close by. “And some promotion too,” he added with a weary tone and Terushima chuckled upon hearing it.

“You hate that, don’t you?”

“A little,” Suga admitted, just a short moment before a hand settled on his shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t mind that Suga comes with me now.” Suga recognized Bokuto’s voice and was surprised when Bokuto started to steer him away from Terushima.

“No, of course not,” Terushima said with a polite smile.

“I wasn’t asking your opinion.” Bokuto said then, already walking Suga away in front of him. “I was telling you not to mind.”

“I’ll see you later,” Suga called over his shoulder to Terushima and saw him give a small wave back. He would’ve apologized for Bokuto’s rudeness, but he wasn’t given the chance to with the strong handling.

“Why were you talking with him?” Bokuto asked several forced steps later. Suga was sure they were out of Terushima’s earshot by now, all the way at the other end of the gallery. “Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

“I’m fine, Bokuto.” Suga assured him. “We were just talking. Friends talk, you know.”

“Why would you want to be friends with him? He broke your heart.”

“Isn’t that a thing people do? Try to be nice and civil with their exes, try and maintain some friendship.” Suga asked sarcastically. He knew it wasn’t something that people normally did. It wasn’t what he had wanted three months ago. But now, that the hurt was gone and he was over the break up, he knew that it might be fun to be friends with Terushima. The man was fun company.

“No!” Bokuto whisper-shouted.

“What’s so wrong with me being friends with Terushima when I’m friends with Akaashi too?” Suga pointed out and Bokuto stopped pushing him, stepping in front of him with an apology written all over his face. Suga knew what he was going to say.

“It’s fine, Bokuto. I’m fine. Don’t apologize for a thing,” he said quickly before Bokuto could have the chance to.

“But I never apologized for –“

“You never needed to.” Suga told him, stressing that he meant it with a meaningful look. “It’s thoughtful that you want to and it’s really sweet of you to worry about me. But you don’t need to. Besides, I’m fine about Terushima. And I’d like to be friends with him.”

“If you’re sure about it,” Bokuto said unsurely, his eyebrows tilting up with worry.

Suga chuckled. “Seriously, stop worrying.”

“I can’t help it, you’re my friend.” Bokuto protested with a pout.

Suga flashed a small smile at the sentiment and then looked around again, seeing more from his new spot. He spotted some familiar faces – his friends here and there, Takeda speaking with someone and gesturing at the photo they were standing by, a couple of people he’d seen in every single one of his exhibits, Terushima now chatting with Shimizu. But no Oikawa.

“Who are you looking for?”

Suga whipped his head back to Bokuto. “No one,” he fibbed with a smile, knowing that Bokuto knew who he was looking for. He just didn’t feel like being too nice towards Bokuto at the moment – he still wanted to slap him for entertaining the idea of breaking up with Akaashi – and he felt he was justified for the white lie.

However, the lie was for naught, for Bokuto guessed correctly anyway. “He said he’d be here, right?” Suga knew he meant Oikawa.

“He did.”

“Then I’m sure he’ll be here,” Bokuto said with an encouraging smile and pat on his shoulder.

Suga studied him, wondering where the smile had come from. When he had seen Bokuto come in with Kuroo and their small entourage, after the harassment from Yukie, he had looked like he had come to someone’s funeral. Suga also wondered if he could say anything about the situation with Akaashi, and decided to just voice his thoughts. “Have you talked to Akaashi today?”

Bokuto’s smile dropped immediately and he looked at once dejected, back at the funeral. “No.”

“You need to talk to him. You should go find him.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not breaking up with him and that’s final,” Suga said sternly, crossing his arms in front of his chest to appear adamant and unwavering, what he was.

“Why do you care?” Bokuto asked in a small voice. His spiked up hair was drooping a little after a long day of being stuck up, as if it was expressing his emotions as well.

“Because you two are my friends, you love each other, and I’m not going to let you be stupid and do something as monumentally idiotic as breaking up with Akaashi.” Suga spoke with determination.

“Excuse me, Sugawara-san.” The same art critic had found him again and Suga sighed. “Do you have a moment now?” He looked pointedly at Bokuto, and Suga gave up.

“Yes, let’s go talk,” he said to the critic with a polite smile and followed the man, leaving Bokuto alone for the time being.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa was a little conflicted about coming. Glad that he had come to see Suga’s photos, to show support. Pettish because he couldn’t see Suga anywhere.

He wanted to talk to Suga, ask about the kiss, maybe – definitely – repeat it. He wanted the uncertainty to pass and feel blissfully happy. He yearned to touch Suga, to hear his laughter, to see his smile. His body was starting to ache with how much he missed Suga.

He caught a quick sight of familiar light-colored hair as a crowd parted in the middle of the gallery, and he moved towards it on instinct, only to stop short after mere three steps. He had seen Suga, that was sure, but he was not happy about the man Suga was conversing and laughing with.

An ugly feeling crawled up Oikawa’s spine and got caught in his throat.

Suga didn’t care if Oikawa came to the gallery. He had Terushima there.

Oikawa tried to bite down the want to march where the two men were, and demand to know what was going on. It wasn’t his business. If the two of them were friends, then fine. If Suga wanted to hang with Terushima, who was Oikawa to tell him no? If Suga was still in love, or maybe back in love, with Terushima, there was nothing Oikawa could do about that, was there?

With a long and deep inhale, and then even longer and steadier exhale, Oikawa pushed himself to move.

Out of the building.

Suga didn’t need him here. He had Terushima.

And Akaashi.

And Yamaguchi, it would appear, Oikawa thought with resentment when he spotted the younger man right before he left.

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Where’s Suga?” Iwaizumi asked from Asahi when they found him admiring a photo of an empty set of swings, swayed by the wind, in middle of a deserted park.

“Haven’t seen him yet,” Asahi answered. “But Takeda-sensei looks proud.”

Daichi looked around to find the man, and noticed a wide smile on his lips as he gestured with obvious pride at one of the photos. “He really does,” he agreed with Asahi, and he when he turned back to his tall friend, he noticed the apprehensive frown. “What’s up Asahi?”

“Nothing, just – “Asahi glanced around him, as if he was afraid they were eavesdropped. “Were you harassed at the door too?” he asked meekly, looking down to his shoes with embarrassment.

Daichi smiled with sympathy and patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, while Iwaizumi answered his question.  

“Yep,” Iwaizumi said frankly and emptied his full glass in one go. “Do you know why?”

“No, I was hoping you would.”

“We could ask Suga when we find him,” Daichi suggested, gently rubbing Asahi’s shoulder to try and comfort him. “You know, I bet Suga’s hiding in Kiyoko’s office again. I’ll go and check,” he volunteered. He wanted to gush at Suga about his photos, wanted his best friend to hear and feel embarrassed about the attention and praise. He loved embarrassed Suga, in a way that someone would love their best friend without having any deeper feelings for them.

“We’ll wait here,” Iwaizumi promised with a nod. Daichi gave him a quick kiss before he left. They weren’t completely over their latest fight, and he found himself doing everything he could and even more every day, on every occasion that one of them mentioned Suga not to make anything awkward or tense.

As he passed Suga’s gorgeous photos on his way to the back of the gallery, taking a peek every chance he got, he became more and more proud with every glance. He was fortunate to call Suga his friend, he knew it. But it wasn’t a long ago since he had had to think, whether he’d give up Suga or Hajime if he was given an ultimatum.

He didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing one to keep the other, and he really had been scared of being forced to make that choice.

A black and white photo of swirling leaves in a park caught his attention and he stopped for a second or two to inspect it. There was something sad in the photo, something aching in the way the fallen and dead leaves were moved by a wind, aimlessly in the air and never knowing where they would land.

Suga was talented, he had vision, and he was going to become famous. Daichi knew this somewhere deep in him – like he knew himself, he knew that Suga’s name was going to be big. Everyone in Japan and their distant cousin in another country would come to know the name _Sugawara Koushi,_ no matter how hard Suga tried to fight it with his humbleness and quick wit.

 _“Everyone is one bad decision away from ending up on the news,”_ Suga would always laugh when someone brought up the possibility – that was becoming more and more a certainty – that he and his photos would become nationally known, famous.

Daichi knocked on the slightly ajar office door when he got there and pushed it open enough to see Suga sitting in one of the two chairs by the wide and long table, cluttered with Shimizu’s work.

”Hey, Suga,” Daichi announced his presence to his best friend, surprising him if the widened eyes were any indication. “Hiding again?”

“No,” Suga answered with a shake of his head, but seemed to reconsider his words. “Well, maybe a little.” He flashed a small smile and then gestured with his hand. “And Akaashi needed someone to talk to.”

Daichi noticed Akaashi only now. “Oh, hey Akaashi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s quite alright, Daichi-san.” Akaashi said in his usual polite manner and a barely there nod of acknowledgment.

“Is something wrong?” Daichi asked, getting a little worried. Bokuto too, seemed droopier than usual. “Did something happen?”

“Everything is alright, Daichi,” Suga cut in. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

Daichi was momentarily perplexed by Suga’s words – if something had happened between Bokuto and Akaashi, everything wasn’t alright, and it definitely was something for everyone to worry about. So, why would Suga lie? Did he... Did Suga just...?

Daichi frowned, concerned as he was. “Are you dismissing me without actually saying so?”

Suga glanced at Akaashi and then looked back to him, shaking his head again. “No.” He moved his gaze back to Akaashi.

And Daichi felt expressly that he was being dismissed and he had the gut-feeling that this wasn’t just about Akaashi and Bokuto.

Suga was angry.

Daichi could just tell, after knowing Suga for years, he had learnt to see it in the smallest shifts in his mannerism. He knew that Suga would never shout at anyone when he was mad. Anger always ran deep inside him, and it never actually surfaced, at least not in front of other people. And Suga was never passive-aggressive on the rare off-chance that he got angry. But Daichi was, without a single doubt, getting some angry vibes from Suga.

Had he done something?

He wanted to inquire further into the issue of what was going on, but as he tried to find his voice to ask – struggling to do so since he was quite sure that Suga had never been mad at _him_ and he was understandably thrown by the idea that now Suga was angry – Shimizu came.

“Hello, Daichi,” she said kindly.

“Hey, Kiyoko.” Daichi responded with a smile. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” Shimizu answered.

Even though Daichi had known Shimizu as long as he had known Suga, they had remained in that weird phase of acquaintances that were always polite to each other to such an extent that an outsider might mistake them for two people who had just met for the first time. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Shimizu used to briefly date Yui, Daichi’s very first girlfriend and a failed attempt at a relationship when he was only fourteen years old. Maybe, who knows?

 Anyway, they were always polite to each other, and only recently stopped adding –san to the end of each other’s names, Shimizu holding onto it longer than he had.

“Suga, there are people who want to talk to you,” Shimizu addressed the man of the hour with a faint smile that always had the capability to both baffle Daichi – he had never seen her smile like that to anyone else - and cause some irregular heart palpitations – to everyone who caught the sight of her beautiful smile.

Now, the friendship between Suga and Shimizu, however... Daichi had no idea what it was and how it became what it was. Back in high school, Daichi had been so sure that Suga was in love, or at the very least crushing on Shimizu. But then again, everyone was. But they had somehow overcome whatever obstacle Shimizu seemed to have with everyone else and let Suga in. Daichi was pretty sure Suga was the only person he had ever seen Shimizu make any sort of physical contact with.

“Can you tell them that I already left home?” Suga asked hopefully, a slight corresponding smile on his lips, as if Shimizu was his favorite person in the world.

Shimizu shook her head minutely as an answer.

“Okay.” Suga stood up and placed his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder. “Are you going to be okay for a while?” he asked gently from the abnormally quiet and subdued man. Akaashi was never one to make a big number of himself, but now he seemed even less than usual.

“Of course,” Akaashi replied and with that Suga was on the move.

“Why can’t I be Batman and live alone in a huge mansion on an island?” he muttered when he passed by Daichi.

Despite of the slightly tense air between them, it made Daichi smile with amusement – he was still Suga, after all. His smile faltered, though, when he looked at Akaashi and noticed how sad the man looked.

“What’s going on?” he asked tentatively.

Akaashi lifted his eyes up to look at him and sighed. “Suga knows about the bet.”

Daichi was incapable of forming another thought. He had inquired about the state of Akaashi’s relationship with Bokuto, about what was going on between them. This... This... The fact that Suga knew about the bet was unexpected and very, very, _very_ bad. No wonder Suga seemed angry.

“Fuck.”

“Yes, fuck.” Akaashi nodded.

If Daichi wasn’t so busy trying to wrap his mind around Suga knowing about the bet he would’ve been more shocked to hear Akaashi swear for the first time.

 

 

...

 

 

 

The gallery was busy with people conversing with acquaintances – new and old alike – and studying his photos, hands on their chins and contemplative looks on their faces as they tried to appear cultured and intelligent, or trendy and important. It was almost time, in three hours, to shut off the lights, lock the doors and go home.

Suga was anxious to do the last – he hadn’t seen Oikawa anywhere and he was worried. He was aimlessly walking around the wide open space, searching every face for a familiar set of eyes and a charming smile. He didn’t realize he had wandered closer to his friends until he heard them behind a separating wall. He knew what they were looking at before he heard them comment on it – he had hung the photo there himself.

 _”I think this is one of your best photos,”_ Shimizu had said quietly as she had studied the photo of Oikawa, her expression kind but otherwise void of feelings or opinions. “You can see the love.”

Suga had taken another look at the photo at Shimizu’s words, and wondered, if it was one of his best photos because he was falling in love with the subject.

“Thank you, Kiyoko,” he’d said gratefully – her opinion mattered to him even if he didn’t agree with her when she said that he should exhibit his photos in a thought-through order. “I’m quite fond of it too.” He had touched the frame with his fingertips, sliding them down along the black finish as he admired what he saw.

“The photo or the man?” Shimizu had asked, and Suga had bitten down his wide smile at getting caught.

“You’re too smart for your own good, Kiyoko.” He teased her as he let his hand drop, and curled the fingers so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out again.

Shimizu had smiled her small, rare smile at that and turned away to hang another photo, while Suga had returned his gaze back to Oikawa, backlit by the sun and surrounded by the cold winter air that Suga could still remember stinging his cheeks, even if no one would be able to see the chilliness in the photo.

 

 

...

 

 

“Jesus hot sauce Christmas cake,” Kuroo whisper shouted at the sight of a photo of Oikawa hanging on the wall. “I’m calling it – Suga’s in love.”

“What gave it away?” Yaku chuckled next to him, his shoulders shaking with poorly veiled laughter.

“Is this the surprise you mentioned, Kenma?” Hinata was in awe, while Kenma made a single nod, his focus steady on his game.

“I’m not convinced that’s Oikawa. That man in the photo is far too handsome to be him.” Hanamaki sounded suspicious as he appraised the photo from different angles by tilting his head this way and that way.

“That’s Suga’s secret,” Tanaka spoke and sipped his champagne. “He captures everyone in their best light.”

“It’s unfair that Oikawa looks that good. Everyone’s going to want to take him home.” Hanamaki pouted.

“No one has bought it, though.” Matsukawa noted the absence of red dot next to the frame.

“Maybe it’s not for sale.” Tanaka suggested.

“Makes sense. The one of Terushima wasn’t for sale either.” Kuroo nodded along just as a looked around and caught sight of Suga standing close by with a peculiar expression.

“Suga-san!” Hinata noticed him as well. “When did you take this?” He pointed at the photo .

“Just one day,” Suga answered with a small smile, happy as he looked at the photo as well. The man was so in love, it would require a blind, deaf _and_ mute person not to notice it. Kuroo was quite certain he hadn’t looked like that with Terushima, not to mention any of his other ex-boyfriends.

Suga’s happy smile turned a little worrisome when he turned to look at them. “Have you seen Tooru?” He asked with a slight, worried frown accompanying his sad smile.

“Yes,” Tanaka pointed to the photo.

Suga tilted his head to the side with exasperation and annoyance. “I mean the living breathing Tooru, not the photo.”

“You call him Tooru?” Hanamaki asked with apparent interest, his eyes narrowed just a little to focus his gaze on Suga.

“It’s his name,” Suga pointed out easily.

“Well, that’s true,” Hanamaki was forced to acknowledge, the point of Suga calling Oikawa ‘Tooru’ forgotten with the simple way it was stated. It was a fact that no one could refute, so the matter was let go and set aside.

“Haven’t seen him,” Matsukawa answered Suga’s previous question and took a sip from his glass. “I’m sure he’s here somewhere. He was secretly excited about the exhibit a couple of days ago when we last saw him.”

“Hmm,” Suga surveyed the crowd, obviously scanning every face for Oikawa’s.

“Suga, you need to take a photo of me and put it up on a wall,” Kuroo demanded in an attempt to bring his friend away from his worries and to see a smile on his face. He didn’t like seeing the frown on Suga’s brow – it didn’t belong there.

“No.” Suga refused straight away, looking back to him.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Kuroo finished with heavy emphasis on the word.

A beat of silence followed their back and forth while they just looked at each other with vague expressions, almost defiantly staring at each other in a challenge but not quite.

“No,” Suga said one final time and was moving away before Kuroo could reply with another “yes”.

“Did he seem mad to you?” Matsukawa asked almost absently, looking after Suga like they all were.

“He didn’t seem happy,” Hanamaki replied solemnly.

“You wouldn’t know what happiness was if sadness didn’t exist.”

Everyone turned to look at contemplative Akaashi.

“Breaking up with someone actually hurts twice as bad. You lose someone you love _and_ you lose the person who you seek out to be comforted by.” Akaashi continued on another train of thought, as if he was alone, or at least didn’t fully realize that he had spoken out loud.

“Thank you, that really fucked me up.” Hanamaki said after a beat, during which everyone probably thought through what Akaashi had said.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said slowly, assessing Akaashi’s state. “How many glasses have you drunk already?” He noted the slow way Akaashi was blinking.

“I don’t count when it’s free.” Akaashi answered quietly and looked down to the empty glass in his hand.

“Shit,” Kuroo cursed under his breath. Akaashi was drunk – not just delightfully tipsy or sufficiently buzzed, but unbelievably smashed. Someone had to make sure Akaashi got home alright. He would ask Bokuto, but the man had already left with a grey cloud hanging over his head, and Suga was obviously preoccupied with his gallery and the absence of Oikawa. He looked at Tsukishima, who was obviously teasing, completely straight-faced, Hinata for his ‘short comings’ again, as the orange haired man was jumping up and down behind people to see a photo.

Making up his mind, Kuroo took the glass from Akaashi’s hand and gave it to Hanamaki. “I’m taking Akaashi home,” he informed everyone and took Akaashi’s arm to gently steer him.

“Alright, get there safely,” someone said after them, Kuroo couldn’t tell who.

“Kei,” he called for his boyfriend’s attention as he was passing him by on the way to the front door. “Let’s take Akaashi home.”

Tsukishima took one look at Akaashi, at his placid expression that hid behind it entire worlds and galaxies, and with a condescending pat on Hinata’s head, followed them out. Kuroo knew Akaashi didn’t look drunk, and he would probably have to properly explain why he was cutting their ‘date’ short just to take one of his close friends home.

Akaashi wasn’t stumbling or swaying which was a good sign, and Kuroo knew they could walk home without problems. The fresh air could help Akaashi clear the haze of alcohol from his brain too.

“What happened, Akaashi?” he asked once they were outside. He buttoned up Akaashi’s coat while they waited for Tsukishima to make sure that he didn’t catch a cold. 

Akaashi didn’t answer right away, just blinked slowly until they started to walk down the street, seamlessly blending within the people going from point A to point B.  

“Did you and Bokuto have a fight?” Kuroo prompted for Akaashi to start talking, thinking about the comment about breaking up Akaashi had said just a moment ago. It was obvious they had had a fight, but the severity of it was still unclear – had they really done the unspeakable and broken up? It wasn’t 2012 anymore, but the world was definitely coming to an end.

“Suga knows about the bet.”

Kuroo stopped, as if he had walked to a wall, in shock. He looked at Akaashi warily, his questions concerning Akaashi and Bokuto flown out the window. “How does he know? Did you tell him?” He demanded to know, but all he got as a response was a shrug.

“I don’t know how he knows, but he knows.”

“Shit,” Kuroo whispered, his mind reeling with this new piece of information. Too much was happening at the same time, and he was afraid that everyone wouldn’t come out of this particular tornado shaking their group of friends unscathed. But he couldn’t think about Suga knowing right now. First, he had to get Akaashi home and get to the bottom of his and Bokuto’s apparent conflict. _Then_ he could deal with Suga knowing. And then he’d have to figure out what was Oikawa’s problem.

Kuroo could understand how Alice must have felt when she fell down the rabbit hole.

 

 

...

 

 

 

Suga had been anxious to get home for the past two hours or so. Not because he had found the exhibit stifling or anxiety inducing in any way – he’d had kind of fun with all things considered. But one of his friends had mysteriously decided not to show up, and Suga was worried.

What if something had happened? And if so, what was that something that had happened?

He hoped that Oikawa was fine, healthy and hadn’t lost a limb or hit his head and gotten an amnesia. Or been abducted by aliens, coming to fetch their overlord. Those were excuses that Suga could easily understand. But if Oikawa had decided not to come because of other reasons, well, Suga was actually looking forward to hearing them.

He had thought the previous evening that Oikawa would come to his exhibit. Hell, he had planned his original confession on that very specific detail.

He knew that they needed to talk, especially because of that kiss. It was most important that he told Oikawa how he felt, and he would love to hear something similar from the other as well. He already knew that Oikawa liked him, but it would still be undeniably nice to hear it, one more time, when he could really and finally understand what Oikawa was saying with “I like you”.

His skin was alive with constant tingling of nerves as he neared their building, as he ascended the stairs and was already opening the apartment door. He was almost buzzing with excitement and anticipation of how their talk would go, what they would be to each other after it.

“Hey,” he said with a soft smile when he saw a familiar figure sitting on a couch watching TV. At least Oikawa hadn’t been abducted, and their microwave hadn’t killed him, which was a relief. Suga took his time with his coat and shoes, wanting to savor the moment of his confession and everything that came before it.

“Hey,” Oikawa said back so dismissively it turned Suga’s anticipation into cold shivers. He turned to lock the door to make sure they weren’t interrupted again like they had been last night before he went to the couch, apprehension building inside him with every step he took towards Oikawa, who had yet to genuinely acknowledge his presence.

“Did you make it to the gallery?” Suga asked carefully as he sat on the same couch with Oikawa, facing him, searching his eyes. He made sure to sound kind with his curiosity, and not accusing Oikawa of not coming. He reached across the small space between them to place his hand on Oikawa’s arm, to engage him into the conversation with him.

Oikawa moved his arm away from the touch, his gaze fixed on the TV, as if he was ignoring Suga. The move confused Suga, and he frowned as he tried to call back to another time when Oikawa would have dodged his touch – no such occurrence came to his mind.

“Yeah, I was there.” Oikawa answered after a beat, talking to the TV and not him.

“Why didn’t you say hi?”

“You looked busy,” was Oikawa’s quick answer  in a clipped voice – it didn’t sound quite sincere enough to be all he wanted to say, or even the _words_ he wanted to say.

Suga reached for Oikawa again, this time placing his hand gently on his shoulder. “I would’ve made time for you,” he said softly, fully meaning the words and smiling with the thought – he really would’ve made time for Oikawa, to show him the photo, to tell him how he felt.

“Whatever,” Oikawa’s tone was dismissive again and he shrugged Suga’s hand off of his shoulder, the gesture cold and standoffish. “How’s Terushima?” He looked at Suga for the first time when he asked, the distain clearly visible in his expression and hard to miss on his tone.

“He’s good,” Suga answered, uncertainty lacing his voice and diminishing it to an almost whisper. He was confused of Oikawa’s reasons to bring up his ex, but the apprehension that had built in him during their brief conversation had settled into his very bones, a small voice in his head telling him _why_ Oikawa mentioned him.

“Mm-hmm,” Oikawa hummed through tight lips, his eyes back on the TV. Suga was certain he wasn’t even actually watching, or following, the show, but that it was on to pretend that Oikawa was ignoring him. “You two getting back together?” Oikawa asked in a sarky tone then, surprising Suga completely. This conversation was going in every direction opposite of what he had thought earlier.

“No, of course not,” he answered, maybe a little too quickly to sound completely honest – even though he was being honest. The very idea of getting back together with Terushima was absolutely impossible for Suga to even think about. There was no way he’d get back together with him. He had made that rule about ex-boyfriends a long ago. Once they broke his heart, that was it. They could be friends, but that was all. Plus, “Why would you even ask that? He’s engaged.”

“You two looked pretty cozy together.” Oikawa stated and quickly got up, his long legs taking him to the kitchen. Suga got up to follow him, suddenly anxious to clear the misunderstanding Oikawa seemed to have.

“We’re just friends.” Suga stressed the word ‘friends’ with all his might.

“Is that why you asked him to the exhibit?”

“I didn’t ask him to come. He came.” Suga explained simply, as it was the truth. He hadn’t _asked_ Terushima to come, but he had mentioned the exhibit, and given an “open invitation” of sorts.

Oikawa didn’t believe him, if the jibe in his voice was any indicator. “Just like that? Just because he’s suddenly your friend?” He opened the fridge and studied the contents, looking as if every single thing inside had offended his ancestors. This gave Suga a moment to think of Oikawa’s words, his behavior.

“Why are jealous?” he asked slowly, coming to the realization that jealousy was the only reason that made sense for Oikawa to act like this. “Why are you jealous of him?”

“I’m not jealous,” Oikawa scoffed and closed the fridge too forcefully, the contents on the door jiggling and clinking against each other.

“He’s just a friend,” Suga said again, gentler now to drive his point home in a kinder manner.

“Right,” Oikawa sneered.

“He is,” Suga insisted. He could feel frustration starting to grow inside him and he wanted, desperately needed Oikawa to believe him. Terushima was only a friend, almost like Akaashi was to him but not as close, and it was important that Oikawa understood that. There was nothing romantic or sexual in the way he thought about Terushima. There was nothing left lingering between them. Why couldn’t Oikawa believe him?

The TV droned on in the background, the obnoxiously happy music clashing with the tense atmosphere in the kitchen.

Suga tried to come up with a way to deliver his words, and to find those words, to explain the situation in a way that Oikawa would believe him, that there was no need to get jealous. Just when the thought he had found the words, Oikawa threw him another curve ball.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Oikawa’s voice was accusing and Suga flinched at the bite of it, wanted to withdraw from the wall Oikawa’s crossed arms built between them. He asked it like he was demanding to know why Suga had killed his best friend, the love of his life _and_ his pet unicorn.

Suga closed his eyes with a quiet sigh. This was a better direction, maybe. At least he hoped so as he remembered the kiss from last night – how it had felt to kiss Oikawa and how it had caused his heart to beat with overwhelming joy when Oikawa kissed him back. He had known then, without the slightest shadow of a doubt that Oikawa liked him back. He could explain this so easily, and hopefully in a way that Oikawa would actually be open to hear.

“Because I like you,” Suga said softly as opened his eyes.

Oikawa’s eyes were still cold as ice, the way they pierced Suga sharp enough to wound him. “It didn’t seem that way. When you went with Akaashi right after.”

“I didn’t want to go,” Suga stepped forward, closer to Oikawa – who stepped further away. The island was now between them, as a barrier of sorts. “I really didn’t want to go,” Suga kept insisting in a gentle voice. He didn’t want to rise to meet Oikawa’s cold shoulder and accusations. He was already mad at his friends – he didn’t want to be angry with Oikawa too. “But Akaashi needed a friend then, he needed someone to talk to.”

“Right,” Oikawa’s chuckle was sarcastic and dry, his behavior dismissive as he looked away and out the window.

Suga was getting more and more frustrated with every off-putting gesture and tone of voice Oikawa was using. And that frustration was turning Suga agitated. Why was Oikawa so insistent on picking a fight with him? Why was he making everything so hard? Why, _oh why,_ was he so stubborn in his jealousy, so stuck in it?

“You would’ve done the same if Iwaizumi had come instead of Akaashi, saying that he needed to talk after another fight with Daichi.”

Oikawa let out a mocking laugh – cruel and belittling, unaffected and completely unamused. Suga hated the sound of it, with all his soul, and never wanted to hear it again. It made him bristle, the hairs at the back of his neck rising like that of a cat’s.

“Do you even know what they were fighting about the last time Iwa-chan was here?” Oikawa asked in the same way he did whenever he asked a rhetoric question of how stupid someone could be, his eyes boring deep into Suga in a way that made him want to hide. He answered his own question before Suga could even comprehend what he had been asked, the tone truly throwing him off.

“Of course you don’t,” Oikawa said with an unbelieving shake of his head. “You’re so astoundingly clueless.”

Suga waited, instinctively knowing he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.

“Daichi was in love with you, for years, and failed to mention that little factoid to Iwa-chan.”

Suga couldn’t breathe. He had already been holding his breath, and he could feel his lungs start to ache, his body readying to start fighting for air. But it wasn’t for what Oikawa had said, but how he said it. Suga’s eyes started to tear when his mind replayed the words Oikawa had said and the way he had said them. He had sounded mocking and judging, egregious and imperious, disparaging and depreciatory, all at the same time.

This wasn’t the Oikawa Suga had fallen for, this wasn’t the man he had had a crush on for months.

“I bet Bokuto and Akaashi’s fight had something to do with you too.” Oikawa stopped to breathe heavily, as if he had just run a marathon, or taken part in an actual fist fight.

“So, congratulations, Sugawara Koushi,” Oikawa said his name with sneer, “for having  a smile so beautiful it causes men to fall in love with you, and for acting clueless about it so you don’t have to care if they end up hurt.”

Suga had never been so offended in his life. And he had been at the receiving end of some very offending slurs, thrown at him without any provocation, just for being himself.

He ran his fingers through his hair, disheveling the for-once-meticulously styled hair, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. He couldn’t understand how Oikawa could say such things to him, how Oikawa himself could be so clueless and hurtful. He blinked his tears away and took a deep breath.

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered in the still air between them. He was looking slightly down and in front of him at fixed point that only he could see through the blurriness in his eyes, trying to steady his breathing. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Oikawa had picked up a fight with him over nothing, over Terushima of all things, and then blown it up to World War Three proportions.

He didn’t want to fight, but it seemed to be all Oikawa wanted to do. The impenetrable ice and unyielding steel in his eyes didn’t let Suga in, didn’t give him a chance to explain or to defend himself.

“You could’ve just told me you’re not into me, instead of kissing me and then running off with Akaashi, and flirting with Terushima.” Oikawa’s words and tone were to the point, if what he said had been in any way what Suga had meant to do. He was into Oikawa, was falling in love with him. He wanted to kiss him every living second he had left in his life. He didn’t want to run off with Akaashi, or flirt with Terushima. Or with anyone else for that matter. He wanted Oikawa, pure and simple.

“You knew I liked you, I knew you could tell.” Oikawa kept up with his accusing tone, not giving Suga a second to try and find his own voice through the thick layers of hurt and tears that was mounting on him with every word that passed Oikawa’s lips. “You could’ve told me instead of hurting me by parading your ex-boyfriends in front of me.”

 

 

And that was it.

 

 

Suga was done.

He couldn’t hear anymore, not without tears spilling and falling down. And his heart... His heart...

He didn’t want Oikawa to see how he hurt him. This Oikawa, his accusations didn’t deserve to see Suga at his most vulnerable.

“If it’s going to be this hard to be with you when we’re not even together, is it ever going to be worth it?” Suga asked in an unsteady voice, his words wavering with uncertainty and tears that he couldn’t stop. He took a step back from the island, biting his lip to stop the trembling, and without another look at Oikawa, he turned to cross the living room to the front door.

In a matter of seconds he was out of the apartment and running down the steps into the cold night air.

He had woken up so happy, so excited – and this was how it had ended.

 

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little tip for everyone: don't watch your favorite videos of your favorite artist's dancing when you're supposed to write. It's distracting. 
> 
> With that said, I'm incredibly excited to post this chapter

 

 

 

Oikawa had fucked up.

He knew, at the back of his mind, in his very core and in the deepest recesses of his soul, that he had fucked up.

He knew he had monumentally screwed everything up when he reread the card Suga had filled and given to him, accompanied by one of his most beautiful smiles.

He had misinterpreted everything and was regretting it now as he stared at the words on the card.

He knew he had been wrong.

Now he had to find a way to fix it – before it was too late.

 

 

...

 

 

The night air was temperate, something that Suga definitely wasn’t feeling like as he walked aimlessly, as if he was a part of a school of fish and was following the other people on the street at random, walking where they were leading.

The tears had dried a while ago, swiped away on Suga’s jacket’s sleeves. Now his buffy eyes were the only visible trace left of how Oikawa had hurt him. On the inside, though, was where Suga was still carrying the wounds Oikawa’s belittling and dismissing tone had left.

The directionless walking wasn’t helping with his unsettling thoughts, and he had to stop. A couple of passerby’s looked at him in annoyance for stopping in middle of the street, but he was too preoccupied to notice, a mantra in his head repeating “I shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have said it,” going on and on without a respite.

He should probably go somewhere – he couldn’t spend the whole night out on the streets. The forecast had promised rain, and he didn’t have an umbrella with him. He sighed as he looked around. He needed to figure out where he was so he could figure out where to go. He was surprised that he hadn’t walked far from home, or maybe he had just walked in circles, turned left too many times.

But he couldn’t go home yet – he didn’t want to face the jealous Oikawa and hear accusations again.

He didn’t feel like going to any of his friends, not with the bet still going on. He knew Asahi was probably with Nishinoya – he had seen them leave together after they had profusely congratulated him at the exhibit. And he knew that Akaashi was busy with his own problems with Bokuto – so that was a no go as well. Everyone else was excluded from consideration because of the bet.

He let out a frustrated sigh as he thought about the bet, and how it had ruined everything. There was too much going on at the same time, and Suga felt as if he was losing control of his life. He needed to get back in control, he needed to gain some perspective, he needed to talk to someone.

He saw a small café across the street that was still open, and it gave him an idea.

With everything else going on, it really was the only option if he wanted to avoid the rain and to give Oikawa some time to cool off. He held fast with that decision as he neared the building he had last been at in December.

 

 

...

 

 

“What are we going to do, Hajime?” Daichi asked for the umpteenth time as he walked across the living room from one end to the other and then again.

“I’m sure Suga will forgive you. Us,” Hajime said calmly, mostly so just to try and calm Daichi down.

They both were still wearing the slacks and button up shirts they had put on for Suga’s exhibit, and Hajime loved how handsome Daichi looked in the get up, how tight the slacks were on Daichi’s thighs. He himself was creating flappy pouches on the knees of his slacks with the way he was sitting – his feet on the couch, his knees up.

“No.” Daichi shook his head, sounding dead serious, as if he was standing by a close friend’s grave. “This is bad.”

“This is Suga we’re talking about. He’ll understand that no one meant any harm with the bet.”

“What if he won’t listen?” Daichi asked, his frantic behavior holding steady and unchanged. At least it wasn’t getting worse, which Hajime found a real relief. “He hates it when others interfere with his relationships, no matter if they’re doing it to help.”

“He hates others’ interference, but has no qualms about doing it to others?”

This stopped Daichi and he looked at Hajime like he had grown a third head. “Do you mean with us?”

Hajime shrugged.

He did mean him and Daichi, and how Suga and Oikawa had ‘forced’ them to reconciliate by ‘locking’ them into their apartment. He sometimes wondered if he should be a little pissed at the two for it, but it was hard to be mad when it had brought him and Daichi closer together. Strangely, after years of dating and living together, they still managed to somehow become even more open with each other. Maybe he should be thanking Suga and Oikawa, but then again, that might encourage them to do it more often, when this one time was enough.

“Trust me, Hajime,” Daichi said and resumed his frustrated marching. “It’s bad that Suga knows. I mean, he hates it when people bet on other people’s lives, he hates it when people bet money, and he hates that others interfere with his relationship. Well, ‘hate’ is a strong word. He _dislikes_ it.”

Hajime followed Daichi’s movements with his eyes while the man ranted. He knew that Daichi and Suga were very close friends, and he knew that something like this could upset Daichi enough to ramble and worry about it, which is something the man rarely did out loud. He found it endearing, really, how Daichi ranted worriedly, and for no reason since they were _very close friends._ But he couldn’t help but wonder whether Daichi had been this distraught over their fight too.

“Babe, come here,” he called when Daichi turned at the rain splattered window to cross the floor to the other side for the thirtieth time. “You walking a groove into our floor won’t help. Sit down.” He reached his hand out and Daichi took it willingly, a sheepish look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for ranting like this. I know that Suga is a sore subject.” Daichi said as Hajime pulled him to join him on the couch.

“Don’t apologize.” Hajime squeezed Daichi’s hand. “We’re okay,” he assured with a steady look. “And you, and everyone, can apologize to Suga the next time you see him. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

Daichi rested his forehead on Hajime’s shoulder. “I really hope you’re right. I don’t want to know what it’s like to fight with Suga.”

Hajime was surprised. “You’ve never fought?”

“Never,” Daichi lifted his head to answer.

“Well, I’m sure that someone with your thighs,” Hajime squeezed Daichi’s thigh, “can take on a beanpole like Suga.”

Daichi laughed at that, but it wasn’t the free sound it usually was. “Will your biceps help me and challenge him into an arm wrestling if it looks like I’m going to lose?” He asked almost desperately.

“Always,” Hajime promised and smiled a little. Daichi’s expression softened when he noticed it and he smiled in correspondence.

“You should smile more often, Hajime. It’s lovely,” Daichi said in a hushed voice, his index finger lightly tapped the corner of his mouth.

Hajime stopped smiling almost immediately and turned serious and harsh in a blink of an eye. “Maybe,” he agreed elusively and turned his head to look straight ahead. It made Daichi laugh again, and the corners of Hajime’s lips twitched upwards right before Daichi grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss.

 

 

...

 

 

“Hey,” Terushima said with a small smile when he opened the door for Suga.

“Hey,” Suga greeted back, less enthusiastically. “Thank you for buzzing me in.”

“Of course. Come in.” Terushima gestured with his hand and Suga stepped inside the familiar apartment, or well, and apartment that used to be familiar. It looked different now. “What brings you here?”

“I could use a friend right now.” Suga said softly as he took off his shoes and slightly wet coat – it had started to drizzle right before he had gotten to the building – and hung it up. 

Terushima nodded, his eyes appraising Suga for a moment. “Are you hungry? I just made dinner.”

“You _just_ made dinner?” Suga followed Terushima to the kitchen. “It’s eleven o’clock at night.”

Terushima chuckled a little. “Sit down,” he directed Suga towards the table. “I was working with new recipes when I got home from your exhibit and the time got away from me.”

“That still happens?” Suga let the fondness of nostalgia lace his tone. It had been a recurring thing with Terushima to sink into new experiments and variations to the pastries he wanted to sell at his café. Suga wasn’t all that surprised that it was still a thing, since it had been a thing before they had dated.

“It still happens,” Terushima verified while he busied himself with setting down dishes for them.

“That explains the wonderful and warm smells in here.” Suga observed the baked goods cooling down on the counter. They looked like masterpieces Suga knew he could never even attempt to recreate.

“You can try them if you want to.” Terushima was smiling at him when Suga looked up from the tempting delicacies, but his eyes were sharp and definitely studying Suga.

Suga shook his head. “Maybe later.”

Terushima nodded and handed a bowl to Suga. “I only made ramen since it’s late.”

“Ramen’s perfect. Thank you,” Suga smiled back and accepted the offered dish and chopsticks.

“What do you want to drink?”

“Water, please.” Suga answered while he was filling his bowl.

Terushima placed a glass of water in front of him, and another where he would be sitting.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Terushima said with a smile and went to get food for himself too.

“Is it weird that I’m here?” Suga asked carefully, swirling the noodles with his chopsticks, his eyes following the long and seemingly endless strings go round and round in the bowl.

“No,” Terushima answered from the stove. “Does it feel weird to you?”

“Strangely,” Suga said slowly, mulling the thought in his head. “No.”

“Good,” Terushima smiled widely as he sat down across from him. “Eat Suga,” he urged then and dove in himself.

Suga did eat, a little. He was hungry, and the food smelled delicious. “This is really good,” he praised Terushima’s cooking skills, although they weren’t as good as Oikawa’s.

“I’m glad you like it,” Terushima said with a pleased smile. But he must’ve noticed that Suga didn’t feel like eating. While Suga spent the time between the small and few in between bites looking around, he ignored the way Terushima was studying him.

Everything in the kitchen seemed the same as if had months ago, the numerous and overflowing notebooks in the small open shelf between the cabinets, the small fridge with now _two_ time schedules. The overworked oven and the cupcake pans piled next to it. Even the table –

“Is this a new table?” Suga asked, tapping the surface. Somehow the previously round table had turned into a square one. And apparently his mind would make up conversation about anything so he could avoid the subject he had really come to talk about – and Terushima could see right through it, Suga knew. “Or is it Futakuchi-san’s old?”

Terushima humored him, even though he could clearly see through the transparent attempt to not talk about what was upsetting him, and smirked. “No, it’s new. We broke the old one and had to replace it.”

“How’d you break it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Suga’s mind could conjure up a sleuth of images of possible scenarios of what had happened to the table, and decided that, “You’re right, I don’t want to know.”

Terushima chuckled shortly. “No, you really don’t.”

“Do you realize that you just confirmed what I think happened and why the table broke?” Suga resisted the good-natured grimace.

Terushima chuckled again. “Is it that bad to know that we have sex?”

“No,” Suga replied and took a deep breath. “But I’d still prefer not to think about it.”

“I get it.” Terushima flashed a small smile, and Suga knew he truly did. “We can move on from this subject.”

Suga nodded and looked around again. “Where is Futakuchi-san?” he turned back to Terushima when he noticed the absence, a little belatedly, but he finally got there.

“This isn’t changing the subject, Suga.” Terushima pointed out with a raised eyebrow and took a sip from his water.

Suga tilted his head, waiting for an answer. It felt, not wrong but not entirely right either, to be in Terushima and Futakuchi’s home with just one of them, and he needed an answer.

“He’s at work.”

“Where does he work?” Suga was curious to know. He knew next to nothing about Futakuchi, and previously he hadn’t wanted to know a thing. But now, if he and Terushima were to be friends, maybe it was time to find out, at least something.

“He owns a workshop where he restores furniture and he moonlights as a bartender.”

“Ah.” Suga smiled. “Is that how you met?”

Terushima smirked, not because he was teasing, Suga was sure, but because he had a ‘secret’. “Which one?”

Suga rolled his eyes. He knew Terushima’s tells and knew that Terushima only smirked _like that_ when he had something he wanted to tell, wanted to talk about.

“We met at the bar.”

“You two must make some killer dinner parties,” Suga spoke as if he was painting in the air what he was envisioning in his head. “Futakuchi-san with the cocktails and the alcohol and you with the food and desserts and the sugar.”

Terushima laughed. “I’ve missed your sense of humor. Which reminds me – “ He got up and left the kitchen, but was gone maybe ten seconds before he came back with a card that he handed to Suga. “I really enjoyed this one.”

Suga smiled at the critique card in his hand, but his smile turned melancholy as he thought about the critique card he had given Oikawa. He wished Oikawa remembered to read it. It was a confession Suga hadn’t planned on, but had still acted on. He so wished Oikawa would read the card and understand how seriously he meant the words written there.

“I’m going to frame it.” Terushima stated seriously as he sat back down.

Suga burst out laughing, pulled away from his thoughts on Oikawa. “You were supposed to leave these, filled with your opinions.”

“I did,” Terushima assured. “I swiped that on my way out.” He pointed to the card. “I’m seriously thinking of framing it.”

Suga laughed quietly and placed the card on the table between them with a small sigh. “You’re weird.”

“Look who’s talking,” Terushima scoffed with amusement.

Suga smiled in response, but his mind was still too preoccupied to truly let himself be happy, even though the feeling and atmosphere with Terushima was quite enjoyable. It was like they really were friends and had been nothing but friends the whole time they had known each other.

Terushima must’ve noticed, or maybe finally decided to address, the strain in everything Suga did, the sadness behind every smile. He turned serious as he pushed his empty bowl to the side and rested his arms on the table in front of him. “Can we finally talk about the real reason why you’re here, why you’re upset?” 

Suga sighed heavily with defeat and dropped his eyes to his bowl while he took a moment, a long moment, as he pushed the food around with the chopsticks. “I had a fight with Tooru.” He looked up to Terushima to see how he’d react.

Terushima’s eyes narrowed, as if he was trying to remember something. “Your roommate?” he asked uncertainly, until a ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips. “You call him Tooru? You must really like him.”

“We’re just familiar with each other.”

“No,” Terushima denied and shook his head. “You really like him.” He smiled knowingly, as Suga knew he would. He knew that Terushima could see right through him, could read him like few others could. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be so upset about the fight.”

Suga didn’t feel the need to confirm Terushima’s presumption, but he didn’t deny it either – no matter how hard it felt at that moment to admit to himself how much he really liked Oikawa when he had just been hurt by him.

“What did you fight about?” Terushima asked curiously, kindness warming his tone.

It had been easy to talk to Terushima about everyday things just a minute ago, but now that the conversation had moved onto Oikawa, Suga found it hard to say a word. “He saw me talking with you at the gallery and got jealous.” He spoke to the food he knew was cold at this point.

“Sorry.”

“And he wouldn’t believe me when I told him that there was no need to get jealous.” Suga glanced at Terushima, once again to see his reaction. However, there was nothing but sympathy in Terushima’s expression, sympathy that Suga believed was genuine. So, he figured it was safe to elaborate more, to talk about other things that had come up, what Oikawa had thrown at him. “And then he...” Suga bit his lip – it was surprisingly hard to talk about this. “He told me that Daichi used to be in love with me and...” His knee was bouncing under the table with anxiousness he rarely experienced.

He had to stop so he wouldn’t burst out crying. The tears had welled his eyes suddenly – it hurt more than he thought it would to talk about _this_ secret that had been kept from him as well.

“That must’ve been hard to find out.” Terushima’s voice was gentle, his eyes even more so. He wasn’t studying Suga anymore, probably stopped doing so once Suga opened up, but he looked like he understood how Suga was feeling.

Suga nodded and closed his eyes as he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. He ran his hands over his face and down the sides of his neck, leaving them behind it.

“Is that the reason you’re not at Sawamura’s, talking with him about the fight with Oikawa?”

“That too.” Suga dropped his hands to his lap, along with his gaze.

“Why didn’t you go to any of your other friends then?”

Suga looked up to Terushima’s gentle but inquisitive eyes with mild surprise. How was it possible for Terushima to ask the right questions, to land to the correct assumptions?

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t your first choice to go to.” Terushima answered his silent question.

Suga pushed the bowl away and leaned his crossed arms on the table. “They made a bet on when Oikawa would tell me that he likes me.”

Terushima frowned as he leaned his back to the back of the chair, and was silent for a beat, as if he was trying to process what he just heard, as if he couldn’t believe that he had heard right. “I’m offended for you, Suga.”

Suga chuckled weakly.

“Seriously, that’s really shitty of them.”

“They were probably just having a little fun.”

“They still shouldn’t have done it. And the bet must’ve been going on for a long time. Even I could tell that Oikawa liked you back in January.”

Suga was surprised. “January?”

Terushima nodded and got up to put their dishes away. “He came to the café and he was breaking up with his boyfriend or something.” Terushima busied himself with the rest of the ramen left over, his back turned to Suga, as he continued. “I talked to him a bit after it, about something I was struggling with at the time but I’ve gotten over since. I don’t even remember why I thought it a good idea to talk to him about it.” Terushima’s voice faded away as he sunk into his thoughts.

Suga followed Terushima’s movements around the kitchen, letting him think through whatever it was that had come to him. He figured Terushima had meant Kageyama with Oikawa’s ‘boyfriend’. The silence gave him another chance to think too.

“Anyway,” Terushima was suddenly back as he closed the fridge and came back to sit by the table. “What I’m trying to tell you is that he was very protective of you. It was easy to see how much he liked you, as more than just a friend.”

Suga found it comforting to know that Oikawa truly liked him. And he could understand why Oikawa had said what he had said – it made sense for Oikawa to lash out if he was jealous, and more than anything hurt too.

Suga buried his face into his hands, his elbows on the table. “Is it selfish of me that I never noticed that he liked me? Or that Daichi loved me?” Suga asked uncertainly, his words muffled against his palms, hating a little that he couldn’t tell, how clueless he had been.

“No,” was Terushima’s instant answer, delivered deadpan and seriously. Suga parted his fingers to look at him. “It’s fine, it really is.” Terushima was stressing the words, and Suga was inclined to believe him. “It just means that you have a very lacking opinion about yourself –“

Suga wanted to scoff but refrained from doing so.

“ – if you can’t see that someone likes you until they expressly say it to you.” Terushima finished.

“I knew you liked me.” Suga dropped his hands to say.

“After I told you.” Terushima phrased it pointedly, but with a gentle tone. “On our first date, I told you I found you endlessly interesting and that I liked you.”

Suga smiled a little at the memory.

“I could tell you had no idea until I said it, since you became a lot more unguarded and smiled a lot more freely, talked a lot more freely after it.”

“Oh.” What Terushima said resonated in Suga’s brain, every word making sense. Maybe Terushima was right.

“It’s okay, I promise.” Terushima assured.

“Then, why didn’t I believe Oikawa when he told me he liked me?” Suga asked. This was something he had wanted to solve on his own, but now that they had scratched the surface of it, why not bring it up?

“He told you?” Terushima furrowed his brow, clearly not understanding what Suga really meant.

“He told me he liked me,” Suga repeated. “But I never realized that he meant romantically. I always assumed that he meant that I was fun to hang out with, a good friend.”

Terushima smiled, looking amused. “Do you hear yourself Suga?” he asked with a slight smirk.

“Yes,” Suga sighed, realizing what Terushima had said earlier made absolute sense. He had a low view of himself if he couldn’t think that someone would like him, or love him.

“It would mean someone was an absolute monster of a human being if they didn’t like you for who you are. Because you are endlessly interesting, and unbelievably sweet and, above all, a very loyal friend. Who wouldn’t fall for you?”

Suga was humbled, with different kind of tears welling in his eyes, for these ones weren’t caused by sadness or upset. Maybe he needed this little pick-me-up. He looked out the small window, blinking the tears away, and saw the darkness of the night, the raindrops sliding down on the glass.

“Do you want to sleep here?” Terushima offered in a quiet voice, apparently unwilling to break the sudden softness and comfort of friendship surrounding them in the small kitchen. “I promise it’s fine with both of us.”

Suga glanced at his wrist watch and noticed that it was already nearing midnight. “No,” he shook his head as he shook his sleeve back to cover his watch. He knew he shouldn’t stay much longer at Terushima’s, even if it was okay with Terushima and Futakuchi. “I should go home.”

“You don’t want Oikawa to find out you were here so he won’t get jealous for nothing again?”

Suga nodded his confirmation that Terushima’s guess was correct. “We can still be friends,” he hurried to reassure when Terushima looked a little letdown. “I just need to talk to Tooru.”

“I understand.”

Suga smiled warmly as he got up. “Thank you for the food.”

“You barely ate anything,” Terushima chuckled as he got up as well.

“Still, I’m grateful for the food. And for listening to me. This probably wasn’t the easiest topic for us to talk about.” Suga spoke as he made his way back to the front door and started to put his shoes on.

“You’re welcome. And no, it wasn’t easy like small talk about weather could be,” Terushima said as he leaned his shoulder against a wall. “But I was happy to listen,” he added with a half of a shrug, like it really wasn’t a big deal for them to talk about Suga’s crush on Oikawa and the fight with him.

“Thank you,” Suga said again with a sincerely grateful smile and pulled his coat on. It wasn’t wet anymore, but he knew it would be once he got home.

“Here.”

Suga looked to Terushima and saw him holding an umbrella towards him. He looked up to Terushima’s eyes with astonishment.

“It’s raining outside.”

“I know,” Suga said quietly and took the umbrella. “But isn’t this mine?” He recognized the white and black stripes and the promotional logo on the strap.

“It’s the only think you ever left here.” Terushima explained, with another half-shrug, this one a little bit sadder.

Because – Suga looked down at the umbrella in his hand in horrified wonderment – this was the only thing he ever left at Terushima’s apartment during their six months long relationship?

“Sorry I never got it back to you.”

“It’s alright,” Suga looked up to say with a smile that was a poor imitation of an apology and dropped his hand, the umbrella swinging freely from the strap of it. “You gave it back now.”

“Yeah,” Terushima drawled, his eyes on the umbrella. “I’m going to need it back. It’s the only umbrella I have.”

“You can always buy a new one. They’re not expensive.” Suga said lightly.

“I guess,” Terushima shrugged fully now as he straightened away from the wall he was leaning to. “But I’m kind of attached to that one.”

“I’ll get it back to you.” Suga promised with a small warm smile. “At some point.”

Terushima chuckled. “Take your time.”

Suga flashed a wider smile and opened the door. “Bye Yuuji.”

Terushima lifted his hand in a little wave, right before the door closed.

 

Suga opened the umbrella once he was out on the street, and begun his walk back home with sure steps.

He needed to talk to Oikawa, and that was what he was going to do. He needed to get through to Oikawa that there was no need to be jealous, that he only liked him. He wanted to take away Oikawa’s hurt, and it was more important to him than anything else.

He couldn’t do it that night, though. He was exhausted like he had never been, emotionally drained and physically spent. He was strong, he could get through anything. But with everything that had already happened that day, he knew he couldn’t hear another groundless accusation from Oikawa, or face another judging gaze.

Once at home, he tiptoed to his room so he wouldn’t wake Oikawa up, and fell on his bed without changing his clothes or going through any of his other preparations for sleeping. He had left the wet coat and umbrella by the front door, letting them drip on the tiled floor.

Now alone in his room, the tears that he had fought off earlier came again. And now that he was alone, he let them fall, wiping them into his sleeve with gentle hands.

Ultimately he was worried that Oikawa wouldn’t be willing to talk to him. That he wouldn’t want to hear him, too stubborn to accept any explanation. He was worried that their friendship was ruined and that Oikawa would move after graduation before they’d have the chance to fix what had become broken.

With every tear that he wiped away, he hoped that Oikawa was willing to hear him out that he hadn’t meant it when he wondered if Oikawa would be worth the effort of trying to make a relationship work. With every ragged breath he hoped that Oikawa regretted at least a little what he’d said.

Then, and only then, he could forgive Oikawa. The apology was the start.

As sure as he was of how to proceed, he couldn’t help but think about the mess that they had become. His worry grew and his tears kept coming. He was tired, but that night sleep evaded him, turning him even more exhausted when morning came.

 

 

...

 

 

In the morning, Oikawa saw Suga’s closed door and knew that his _roommate_ was home, but he didn’t go and talk to him. He didn’t know what he would say. He probably should apologize, but how could he do so in a way that Suga would understand that he was being sincere? The critique card was a heavy weight in his pocket, and even heavier in his heart.

He should probably talk his mistake through with someone, but it would have to wait until after his meeting with his advisor, who had promised to help him in preparation to defend his thesis. He already knew that his mind would be preoccupied with Suga and the fact that he had fucked up. But he couldn’t cancel on this. So, he bit his teeth and left the oppressively silent apartment with uncertainty of what he might come back to hovering over him like the darkest shadow he had ever experienced.

 

 

...

 

 

Akaashi woke up with a fuzzy feeling in his body and a steadily throbbing head, as if his brain had grown three sizes and was too big to fit into his skull, and he immediately regretted drinking so irresponsibly last night.

With a suppressed groan he opened his eyes and studied the dim room with his bleary eyes. The blackout curtains – that Bokuto had gotten years ago, before they were even dating, because he was a night owl that needed to sleep during the days but couldn’t with the sun shining in – had been drawn, making it impossible for Akaashi to assess the time of the day. It didn’t take long for him to realize where he was – once he saw the photo Suga had gifted him and Bokuto, of them for their anniversary, he knew he was in their bedroom, lying in their bed. He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer due to exhaustion and headache.

“Hey.”

The voice that greeted him was soft and gentle, almost unlikely for the owner of the voice to sound so, but it was still recognizable to Akaashi and he rolled over to his other side, towards it.

“How do you feel?”

A warm hand touched his forehead, as if to check if he had fever, and then settled on his cheek.

He nuzzled the hand instinctively and let out a quiet sigh, knowing he was taken care of, loved. He opened his eyes just a little, enough to see Bokuto sitting cross-legged next to him on the open space of the bed, looking like a puppy that had been kicked.  

“Thirsty,” he answered the question, and a moment later a glass of water was offered to him.

“Drink it all if you can. You’ll feel better.”

Akaashi nodded and raised himself up a little on his forearm to drink without spilling on the pillow under his head. He gasped after a long sip, and then drank more. The water felt like a salve to wounds, settling in his stomach like a cooling patch. He kept looking at Bokuto the whole time, in little glances, trying to assess where the man’s head was at.

Once he had emptied the glass, he gave it back to Bokuto and lied back down. “Can I ask you something, Bokuto-san?” He kept looking at his boyfriend, trying to find any clues of what the man was possibly thinking.

Bokuto turned back to him from setting the glass down on his bedside table and nodded, but didn’t look any different from the kicked puppy.

“How did I get here?” Akaashi asked with an imperceptible frown – his mother had taught him at a young age that he shouldn’t frown or he’d get lines.

“You don’t remember?” Bokuto looked surprised by this.

Akaashi shook his head as little as he could – he didn’t want the uneasy feeling of nausea to get any worse.

“Kuroo brought you.”

“Oh.”

“You really don’t remember?”

“No, I’m sorry I don’t. I only remember going to Suga’s exhibit. Were you there as well?”

“I was, for a while.” Bokuto answered, this time his eyes studied Akaashi, as if he was assessing him. “Once Kuroo got you here, to the front door, I guided you to the bed and you were out like a light the second your head hit the pillow.”

Akaashi could visualize it like he could remember it, but he knew what he was thinking couldn’t be the memory of last night. But the thought of Bokuto taking care of him was easy to imagine.

“Why were you drinking so much last night?” Bokuto asked impossibly softly, his fingers pushing Akaashi’s curls behind his ear, his eyes worried but fond.

“I was certain you were going to break up with me.” Akaashi replied as softly, afraid to say the words in fear that they would become a reality if they were spoken too loudly, like a malicious spell.

Bokuto moved a little to lie down on the bed as well, on his side, and tucked his hands under his head, his eyes steady on Akaashi’s.

“Do you really want to break up with me?” Akaashi whispered, terrified of Bokuto’s answer.

“No, of course not,” Bokuto said with sudden fierceness that didn’t match the sadness and worry in his expression. “But if you’re going to leave to Osaka, I don’t know what we’re going to do.” He fell to lie on his back, looking up at the ceiling, while Akaashi denied such intentions at once.

“I’m not going to Osaka,” he said as seriously as he could. “There is nothing that could make me leave you for an internship.”

Bokuto turned his head to look at him. “Isn’t the internship important, though?”

“Not as important as you.”

There was the smallest smile on Bokuto’s lips, full of hope and joy.

“You’re the most important person in my life, there’s nothing more important in this world to me than you,” Akaashi kept going, growing stronger and stronger with his voice, more and more adamant, adding more and more meaning into his voice, into his words. “I know I’ve overlooked you these past months, and I apologize for that. I promise to make it up to you and I promise it will never happen again.” It really was that easy to promise when it’s with the person you love and you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with.

Bokuto’s smile grew wider and bigger with every word that Akaashi said, and at the end of it, he was downright beaming.

“In fact, I’ve made some plans for the future and they all include you.” Akaashi spoke calmly now and sat up slowly, with a slightly dizzy head that caused him to pause momentarily before he could reach to the bedside table on his side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Bokuto asked, sounding a little alarmed again, so Akaashi was as quick as he could in opening and closing the drawer, retrieving what he was looking for.

“I know we can’t get married,” he said and placed a small velvet box on Bokuto’s chest. “But we can get engaged.”

Bokuto’s eyes widened and he looked positively perplexed. “Are you proposing to me?” he asked reverently and gingerly picked up the box from his chest, and held it in his hand as if it was the most precious thing in the world while he inspected it.

“I had planned on doing it once I got my doctorate, but I wanted you to know now how serious I am about us and how much I love you.”

Bokuto sat up, still holding the box in his hands like it was a baby owl. “You are proposing,” he stated then, looking at Akaashi with so much adoration and amazement that Akaashi couldn’t look back without feeling suddenly shy.

He dropped his gaze into his lap, and to his hands that he was itching to twist and rub together in anxiousness and embarrassment, but resisted to do so. He really hadn’t thought of proposing to Bokuto like this. No, he had planned a dinner at a fancy restaurant once he had gotten his doctorate, and ordering a bottle of champagne and sliding the box across the table with violins playing in the background. It probably sounded ordinary and something out of the hundreds of romantic movies that had some form of proposal depicted in them, and he knew that Suga for example would have come up with something much more original and witty, but he didn’t care. That was how he had planned it, and he was pleased with his plan. But he didn’t find any annoyance or inconvenience in him for presenting the ring to Bokuto this way, now.

“Can I put it on?” Bokuto asked, looking at him hopefully.

“No,” Akaashi decided, the resolve still strong in him to do it better, at a better time and in a better setting. Preferably when he wasn’t hungover and dizzy and nauseated. “I’m going to propose to you properly another day,” he said and took the box back from Bokuto slowly, letting their fingers touch and linger on each other. “But I wanted you to know that I’m not going anywhere. In fact, if you decide that you want to break up with me, I’d probably become a stalker, even though I find it very lame and most of all embarrassing.”

Bokuto laughed at that. For some reason the idea of stalkerish Akaashi seemed funny to him. Maybe Bokuto was envisioning him with spy gear, or maybe the joke only he knew had something to do with his opinion – that Akaashi was too pretty to remain single for long if the unspeakable happened and Bokuto wasn’t there anymore to brighten anyone’s day with his easy excitement.

Bokuto leaned forward to nuzzle Akaashi’s neck and proceeded to leave little kisses along his neck up to his cheek and all over his face with little giggles slipping in between. “I love you too, ‘Kaashi,” he said with endearment and continued with the flurry of kisses, his hands cupping Akaashi’s jaw.

“Do you think you’d say yes, if I were to ask you sometime in summer?” Akaashi asked as he let the feeling of kisses fill him with warmth and pink candy hearts.

“Yes,” Bokuto answered with an enthusiastic nodding. “I can’t believe you’ve been planning this.”

“We’ve been together for four years, Koutarou.” Akaashi pointed out patiently, slipping back to using Bokuto’s name, leaving the formalities behind once again. “Wasn’t it about time?”

“I don’t know.” Bokuto shrugged with an honest and open expression. “But I’m glad that you’ve been thinking about it.” He was beaming like the sun, his arms securely around Akaashi’s neck and shoulders.

“Good,” Akaashi said with a pleased, almost-there, smile and turned to put the box back into the bedside table drawer. When he turned back, Bokuto kissed him on his lips, passionately and a little sloppily. He didn’t mind it though, and when Bokuto lied back on the bed and pulled Akaashi with him, he went quite willingly.

“Ah,” Bokuto held him tighter against his chest. “I’m never going to break up with you ‘Kaashi.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good,” Akaashi voiced his thoughts calmly. “Not that our friends would let us break up anyway.”

Bokuto laughed, the sound loud and splitting Akaashi’s head. “You’re probably right,” the zealous man boasted their friends’ eager involvement in everything concerning others’ relationship.

“I know we’re both happy right now, but I’m still a little hungover.” Akaashi said quietly once Bokuto’s laughing died down into a wide smile Akaashi imagined the man was wearing. He didn’t need to say anything else, for Bokuto understood immediately.

“Do you want to sleep a bit more?” he offered, sounding concerned, his voice back to considerate level.

“Yes, please.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be here, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Akaashi permitted the man’s presence and lowered his head on his chest. He sighed in contentment as he closed his eyes, settling down where he had been settling for the past four years – in a warm embrace, feeling safe and loved.  

“I love you, Keiji,” Bokuto whispered into his hair, the air of his breath moving his curls a little.

“I love you too, Koutarou.”

They fell into a comfortable silence like they would into a hug, and Akaashi especially was already feeling a little better with his eyes closed.

“Koutarou,” he said quietly, wondering if the man was awake – his breathing was steady and slow.

“Mm-hm?”

“Do we have lube and condoms?”

“Yeah,” Bokuto answered slowly and unsurely, probably surprised and confused by the question. “Why?”

Akaashi didn’t let it stop him, though. “Once the hungover subsides we’re going to have sex,” he announced confidently.

Bokuto burst into laughter, the sound too loud, but Akaashi couldn’t fault him for laughing at what he had said. “’Kaashi!” He chided playfully. “I’m sorry for laughing, I know it’s not helping your headache,” he spoke in middle of amused and poorly contained chuckles, his hand gently petting Akaashi’s head.

“That’s alright, I understand.”

“Have you been spending time with Suga?” Bokuto asked, still laughing, the feeling of it traveling to Akaashi’s body as well.

“Maybe.”

Bokuto laughed again. “I’m so sorry for laughing.”

“I hope it doesn’t last long or we’ll never get to have sex.”

Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s efforts to stop laughing in the way his body struggled with the force of his now quiet chuckles and giggles. “I really love you, Keiji.”

“Love you, too,” Akaashi responded quietly.

“I’ll be quiet now, I promise. Go back to sleep,” Bokuto said, mirth coloring his voice and gently smoothing his hand up and down on Akaashi’s back, the other cradling Akaashi’s head.

Akaashi shifted a little on Bokuto, and once he felt more comfortable again, he chased his non-dreams to let his body recuperate from the after-effects of heavy drinking.

“But yeah, we’re definitely going to have sex once you feel better,” Bokuto spoke in a low voice, mindful of Akaashi’s slightly poor state. His hand was still smoothing on Akaashi’s back, easily sliding up and down over the cotton t-shirt Akaashi had no memory of putting on, while his other hand slipped into Akaashi’s curls and gently massaged his scalp. “It’s been ages,” Bokuto sounded quite nostalgic, and eager.

“Mm, can’t wait,” Akaashi agreed.

“Go to sleep, ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto chuckled lightly and kissed his forehead, as he continued spreading warmth into Akaashi with his large but gentle hands. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

 

 

...

 

 

Daichi had decided to use his morning productively. He knew that Suga would be home after his long evening at the gallery, and he wanted to go to him as soon as possible to apologize. He wanted to make everything right between them, regarding the bet that was the most ill-advised thing he had ever taken part in. He hadn’t come up with the bet or its rules, but he had placed a bet on a day, specifically on today.

The building was quiet, as it usually was during the daytime, as Daichi ascended the stairs to the second floor and knocked on Suga and Oikawa’s front door. He had tried to open it first, but found it locked. It wasn’t exactly surprising or necessary worrying. Maybe Suga and Oikawa had wanted some privacy.

But, Daichi had a bad feeling as he waited for someone to open the door. He of course had a key with him – he had used it to get into the building. However, he didn’t use it to open the apartment door, wanting to give the residents, who had unnaturally locked the door, the right to privacy if that was what they wanted.

He was already giving up on waiting and was about to leave, coming to the conclusion that Suga and /or Oikawa wanted to be alone and without interrupters, when he heard the lock turn.

A moment later he saw Suga, a very tired looking Suga, standing by the door. Had he just woken up? It was only nine in the morning so it was possible, but...

“Hey Daichi,” Suga even sounded tired, but not sleepy, and Daichi was instantaneously worried. Was this exhaustion from the exhibit? Or was it due to nightly activities, possibly with Oikawa that Daichi wouldn’t want to hear about? Or was it something altogether? Maybe Suga was too mad at everyone to fall asleep, fuming in his anger through the night. His eyes were red, and Daichi wondered whether the man had slept at all, or was it because of crying.

“Hey,” Daichi greeted softly, afraid that he would spook Suga. “Can I come in?”

“I’m sorry, no.”

“No?”

“No.”

Daichi was confused. “Why?”

Suga sighed, a given up sound rushing out of his lungs, and rested his head against the doorframe. “You know why.”

So he was mad. Daichi could apologize, he _should_ apologize. “I’m sorry, Suga, for the bet. We all are.”

“I can’t deal with it now.”

Daichi frowned, trying to catch up with wherever Suga’s mind was at. What was going on? “Did something happen? With you and Oikawa?” he asked slowly, trying to assess the situation.

“We had a fight, but...” Suga stopped abruptly and sighed. “Go home, Daichi.” Suga started to close the door, but Daichi couldn’t let him.

“Suga –“ he stopped the door from closing by planting his hand on it. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Go home. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Daichi blanched. “What?” he asked soundlessly, his lips moving but no voice would come out.

“I can’t deal with the bet now, I really don’t want to talk about it, and I really don’t want to end up hurting your feelings without realizing it.”

“What are you –“ Daichi stopped abruptly, his eyes widened as he realized with horror what Suga was talking about. “Suga,” he stressed with urgency, “did Oikawa say something to you?” If Oikawa had told Suga The Secret... Oh, the man had a hell to pay. Suga didn’t know for _a reason._

“Go home,” Suga said softly with a pleading look, his eyes tearing up. “I really don’t feel like hanging with anyone.”

With that, Suga closed the door carefully.

“What the hell?” Daichi wondered out loud, receiving no answer from the empty stairwell, or from the silent door standing impenetrable in front of him. He went through the short conversation in his mind, jotting down a little list of everything he had noticed.

Number one: Suga didn’t want to talk to him because of the bet – so, he was angry. Okay, Daichi could understand that. Number two: Suga was afraid of hurting him without realizing it – someone had slipped Daichi’s past love for Suga to him. That could be talked through, Daichi was sure of it, he wouldn’t let it ruin their friendship. Number three: Suga looking tired and defeated – Why did he look so heartbroken? Daichi had no idea, but he had his worst fears competing for the top spot as the most horrific possibility that had happened, if Suga had fought with Oikawa.

What if Suga had confessed to Oikawa? Shown him the photo? And Oikawa had said that he didn’t feel the same way, for whatever bullshit reason he might’ve had?

It was probably unnecessary to even mention that Daichi was furious – at Oikawa.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he weaved through the people walking on the street. His meeting with his advisor had gone well, despite his preoccupied thoughts stuck on Suga, and he was pleased about that. However, it was buried under the feeling of failure and uncertainty – and he disliked it enough to huff every now and then when someone slower than a snail happened to walk right in front of him. He couldn’t wait to get to the building, and once he got there, he jogged up the stairs to get to the door quicker. The names Iwaizumi and Sawamura written by the door read like they were mocking Oikawa for his failure. He knew he probably wouldn’t receive much love here once he told to both or one of them what had happened, but he had decided to get through it – he needed to talk to someone, and who was better for it than his best friend? Even if his best friend’s boyfriend happened to be his crush’s best friend?

He took a deep breath, in preparation for what he supposed was about to come, and to prepare himself to say the things he had said and now regretted.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Iwaizumi looked unhappier than usual, and his voice was harsher than usual, when he opened the door. It wasn’t exactly the kind of greeting Oikawa had expected, but somehow the anger and quickly spoken words in the severe tone felt fitting.

“Nice to see you, too.” Oikawa faked a grin, his voice higher than usual.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Iwaizumi asked again, calmer this time but not any less demanding for an answer.

“Can I come inside?” Oikawa asked as politely as he could in his dejected mood. He didn’t want to carry the conversation in the hallway, and he was quite sure that Iwaizumi and Daichi wouldn’t either.

“No, you can’t.” Iwaizumi denied instantly. “Not after what you did.”

“What did I do?” Oikawa asked innocently, maybe a little too innocently since the tone clashed to his own ear as a fake too.

“You know exactly what you did.”

How could they already know about the fight? Of what he’d said to Suga? Unless... Suga had told them.

Oikawa sighed. Iwaizumi’s tone was reminding him of worse times in their friendship, right after their break up. He really didn’t need that reminder now. _Not now._

“Please, I need to talk to someone.” Oikawa gritted his teeth to ask nicely. He wasn’t one to beg, but he knew he could manage it, that it wasn’t too far for him to sink to at the moment.

Iwaizumi studied him through narrowed eyes for an uncomfortably long while, the air between them growing tenser and more hostile as the time dragged on.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi finally relented and opened the door to let him pass. “But I promise you it won’t be friendly.”

“I gathered as much from your tone,” Oikawa informed Iwaizumi, with superiority in his voice he instantly regretted. He had already burned one bridge –he didn’t need to burn any more.

“What is he doing here?” Daichi bounced up from the couch the second he saw Oikawa.

“Wow, this is such a welcoming household I’ve walked into,” he commented dryly, not even trying to be nice anymore. It was tiring, and he really didn’t feel like being pleasant when he definitely didn’t feel the emotion at all. Not even a drop of kindness could be found in him at that time, not when he certainly wasn’t getting any of it back.

“That’s because you’re not welcome here.” Daichi crossed his arms in front of his chest as he spoke, fixing Oikawa with an impressive and intimidating scowl.

“Why? What have I done?” Oikawa asked again, demanding now, forgetting to act innocent and clueless of what he might’ve done. He knew what he had done, but he was a little surprised, and simultaneously not at all, that Iwaizumi and Daichi already knew about it.

“You know exactly what you’ve done.” Daichi responded, the hostility emanating from him and hitting Oikawa like waves that washed the shore over and over again.

Oikawa looked to Iwaizumi for help, but his best friend looked as unpleased of him as Daichi did. “Could you at least hear my side of the story before you judge me too quickly and condemn me to hell?” he asked, half-seriously. It was clear that Suga had told them what had happened, so why wasn’t he approved the chance to tell his side of the story. He knew it probably wouldn’t make him look any better, but at least he could explain how sorry he was for what he had said.

“Your side of the story doesn’t matter.” Daichi was adamant not to give him even the slightest sliver of compassion.

“Why not?” Oikawa looked between Iwaizumi and Daichi. “You seemed ready to hear Suga out.”

“You broke his heart!” Daichi yelled suddenly.

 

Oikawa didn’t have rebuttal to that, his mind blanking completely.

 

“You know what?” he spoke through gritted teeth so his voice wouldn’t tremble and lifted his hands up in surrender. He was done with whatever this was. “Forget I was even in here,” he said and opened the door, exiting the apartment as fast as he could before anyone could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga was pacing inside the apartment, going around and around in the living space – around the coffee table and the couch to the kitchen, around the island and then back to the living room, turning 180 and walking down the hallway to the very end, and then turning around again until he was circling the living room and kitchen again. He was periodically glancing at the time, trying to listen to the sounds of someone coming home, of Oikawa coming home. He was nervously, but lightly, tapping the screen of his cellphone in his hand, pondering on whether to call or text Oikawa, to ask him where he was.

When he got home last night, after his talk with Terushima, he had tiptoed through the quiet apartment into his room. He had been tired, the night emotionally draining. He had known, that waking up Oikawa wouldn’t help at all, and had crawled into his own bed with heavy exhaustion weighing him down.

At some point in the early morning he must’ve fallen asleep, since he had woken up to knocks on their front door. Once he got up, nervous and a little scared of what he might see or hear, he found that Oikawa wasn’t home. He had a faint memory of Oikawa saying something about a meeting with his advisor a day or two ago, and hoped that that was where Oikawa had gone to.

So, he had decided to wait for Oikawa to come home, to hope that he would come home. He wanted and desperately needed to talk to Oikawa. It was important that they cleared everything up. As hurt as Suga still felt about the things Oikawa had said, he was resolved to assure Oikawa that there was no need for him to get jealous. He was resolved to tell Oikawa once and for all how he felt about him.

He knew he needed to talk to Daichi too – especially after the way he had sent him away. He probably had needlessly worried Daichi more than he should with the way he had dismissed him, but he hoped that Daichi would understand once he got the chance to explain everything – and to apologize for never noticing that the man had been in love with him.

Suga stopped as he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. That had been a low blow from Oikawa, and Suga had honestly wondered if Oikawa had only said it out of spite, a lie he had come up with. But he knew Oikawa wouldn’t do that, no matter how much he had wanted to hurt Suga due to his misguidedly hurt feelings, he knew that Oikawa wouldn’t make anything up.

It was hard to accept that Daichi had once been in love with him, and hadn’t told him. Why on Earth hadn’t he said a word? It must’ve been hard for Daichi to see him with others, with Akaashi...

Suga sighed again and ran his hand through his hair. He couldn’t think about it now, one thing at a time. One thing at a time, he repeated to himself as he continued to pace. First, talk with Oikawa, confess to him. Then, talk with Daichi.

Suga stopped again when he heard faint footsteps in the stairwell, but when he heard them pass their door, he continued his indoor walk filled with reflection, fear and worry.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa knocked on Kuroo’s door, and leaned his forehead on the doorframe as he waited. His talk with Iwaizumi hadn’t gone at all the way he had hoped – he hadn’t expected much, but what he got was worse than he could have imagined.

Daichi had said that he had broken Suga’s heart and... It made every single regret Oikawa felt about the way he had spoken to and what he had said to Suga a hundred times worse. He had royally fucked up. But before he could go to Suga and apologize, he needed some advice, a sounding board. He knew Makki and Mattsun were still at work, so Kuroo it was.

He could hear the faint sound of steps leading up to the door, and the quiet murmurs, before the door opened, letting warm air into the hallway.

“Oikawa?” Kuroo sounded a little surprised, then worried. “You okay?”

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, not looking up and leaning his forehead to the doorframe.

“Now’s not a good time,” Kuroo said softly, an apology in his voice.

“Tsukishima-kun?”

“Yeah.” Kuroo confirmed his guess.

“Tsukishima-kun?” Oikawa asked louder, calling for the blond inside the apartment. “Do you mind if I come in and have a brief conversation with Kuroo about my failed relationship before it even was a relationship?”

“I don’t care,” came Tsukishima’s answer from somewhere inside and Oikawa finally looked up to Kuroo with utter defeat he didn’t have the will to mask anymore. He knew his eyes were probably a little red from the violent way he had rubbed his eyes to dry his tears as he had ran down the steps in Iwaizumi and Daichi’s building.

“Come in,” Kuroo said softly, pity lacing his words and let Oikawa in.  

It smelled of cookies inside, and Oikawa felt weirdly comforted by that smell. It wasn’t enough, though, and simultaneously too much since it reminded him of Suga. He leaned against the wall next to the door while Kuroo closed it, and slid down. He brought his knees closer to his chest, wrapped his arms around and rested his head onto them.

Kuroo grouched in front of him, a steady hand placed on his arm. “Is this about Suga?” he asked sympathetically, a condolence underneath it.

Oikawa made small nodding motions with his head. He took a deep breath, gathering strength to look up before he did so. He knew his eyes were filling with tears again, but he didn’t feel like hiding them anymore, not from Kuroo who was looking at him with so much depth and understanding he had no idea the man was capable of displaying.

“I fucked up.”

Kuroo nodded, once, and rubbed his arm with the hand that had held onto him steadily, comfortingly, like a tether, or a line to keep a boat tied to a buoy. “Tell me everything,” he urged kindly and sat down in front of Oikawa on the floor.

 

 

...

 

 

Hinata had retired from his studies to their bed, his feet up against the wall as he lay on his back, his hands holding Kenma’s old console as he played. He was concentrated on beating the boss when Kenma came home, his fingers frustratedly pressing the buttons.

He heard he jangle of the keys when Kenma dropped them on the small drawer by their door, the scuffle of shoes, and the creak of the bed when Kenma came next to him.

Kenma curled against his side like a cat, his hands grabbing a hold on Hinata’s hoodie, without a word.

Hinata knew already that he must’ve been exhausted – Kenma never spoke when he was tired from spending a day with people. He knew that Kenma had had a day filled with meetings, in rooms filled with people, and he had already expected this.

He remained where he was, offering silent support and comfort to Kenma in a way that he knew his boyfriend sometimes needed.

It made their apartment quiet in a familiar way, the only faint sounds filling their apartment coming from outside from the streets, or from the neighboring apartments. The silence had bothered Hinata first when they had moved in together, but he grew accustomed to it in no time, quicker than his parents had thought he would.

Sure, he was a lot more energetic and sociable than Kenma, a free spirit that could easily clash with someone withdrawn and introverted person like Kenma. His parents had been sure that they wouldn’t last, but he and Kenma had proven them wrong. Their love and mutual respect for each other had proven every doubter wrong.

“You should use your health potion now,” Kenma spoke up suddenly, but quietly.

Hinata glanced to his side and saw Kenma’s eyes on the game he was playing. He did as Kenma instructed, and was a few key strokes away from winning, finally, after about an hour of trying and failing.

“How was your day?” Hinata whispered, taking cue of Kenma’s use of quiet voice.

Kenma tightened his hold on Hinata’s hoodie and pressed closer, his head burrowing between Hinata’s neck and shoulder. “Loud,” he muffled his answer against Hinata’s neck. “And they had everyone try out a new VR. It was exhausting.”

“Was it at least a cool game?” Hinata asked excitedly, but still in a whisper. One of the absolutely wonderful perks of dating Kenma was the games they could get pre-release.

“I guess.” Kenma made a small shrugging motion. “You can finish the boss if you use a spell now.”

Hinata did as instructed again, and thanks to Kenma’s help, he won.

“Do you have practice tonight?” Kenma asked then, the victorious eight bit music carrying from the console providing the sweet background music.

Hinata lifted his cellphone from the bed and looked at the time. “I have to leave in a bit,” he answered and dropped his phone back where he had picked it up from. “Do you want to come with today?” He looked at Kenma hopefully as he asked.

Kenma nodded, and Hinata smiled. It was sweet how Kenma came to watch their team practice, even after a loud and exhausting day at work. He usually sat alone in the stands, hunched over with a game. But Hinata knew he followed the practice as well, offering quite insightful observations when they talked about volleyball – Kenma’s game sense was another delightful aspect that Hinata thoroughly enjoyed. Talking about volleyball was one of the things that had brought them closer when they started dating, respect and enjoyment of the game was something they shared. Even now, ever since their first date – that neither of them called ‘a date’ – Kenma still sometimes agreed to set to him.

Talking about dates, neither of them had ever thought of it as ‘dating’ when they went out together to do something, or just hang together playing volleyball or videogames. They had just fallen into spending time together and enjoying each other’s company to do it daily, and then they were moving in together. They shared companionship, offered comfort and security, but never anything sexual. And it was perfect for both of them.

Of course, first when they moved in together, Hinata had been a bit freaked out and jumpy, but Suga had been there to help him out, to talk to, to confide in. He had helped Hinata calm down, as much as he could with his easily excited nature, and Hinata was forever grateful for his advice.

“Inuoka-san is coming to the practice today as well.” Hinata said then, starting to get excited and his voice a bit louder to be heard over the over and over again looping game music. He set the game console down on his stomach as he started to look forward to the practice. “I haven’t seen him in ages, so it’s really cool that he’s coming today.”

“And Fukunaga-san has a new kitten that he’s been bringing to the practice. You get to see it today. It’s really cute, and a lot more vocal than its owner,” Hinata added, knowing how much Kenma liked cats. He sometimes entertained the thought of them getting a cat, and had made some tentative plans for the future to get one.

Kenma made a small sound of amused giggle. “Is it like your mascot?”

“No, Shirabu hates it and Kosuke is terrified of it. And it always ends up wandering into Aone-san’s bag and falling asleep there.”

Kenma body was trembling like a leaf with his silent laughter. “Can’t wait,” he said softly and sighed contently, melting against Hinata’s body, the shared warmth familiar and something they both sometimes sought after from each other.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga had given up on the pacing when his legs grew tired, and had sat down by his desk in his room, in front of his laptop. He glanced at the clock, probably for the fifteen-hundredth time that day, and sighed. It was already eight o’clock, and he was past worried of Oikawa’s whereabouts. He almost hoped that Oikawa had gone to one of their friends to find refuge, but more than that, he hoped that Oikawa would come home soon. He kept flipping through the photos of his exhibit on the laptop, moving quickly from one photo to the other, only pausing on the one of Oikawa.

It really was one of his favorites, one of his best – not just of Oikawa but out of all of his photos. It almost hurt to look at the photo and think of what they could have been, what they still could be, of what kind of opportunity they might’ve lost, and he once again started to mindlessly flip through the photos until he stopped when the photo of Oikawa came up again.

It was a vicious circle, and Suga hoped that Oikawa would come home soon so he could stop.

“Suga-chan?”

Suga looked up in surprise, to his door, and saw Oikawa. He couldn’t believe it first – this must’ve been a figment of his imagination, a mirage of his deepest wishes. He hadn’t even heard the front door. Had he been too deep in his thoughts to hear it?

“Do you have a minute?” Oikawa asked, and Suga had to accept that this was real, this was happening now, Oikawa was finally home.

“Depends,” Suga spoke quietly, his voice a little rough from the lack of use during the lonely day. “Are you going to say more hurtful things?”

Oikawa looked full of regret when he looked down to his toes and then back to Suga’s eyes. “No.” He sounded honest and Suga wanted to believe him. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Suga gave permission. He followed Oikawa with his eyes, turning a little with his chair to see him when he sat down on the bed.

“I’ve been told by a reliable source that I was cruel.” Oikawa looked straight at him when he spoke. He had propped his hands next to him on the bed, his shoulders a little raised and definitely tensed.  “And an ass.”

Suga didn’t think he’d just admit that like that, he thought that Oikawa would be more prideful, more sure that he had been right and headstrong in not apologizing. “I have to remember to thank Iwaizumi.” He was taken aback by Oikawa’s straightforwardness, and couldn’t stop the joke.

Oikawa didn’t seem to mind it too much, just tilted his chin down a little. “I got there on my own, actually.”

Suga was surprised, the feeling of it so sudden that he couldn’t even hide it.

“And it was Kuroo who called me an asshole.”

“He was right.”

Oikawa ducked his head further, as if he was feeling shame and regret all the same time. “Suga-chan,” he said in a patient voice, looking at Suga slightly from under his brows as if he was telling Suga that the time for jokes was over, that he was going to be serious.

So, Suga waited patiently for what he knew was coming. If he really was going to hear an apology, he wouldn’t ruin it. He hadn’t thought that he wanted an apology, though, too preoccupied by his worries that they had screwed up their friendship as he had been, but now that Oikawa had started with it, he realized he needed to hear it.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you. For hurting you.” Oikawa spoke surely but with remorse, and Suga believed he meant it. “Just because I was hurting didn’t give me the right to hurt you.”

“Did you mean to say what you said?” Suga asked carefully.

Oikawa didn’t answer, not right away, but Suga wasn’t worried.

“Which part?” Oikawa finally looked up to him to ask.

Suga had been expecting the question, and wasn’t fazed the slightest. Instead, he answered immediately. “Do you really think I’d “parade my ex-boyfriends in front of you” just to tell you I don’t like you?”

“No,” Oikawa replied calmly.

“Do you honestly think I’m too clueless to realize it if someone likes me?”

“Honestly?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows a little, as if to make sure Suga really wanted an answer. “A little.”

Suga would have to agree with him – he could be a little clueless. It had never hurt anyone before though, or so he had thought. But now that he knew of Daichi’s feelings towards him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had unintentionally hurt his best friend at some point.

He’d have to think that through at another time, talk it through with Daichi. He knew, and hoped with everything he had in him, that he could talk about it with Daichi. They had been friends for a decade, and if that didn’t count to anything, would anything ever?

Now, though, now he had more urgent matters to get through. He had figured out, rather belatedly – and he would be the first to admit it too – that Oikawa liked him and he knew it for certain too. He should address this first. Everything else could wait for the next day. What else could possibly go wrong anymore?

“I didn’t mean to assume the worst things about you, either.” Oikawa continued. “I’m really sorry.”

Suga felt the weight and meaningfulness of Oikawa's apology, how it lifted the worry from his shoulders. “I’m sorry too,” he admitted quietly, though. Because he was sorry for so many things – for how everything had happened with the kiss and after that. For not waking Oikawa up so they could talk, for taking so long to realize that Oikawa liked him, for causing hurt and jealousy.

“No, don’t apologize.” Oikawa was adamant, so Suga didn’t oppose. “It’s not your fault your smile is too beautiful not to fall for.”

Suga smiled a little and looked down and away, knowing there was faint red dusting the tops of his cheeks. It wasn’t the first time his smile had been complimented, but coming from someone he liked – it was all the more meaningful.

“Besides, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Suga looked at him, wanting to refute, just a little, but something in Oikawa’s expression told him not to.

“So,” Oikawa’s voice was uncharacteristically tentative, as if they were standing on thin ice in middle of a lake, and every word they spoke would add to the weight of the situation, causing the ice to crackle threateningly under their feet.  “Can we be friends again?”

Suga knew his answer could cause the ice to break and they would either both fall into the cold and deadly water, or they could step to the side on thicker ice where they could be okay, where it would be safer to take careful steps towards the shore.

“I don’t want to just be your friend, Tooru.”

“What do you want then?” Oikawa asked quietly with unmistakable hope, but more important than that, he was actually putting himself aside and asking what Suga wanted.

And what Suga wanted was to forgive. He wanted to move on and be more than friends. He wanted to hold onto Oikawa in a way that couldn’t be described in ‘platonic’. He wanted to kiss Oikawa, wanted to smother him with affection and fall into the same bed with easy banter and flirtation.

But first he needed to show Oikawa how he felt. He needed to remove all shadow of a doubt Oikawa might have of his feelings. He needed Oikawa to realize that their feelings were mutual, that his might even run deeper than Oikawa’s did.

“Did you see any of the photos at the exhibit?” Suga wasn’t sure how much Oikawa had looked around before he had left in a jealous huff once he saw him with Terushima. But this was them talking now, this was his opportunity to confess in the way that he had planned to do.

Oikawa might’ve been taken aback by his question for a moment, but it passed almost instantly, with barely enough time to register. “Not really,” he admitted, the apology for not even being a good friend lacing his tone.

“Okay.” Suga nodded and bit his bottom lip in thought of how to proceed. “We should’ve talked after the kiss,” he said with a sigh, thinking how true that statement was. “Then this and the fight and everything in between and after the kiss could’ve been avoided.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe if we hadn’t been interrupted, we could have talked then.” Suga might’ve been hypothesizing, but he was absolutely sure that he was right. “I could’ve told you how much I really wanted to kiss you.”

Oikawa smiled a little at that, looking pleased. It helped Suga make up his mind.

“Okay,” he said again with a confident nod, as an agreement with himself that he was going to confess now, they were going to have that talk now. He turned on his chair back to his laptop and went to the first photo to start the slideshow he had been obsessively flipping through for the past hour from the beginning.

Suga stood up from his chair and picked up his laptop. “You know, Akaashi and Bokuto’s fight had nothing to do with me,” he spoke casually as he placed his laptop on the chair. “And I knew Daichi was in love with me,” he continued, with a lie, as he moved the chair in front of Oikawa and sat next to him on the bed.

“You knew?”

Suga looked at the surprise on Oikawa’s face, and saw the relief he had suspected would be there. He had a feeling that revealing Daichi’s secret had weighed on Oikawa’s shoulders almost as heavily as his regret about their fight.

“Everyone was sure you had no idea.”

“Everyone?” Suga asked curiously and with horror. How many were privy to this secret? Was it another one that everyone but he knew? Like the despicable bet?

“I don’t know of ‘everyone’, but Kuroo and Iwaizumi know. And your mom.” Oikawa scooted further on the bed and brought his legs up on it to cross them in front of him, his eyes already curiously fixed on the first photo. He glanced at Suga quickly when he sat down next to him.

Suga could’ve guessed them all, but that didn’t stop the tough swallow to get the sudden lump down. None of the names were a surprise to him. “Oh, okay.” Suga studied Oikawa’s side profile for a moment. _First things first,_ he thought and then reached to press the spacebar.

Oikawa was instantly immersed in the photos, and he paused every time he had a question or an observation. Suga provided him with answers and explanations as best as he could – although sometimes a flower was just a flower and the color of it didn’t have a deeper meaning. He despised doing this with the critics, but he didn’t mind doing it for a friend – he already did it with Kenma every time he had an exhibit – but he especially didn’t mind explaining his photos to Oikawa.

The air around them turned warmer and softer, slowly everything between becoming as it had been with them the past months as they continued to look flip from one photo to the next. They were standing on steadier ground, still on the ice, but closer to the shore. Suga was sure they could make it there with time. And he felt more and more comfortable, more and more confident and sure that this was the right thing to do. He knew deep in him that he had already forgiven Oikawa when they came to the last photo.

Oikawa paused the slideshow and was quiet for the longest time as he just looked at the photo – the photo of him. Suga wondered what the man was thinking and was growing a little nervous and he could feel a blush growing on his cheeks. He figured he might end up waiting forever if he waited for Oikawa to say something first, so he bit the bullet.

“Why were you jealous?” he asked softly and pressed his forehead on Oikawa’s shoulder. “You knew I like you,” he whispered.

Oikawa put his hand on Suga’s thigh and squeezed it lightly. “You put up a photo of me,” he stated with reverence, as if he couldn’t comprehend that Suga had done so.

Suga lifted his head to look at Oikawa and nodded with a bashful smile.

“Well, I can’t blame you.” Oikawa grinned softly. “I am an excellent subject to take pictures of.”

Suga wanted to push him off the bed for sounding so smug, and just like that, everything seemed to be back in order, as if the fight had never happened, as if neither had anything to be sorry for. He couldn’t help but respond to Oikawa’s self-confidence with a small breath of laughter. “There’s the Tooru I know and love,” he joked a little.

“You love me?” Oikawa asked with a smirk.

“Maybe,” Suga answered elusively, being as honest as he could. He looked back to the photo frozen on the screen, and then back to Oikawa. “But I definitely like you.”

“I like you too.” Oikawa admitted in kind in a soft voice, with a soft smile and eyes. “A lot.” He said it easily, and with some relief, as if he had waited for years to say it out loud, as if he had had the words on the tip of his tongue, ready for the right moment for him to confess.

Suga let out a breath of laugh when a thought of “how could I have missed it for so long?” flashed in his mind. “From what I hear, you’ve been in love with me for months, mister.”

Oikawa laughed out loud, his body shaking with e force of it, throwing his head back. Everything really seemed like before with their easy banter.

“The same could be said about you,” he pointed out when his laughter died, but never disappeared from his expression, from his eyes.

And really, who was Suga to contradict him?

“So...” Oikawa stopped and Suga raised his eyebrow in question while Oikawa hesitated, or maybe built up the wait. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Why did you wait so long to ask?” Suga smiled impishly – because how could he not tease Oikawa?

“I finally tell you I like you and you have the audacity to tease me?” Oikawa asked indignantly, huffing a little and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Suga could tell he was only pretending, from the grin Oikawa was trying to bite down.

“Yes,” he answered simply after a short spell of enjoying Oikawa’s antics, the smile he was wearing now much softer, much kinder, and a lot sweeter. “To both questions.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“It means that I want to,” Suga answered honestly. Inside he could feel how he already had forgiven Oikawa, but he didn’t want Oikawa to get away with how he had spoken too easily – he really had been offended, and hurt, and something needed to be done to make up for it.

“What can I do, or say, for you to forgive me?” Oikawa was looking at him with open expression, looking vulnerable but sincere all at the same time.

And Suga was stunned of Oikawa’s moment of unselfishness. This was yet another instance of Oikawa putting Suga in front of his own wants and needs. This was rare, Suga knew, and he was all the more touched by it.

“You could make me dinner?” he suggested softly, touched by Oikawa’s thoughtfulness.

“Every day?”

Suga knew Oikawa was joking, so he didn’t fight the small bubble of joy that escaped him. “Sounds tempting,” he admitted with a smile. “But I meant tonight.”

“I can do that.” Oikawa brushed Suga’s hair behind his ear with gentle fingers, and kept combing through the strands.

Suga closed his eyes and sighed at the feeling, and opened them again with resolve do something he had waited for almost forty-eight hours to do. He placed his hands behind Oikawa’s neck, slowly so he wouldn’t break the tender spell surrounding them, and pulled him closer to kiss him.

It was perfect again, but softer than the first. Somehow gentle in a way that it tried not to break them. This was new to them, not like their first kiss, because it was their _second._ It was there to establish more of them, what they were to each other, what they would be together.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa breathed out and pressed their foreheads together.

“Why are we talking?” Suga asked as softly and kissed Oikawa again, more demanding, positively passionate. He was all but climbing into Oikawa’s lap with Oikawa ceaselessly pulling him closer and closer, their hands seeking purchase _everywhere_ they wandered on their own.

“I just have one question,” Oikawa said almost breathlessly, and Suga was feeling just as affected, when they stopped to catch their breaths.

“What is it?”

“What you said right before you left yesterday, if it’s worth it to be with me. Did you mean it?”

Oikawa looked surprisingly vulnerable, and it halted Suga. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Are you worth it?” He reached behind Oikawa to tighten the loosened ponytail, to brush the few fallen strands behind his ears.

Oikawa didn’t answer his question, and Suga wondered if the man even had an answer. But Suga did. He knew he shouldn’t have questioned it last night. He knew Oikawa was worth it.

He placed his hands on Oikawa’s cheeks and looked steadily into his eyes. “Oikawa Tooru,” he started seriously, speaking slowly so Oikawa wouldn’t miss a word. “I want to be more than just your friend or roommate. I want to kiss you and hold you today, tomorrow, the day after that and the day after that to the foreseeable future and beyond it.”

“To infinity and beyond?” Oikawa asked with an impish grin.

“Why are you quoting Toy Story? Don’t ruin the moment.”

Oikawa chuckled lightly, but turned serious again, biting his bottom lip until his smile turned fond. “Would you prefer Finding Nemo?”

Suga closed his eyes as he let out a gust of breath through his nose, disbelieving that he had thought that Oikawa wouldn’t keep ruining the moment like the dork he was.

“If you must quote a Pixar movie, I’d rather you used Up,” he suggested softly, his voice but a whisper between them.

Oikawa’s expression changed to more serious, the fondness so genuine Suga felt the need to look away so it wouldn’t consume him. But he didn’t look away – he saw the hope in Oikawa when he spoke. “Does that mean you want to grow old together?”

“I’m not sure if we’re there yet, only at halfway to fifty,” Suga replied solemnly, wondering where Oikawa had hidden this romantic side of him, only then remembering how the man had asked him to dance with him, promised more dancing for the future. “But I would like to go on this adventure with you.”

Oikawa’s thumb caressed his cheek along the bone, and stopped at the beauty mark under his eye. “Your smile really is beautiful,” he spoke in a hushed voice.

“Thank you,” Suga replied softly, his words just a slight brush of air against Oikawa’s lips before they met in a tender kiss.

“You should get to that dinner.” Suga moved his hand onto Oikawa’s chest to push a small space between their bodies.

“In a second. I’ve waited forever to do this.” Oikawa responded quickly and continued to kiss him.

Suga giggled into the kiss, because he felt the same way. However –

“I’m hungry,” he said and leaned away, pushing on Oikawa’s chest to keep the distance. “And you have apologizing to do,” he added lightly with a warm smile.

“Okay.” Oikawa uncrossed his legs and stood up, sighing a little out of disappointment, probably. Suga could relate, he would’ve loved to keep making out with Oikawa, but there were more important things to take care of, to get through first.

They had more to talk about.

“Come on.” Oikawa took his hand and pulled him off the bed as well, and led him down the hallway to the kitchen.

Oikawa’s hand was warm and his hold secure. Suga was smiling, quite happily too, and he reveled in the fact that he could now touch Oikawa without having to think how it might be interpreted. He trailed the fingers of his free hand down on Oikawa’s back, feeling how the muscles shifted with the shivers.

“I think this is the first time that we’re holding hands,” Suga said slowly, realizing it then, and wondering how could it be true.

 

 

...

 

 

Kuroo sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, when Oikawa left, and rested his forehead against the door for a moment.

“Are you always putting out fires in your friends’ lives?” Tsukishima asked.

Kuroo lifted his head up and turned around to look at him. He looked bored, like he didn’t really care to know, but Kuroo could hear the undercurrent in his tone of genuine curiosity.

“No, this is new.” Kuroo answered honestly. This was the first time that things that seemed steady and dependable to always remain so were starting to fall apart in his friends’ lives, in their relationships. To say the least, he was concerned. Maybe it was just the full moon playing its tricks and everything would turn back to normal once the moon started to wane. Except, it wasn’t full moon yet.

“I figured as much.”

Kuroo glanced at Tsukishima reclining on his couch, his hands stacked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling, and wondered if things would turn even worse from here. And if so, would his relationship with Tsukishima last through it.

“How’s Yamaguchi doing?” he asked as he went to sit on the couch, moving Tsukishima’s legs so he could sit between them. The mention of his own friends’ struggles brought Tsukishima’s best friend to his mind.

“He’s alright,” Tsukishima replied contemplatively, allowing Kuroo to maneuver his limbs as he pleased. Yamaguchi was one of the few people – okay, one of the two people – Kuroo had ever seen Tsukishima genuinely care about, although it was hidden under indifference that didn’t seem fake to the unobservant because it was buried under multiple layers of shrugs and salt.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fix him up with Suga.”

“That’s fine. I don’t think Tadashi was all that interested in him.”

“Is he still hung up on that old professor of his?”

“I guess. Although, he mentioned something about meeting someone, so I don’t know.” Tsukishima spoke plainly, appearing detached about the whole affair. But Kuroo knew better by now, even when Tsukishima quickly added, “Nor do I care.”

“Oh, but you do care,” Kuroo chuckled softly and lay down over Tsukishima, propping his arms on the armrest that Tsukishima’s head was resting on.

“Anyway,” Tsukishima said and looked away from Kuroo’s smirk. “Where’s your TV?” Tsukishima pointed to the empty space on the drawer, a void of dust where the TV used to stand in. He was clearly trying to change the topic of his best friend and the discussion of his love life into anything else.

Kuroo looked at the empty space almost longingly. He didn’t particularly want to talk about it, but he allowed the change of subject. “I had to sell it.”  

“Are things that bad?” Tsukishima asked with a small frown, the expression almost, just and just, passing for worried.

Kuroo smiled fondly at the concern Tsukishima was trying not to exhibit, but hid it with a smirk. “I’m fine,” he said and shrugged to hide the fact that that wasn’t completely true. “You’re staying over, right?” he asked to change the subject. He didn’t want to think about his financial situation. He knew he could loan from his friends if he needed to, but was too proud to do so. Hell, he was certain that Suga would take him in less than a heartbeat if he revealed how close to a zero his bank account was. In the worst case, he could ask for some money from his parents until he got a job, or earned a spot in a volleyball team, but he was far too proud to do that either.

“Depends.” Tsukishima said dryly and raised a challenging eyebrow. “Can you even afford condoms?”

“Does it matter?” Kuroo asked and slid his hand between the couch and Tsukishima’s ass to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “You always carry them with you.” He pointedly opened the wallet on Tsukishima’s chest as he sat up on his knees and pulled the wrapper out from its folds before he threw the wallet aside onto the floor.

“I can’t believe I’m fucking a person too poor to afford condoms.”

“And I can’t believe I’m fucking a snob.”

“Yet you always ask to see me.” Tsukishima pointed out, sounding unaffected about it – but Kuroo knew otherwise, could feel otherwise.

“You always come.” Kuroo quipped back, knowing it was more than just fucking, for both of them. He knew what they had and felt was what about two billion songs had been written about, what another two billion songs were about if they were to break up.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga hopped up on the counter.

“Get down.” Oikawa pushed lightly on his thigh when he had set the cutting board down next to him on the counter.

Suga smiled wickedly, resisting the push. “Say the magic words first.”

“The magic words?” Oikawa asked, to make sure he had heard right and then thought for a moment. HE went to get the required ingredients as he tried to rack his brain for what Suga might’ve meant. “Please?” he tried when he came back to the counter and set the ingredients down.

“Wrong.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. He had no idea what Suga wanted to hear, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “What is it with you and sitting on kitchen counters? Or climbing on them? I thought that was Noya’s thing.” He tried to direct the conversation elsewhere to bide time as he still tried to figure out what Suga meant with “magic words”, or to move on completely.

“Who do you think he learned it from?” Suga asked with a teasing glint in his eyes as he moved his legs so Oikawa could get a knife from one of the drawers he was sitting in front of.

“You should be more careful, Suga-chan.” Oikawa looked at him with warning as he closed the drawer. “You know that kids take after their parents. The next thing we notice is Hinata paparazzing everyone with one of your cameras.” Oikawa spoke seriously, moving in front of the cutting board and he started to prepare the food.

“I think I would have a more positive influence on him,” Suga said thoughtfully. “And to answer your first question, I like to sit on counters because it makes me taller than you.”

“No it doesn’t.” Oikawa opposed immediately. There was no way that Suga was taller than –

Suga moved his hand in the air, starting from the top of Oikawa’s head and ended it over his own eyebrows. Oikawa was pretty sure that there had been a slight downward trajectory with Suga’s hand’s move, but maybe Suga was right – he had to admit when he looked at Suga and their eyes were on the same level – maybe he was taller, a millimeter or two, this way.

“Can you just get down?”

Suga shook his head, smiling far too innocently, and far too beautifully for Oikawa to look too long. “Not until you say it again.”

“Say what again?” Oikawa was thoroughly lost on what Suga was asking from him.

And Suga seemed to realize it. “Forget it,” he said with another shake of his head, this time a little exasperated. “You’re hopeless.”

“I’m hopeless?” Oikawa asked incredulously. “I’m not the one sitting on a counter.” He shot a sideways glance at Suga as he started to cut the vegetables.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

Oikawa smiled at the way Suga said it, as if he was the one being absurd about sitting on counters.

“Doesn’t that just mean that you’re screwed too?” he asked with a lazy grin as he moved the cut pieces to the side with the knife. He wasn’t about to be outwitted by Suga. Not so soon and not so easily.

Suga narrowed his eyes good-naturedly at him for a second, and smiled warmly the next. “You know, I always liked this.” He popped a piece of red pepper into his mouth.

“What? Eating half the ingredients before they’re prepared?” Oikawa was amused by Suga’s seagull-y habits.

“No,” Suga chuckled and ate another piece. “I meant cooking with you.”

“You’re not cooking _with_ me.” Oikawa stressed the word and started on the green onions. “You’re watching me cook.”

“I like this too,” Suga admitted, his voice suddenly a little quieter. When Oikawa looked up from his task at the cutting board, he noticed the rather sultry way Suga was looking at him. “Could you be shirtless next time?”

Oikawa burst out in laughter and he had to put the knife down so he wouldn’t end up hurting himself, or Suga. “You’re shameless,” he sobered to say.

“Don’t try and act like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing when you took your shirt off and couple of days ago.”

Oikawa smirked. Suga was right – he had done it on purpose, and he was absolutely overjoyed that it seemed to have had the effect he had been hoping for.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, coming off a bit too high and mighty.

He got a piece of red pepper thrown at his temple for that, but there was a soft smile on Suga’s lips. “I’m serious. I always liked the setting of cooking with you. From the very first time we did.”

Oikawa smiled softly back. “Me too.” He picked the knife back up and continued chopping.

“What are you even making?” Suga asked then, apparently only then realizing what Oikawa was actually doing.

“Guess.” Oikawa knew Suga could guess correctly on the first try – he wasn’t trying to hide what he was making, all the ingredients out and ready.

“It looks like you’re making mapo tofu,” Suga said as he observed the ingredients set on the counter and surreptitiously stole another small piece of red pepper, while Oikawa cut the tofu. “But you’re missing one ingredient.”

“You mean the chili pepper stuff you like to add to the sauce to make it super spicy?”

Suga smiled triumphantly. “Exactly.”

“I’ll add it, don’t worry.” Oikawa patted Suga’s knee as he passed him to fetch what he needed to make the sauce.

“Thank you for making my favorite food,” Suga said quietly, his voice soft as a feather.

Oikawa looked up and saw how Suga was following with great focus what he was doing. He quickly finished the sauce and set the spoon down.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered against Suga’s cheek before he left a soft kiss there, his hand cradling Suga’s other cheek, and went to the stove to warm up the wok pan. He had figured, since he was going to apologize to Suga for hurting him, and make up for all the horrible things he had spouted at him, he should probably make Suga’s favorites.

 

 

...

 

 

“I’m going over to Asahi’s,” Nishinoya informed Tanaka when he came home from practice and fell face first on the couch.

“Date night?” Tanaka asked as he took in his best friend’s appearance – his freshly styled hair, the shirt he was buttoning up.

“Yep.” Nishinoya flashed a satisfied smirk. “I probably won’t be home until tomorrow.”

“Alright, have fun.” Tanaka averted his eyes away in search of the TV remote, which he found buried between the couch cushions. He mindlessly flipped through channels, and ended up with a movie that seemed too weepy, almost to the point of being absurd and laughable, but still tear-jerking enough to cause even the toughest person in the world to feel something.

“Do you have any plans?” Nishinoya asked curiously.

“No.”

“Why don’t you invite someone over? Have a date night as well?” Nishinoya suggested, his tone kind and his intentions well meant. But –

“Who would I date? I don’t know anyone, haven’t met anyone.”

“You could go out to meet someone.”

“Sounds like a lot of work and I’m beat from the practice.”

Nishinoya shrugged. “It could be fun.”

“Maybe, if I knew what I actually liked.”

“You could go out to figure that out.”

Tanaka sighed, the rush of air slow and drawn out. “It would be so much easier if I could just fall in love with a neighbor as well.”

“Sorry,” Nishinoya patted is shoulder as he passed him on his way to the front door. “I’m sure you’ll meet someone.”

“Yeah, when I’m eighty years old, wear dentures, have a plastic hip and live in a retirement home. Our eyes will meet over the chess board, we’ll split a pudding, and know that either one of us could be attending the other’s funeral the next day.”

“That was dark.” Nishinoya sounded concerned, the worry stark in his sharp eyes as he looked at Tanaka’s side profile from beside the couch.

“I’m fine,” Tanaka reassured him with a sincere smile, a bit lopsided and little too wide to almost appear like a grin. “Go already or Asahi will start to worry about you.” He tried to push Nishinoya on the move.  

“I’m going to find someone for you,” Nishinoya said decisively as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, stepping away from Tanaka’s reaching hand. “That way you don’t need to keep fucking the bananas.”

“I don’t!” Tanaka sat up straighter, a little disturbed that Nishinoya would even assume such a thing about him.

“You buy a lot of them.” Nishinoya’s eyes moved from Tanaka to the kitchen behind him, and Tanaka knew he was looking at the bananas on the counter there.

“They’re healthy.” Tanaka protested.

“You’re definitely not buying them just for the potassium.”

“Ew!” Tanaka covered his ears. “Now I have a disgusting image of you and bananas in my head. Thanks a lot.”

“Oh, I don’t need bananas.” Nishinoya made a dismissive motion with his hand. “I have Asahi for that.”

“Seriously, stop.” Talking about sex, or insinuating about it, wasn’t helping his twenty-five years old virgin self. And ever since he had called Nishinoya out on his secret relationship with Asahi, Noya had been quite eager to talk about it, every aspect of it.

Nishinoya snickered as he went to the front door, the sound of his amusement carrying along with his light steps, as if he was immensely enjoying himself. “Oh!” he exclaimed then, suddenly, and dashed back to his room.

Tanaka followed the whirlwind that was his best friend hurry across the living room to his bedroom, and he could hear the sounds of things being moved around, clothes thrown aside. “What are you looking for?” he called over.

“I bought more lube since we were running low, I want to take it with me in case we need it,” Nishinoya explained in a loud voice, the rummaging in his room never ceasing. “Aha!” he let out in triumph and he came back with the bottle held high up in the air in victory, as if it was an absurd trophy.

Tanaka made a face. “I really don’t want to hear you talk about sex with Asahi.”

“Why not?” Nishinoya asked genuinely as he dropped his hand down, but with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Jealous?”

“No!” Tanaka shook his head to get rid of the mental image he didn’t need. “I just prefer to think of Asahi as a gentle soul, a saint who would be above any sexiness and need for such satisfaction. I don’t want that view that I have of him to be tarnished.”

“Suga calls him that too.” Nishinoya said as he pursed his lips in thought, his head tilted to the side, which made his mannerism seem bird-ish.

“I know, I was there too then when he said it.” Tanaka slumped lower on the couch. He wanted to get away from this conversation, he wanted to forget it ever happened. He was pretty sure he couldn’t eat another banana for a little while.  

“But Suga’s wrong,” Nishinoya added with a knowing, proud smile. “Asahi is very sexy.”

“Just go!” Tanaka pointed towards the front door. “Take your sinful sexy times with Asahi to his place and keep them there.”

Nishinoya snickered as he slipped past him again and waved his goodbyes.

“Great, now my pure image of Asahi has been ruined,” Tanaka moaned in the empty living room. Luckily he had a movie on to distract him of his disturbed thoughts. Unfortunately, bananas had been ruined for him for the rest of his life.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa’s mind flashed to the photo Suga had taken of him and hung up in his exhibit like an admission of his feelings for everyone to see.

The photo was breathtaking, even if it was Oikawa saying so. It was practically his silhouette, backlit by the sun, his head was tilted back and he was facing the sky, as if he was bathing in the sunlight. His hair was slightly wind-blown, his eyes closed and his long eyelashes starker than ever against the tone of his skin. He looked content with his life – which he could remember wasn’t exactly how he had been feeling when the photo had been taken. He could remember the cold afternoon, how he had walked home from the university with Suga, how he had taken off his glasses to soak in the fresh air after an arduous day spent inside. But he couldn’t remember seeing a camera in Suga’s hand. It was plausible, though, that he had missed it with his eyes closed and chin raised high with his welcoming expression to the sun. Nonetheless, he was glad that Suga had captured the moment – he had never looked as serene, or as beautiful.

“Are you wearing those pants on purpose?” Suga’s quiet question cut through Oikawa’s thoughts.

He turned his head slowly to look over his shoulder at Suga, whose gaze was down and definitely aimed at his ass. He narrowed his eyes a little in thought, appraising Suga and his words. “How horny are you?”

“Oh, honey.” Suga looked up to his eyes. “I’ve been horny for months. Now I just don’t need to hide it anymore.”

Oikawa chuckled and turned back to the stove to turn the heat down. “You might want to,” he said an made his way to Suga, pushed his legs open to get access to the drawers behind them, and opened the second lowest drawer. “You’re giving me ideas.”

“Why is it bad if they’re good ideas?” Suga teased, his toes poking on Oikawa’s shin.

Oikawa suppressed a groan as he closed the drawer and opened another. “I’m not having sex with you tonight,” he said steadfastly. “Not when you’re still mad at me.”

He glanced up at Suga and noticed the lack of surprise on Suga’s expression, which meant that he had been right – Suga was still a little hurt and mad. He didn’t look even a little shook about the fact either that Oikawa could see the hurt, the way Suga held back a little with his vulnerability.

“But make up –sex, Tooru.” Suga spoke to the ceiling, his arms wide, as if he was demonstrating what a heavenly experience it was.

Oikawa chuckled louder at Suga’s antics. “We’re not having sex tonight,” he repeated and kept looking through the drawers.

“Are you just embarrassed because you’re really bad at sex and you don’t want me to find out yet?”

Oikawa stopped what he was doing and straightened his back to look at Suga, their eyes at the same level. “Do you really think that?”

Suga shrugged. “I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”

“You’re going to eat those words one day,” Oikawa said casually with a meaningfully and suggestively raised eyebrow and returned to his search of that one particular spatula. “I’m definitely not bad at sex. I think ‘a genius’ is a far more fitting assessment of my abilities.”

“Hm,” Suga hummed in thought as he tilted his head a little to the left, his eyes appraising him with a contemplating expression. “I’d like to make up my own opinion about it after the experience.”

Oikawa grabbed the spatula he finally found and stopped for a moment to think before he closed the drawer and set the spatula down on the counter. “Do you realize who you’re talking to?” he asked curiously, to know where Suga was going with this, what he really wanted.

Suga took a deep breath and placed his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders. “I’m talking to Oikawa Tooru,” he started confidently. “A man who is wearing sinfully tight pants, a man who has willingly taken his shirt off before to tease me, and a man who should definitely kiss me right now.”

“I should, huh?” Oikawa hid his smirk by biting his bottom lip as he stepped closer to Suga, fitting himself between his legs as he slid his hands up Suga’s thighs to his hips. He didn’t kiss Suga, though, just stood there and counted how many times Suga’s eyes flitted from his eyes to his lips. The tension was growing between them – Suga’s fingers were playing with the neckline of Oikawa’s shirt, while Oikawa trailed his hand down along Suga’s thigh, his fingers ghosting along like a smooth flower petal. Right when Oikawa was sure they had reached the breaking point, when he was sure Suga was just a blink away from kissing him, he stepped away.

“Too bad,” he said offhandedly as he grabbed the spatula and went back to the stove. He knew he had the upper hand now, but he also knew how horny he was as well. He was well aware how good Suga was at flirting, and he had experienced it before how Suga could wear his defenses and resolve down into nothing with just the right kind of smile and a tone of voice. If they had kissed, who knows where it would end.

“You’re a giant tease, Oikawa Tooru,” Suga stated from behind him, like he would state that Oikawa happened to like volleyball.

Oikawa wiggled his hips from side to side as a proof that Suga was right, and Suga laughed at it.

“Two can play this game,” Suga said then, a tone of warning in his voice.

Oikawa turned to look at him just in time to see him hop down from the counter. “Are you going to change your clothes?”

“Maybe,” Suga replied, and smacked Oikawa’s ass when he walked by him.

 _Please, put on the dark blue jeans,_ Oikawa thought as he followed Suga with his eyes to the hallways. “Not the dark blue jeans,” he called after him, hoping it would cause Suga to wear them, for his viewing pleasure of course.

Suga only smirked back at him, over his shoulder with the most tempting look Oikawa had ever witnessed. It punched Oikawa into his face and told him to choke.

Oikawa was already expecting the worst as he continued to prepare the food while Suga was gone. He knew that Suga’s mind was a force to be reckoned with, and he knew that Suga would pay back for all the teasing.

The kitchen filled with the smell of garlic and ginger, and soon after the meat. Oikawa was feeling pleased, and happy, feeling like they were getting over the fight, even though Suga was still carrying the hurt. Which also added to the slight apprehension, but also excitement, for Oikawa of what Suga might wear when he came back.

He quickly came to regret that he had started the teasing game with Suga when the man returned, wearing his dark hoodie with the constellations. The hoodie already practically lived in Suga’s closet, but it was still a vision every time to see Suga wear it.

“You’re not wearing the jeans.” Oikawa commented, though, deciding to let the borrowing of his hoodie go unannounced. He knew that Suga knew that he liked it when Suga wore it.

“You told me not to.” Suga smiled innocently.

Oikawa took a dep breath to calm down, because Suga was playing dirty, knowing exactly what he was doing, and Oikawa was in pain. “You’re not playing fair.”

“Neither are you.” Suga hopped back on the counter.

“We’re not having sex tonight.” Oikawa told him again, but also repeated it for himself so he wouldn’t falter. They weren’t ready for it, and he had a feeling that Suga knew it as well, that he was only teasing to pass the time, as something fun to do.

“You can admit that you’re bad at sex. It’s okay. You can always become better, and I’d be quite happy to help you.” Suga spoke in a light voice, as if he truly was unbothered whether Oikawa was bad or good.

But Oikawa couldn’t let his comment go unremarked. He needed Suga to know that he was far from bad.

He checked the food in the pan and deemed it okay to let it simmer for a while on its own, and walked over to Suga. He leaned in, finding a perfect spot to stand between Suga’s legs again. “I’m going to prove it to you one day. That I’m definitely far from bad or disappointing when it comes to sex and satisfaction. One day I’m going to show you and you won’t be able to walk after it.”

Something flashed in Suga’s eyes as he pulled Oikawa closer with his finger hooked into the collar of his shirt. “One day?”

Before Oikawa could answer, Suga pulled him into a kiss, fierce and soft at the same time, his other hand around his neck, his fingers tickling at Oikawa’s nape and causing delicious shivers.

Oikawa gave back as good as he was getting, his arms around Suga’s waist to keep him closer and closer with every brush of their tongues. Suga felt perfect against him, it felt just right for them to stay like this, forever locked in an embrace and a kiss that spread fire all over Oikawa’s body. _How could anyone be this good at kissing?_ Oikawa wondered.

“Not –“ he broke away to say, because this was leading somewhere he knew they weren’t ready to go to, but Suga was quicker.

“Not tonight, I know,” he said softly and pressed his forehead against Oikawa’s. “But one day? You promise?” He looked at Oikawa with hope.

“I promise,” Oikawa replied just as softly, his hand gently caressing Suga’s cheek, and gave a quick kiss on Suga’s lips, and then three or four or more after it.

“I was only teasing before. I hope you know that.” Suga leaned back a little, but left his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders.

“I know,” Oikawa assured with a smile. “You do it to get what you want.” He caressed under Suga’s chin with a finger in one quick motion before he stepped away again to tend to their food before it burned and turned into charred and blackened inedible smush.

“Sometimes,” Suga admitted. “But, just so you know, I haven’t been thoroughly fucked in months. So, when you say it’ll be good, I’m expecting a lot.”

Oikawa smirked, the sound of it filled with amusement. “You won’t be able to remember your own name afterwards. I promise.”

“That’s a high promise.”

“And I intend to keep it.” Oikawa looked at Suga to make sure he saw he meant it.

Suga looked back, an intense eye contact between them, and he seemed to get it as he nodded a little, as if he was agreeing with something with himself. “Should I set the table?” he asked then, the subject settled and laid to the side for the time being, since, as Oikawa had stated three times already, they weren’t going to do anything about it tonight.

“If you want.”

Suga hopped down from the counter again and started to pull dishes from the cabinets.

 

 

...

 

 

Hanamaki was sitting on their couch when Matsukawa came home from work, after an exhausting ten hour day spent at the stuffy office. He lay down on it, worn down and given up, lifting his legs into Hanamaki’s lap.

“I quit.”

“What?” Hanamaki asked, sounding a little distracted due to the sketch of another futuristic building he was no doubt drawing on his tablet.

“I quit.” Matsukawa repeated, his hooded eyes looking at Hanamaki to see how he’d react.

Hanamaki lowered the tablet slowly and looked at him. “Did you say you quit?”

Matsukawa nodded, blinking slowly. He stacked his hands on his stomach, waiting for the penny to drop.

“You actually quit? Your job? You quit your job?”

“You’ve been telling me to quit for months and now that I’ve done it you’re too shocked to believe it?” Matsukawa asked with a small amused smile on his lips.

“You quit your job?” Hanamaki asked louder, flabbergasted, blinking fast as he tried to process the new information.

“That’s what I said.” Matsukawa raised himself on his forearms. “I thought you’d be happy that I quit. Why are you so surprised?”

“I’m surprised because, like you said, it’s been months, and frankly, I didn’t think you’d actually do it. But I am happy,” Hanamaki said earnestly and he twisted on the couch to fully look at Matsukawa. “I’m happy if you’re happy about it.”

“I am,” Matsukawa assured calmly and lay back down. “I feel relieved.”

“I’m glad,” Hanamaki said softly and he took one Matsukawa’s hands into his, his thumb softly caressing it.

Matsukawa let the relief fill him, wash over him, as he slowly came to the realization of what he’d done, and how good he fell about it.

“How come you’re home so late if you quit?” Hanamaki asked then, a small crease between his eyebrows.

“I wanted to finish my project. And when it was done, I knew I didn’t want to work on another one. So,” Matsukawa stopped to sigh. “When I went to submit my work to my boss, I quit.”

“I wish I could’ve seen his face when you told him.” Hanamaki had a dreamy expression on his face.

Matsukawa chuckled. “He remained stone-faced, just said fine and told me to pack my stuff.”

“Are you disappointed in his lack of reaction? Because I am. You were their best worker.”

“Honestly, I was just tired.” Matsukawa said and closed his eyes.

Hanamaki hummed at that, his thumb idly stroking on Matsukawa’s hand. “Shit,” he suddenly cursed under his breath, his thumb stopping in middle of a caress. “I owe Oikawa 500 yen.”

Matsukawa snorted. “Did you bet on me quitting?”

“Oikawa bet you’d do it before he graduated. I bet that you’d maybe make it through the summer.”

Matsukawa opened one of his eyes to peek at his boyfriend. “And if I still hadn’t quit then?”

“We would’ve dressed up as agents, come and arrest you, and that would’ve been it. No one would have expected you to go back to work there after that.”

Matsukawa laughed at the idea. “It’s too bad I didn’t know about your plan. I would’ve let you do it today. Sounds like a legendary way to quit.”

“It would’ve been glorious.” Hanamaki sighed dreamily. “And it was Suga’s idea,” he added as an afterthought.

Matsukawa frowned with surprise. “It was?”

Hanamaki nodded, the hand that wasn’t holding Matsukawa’s rubbing on his thigh in long smooth slides. “He came up with it on the spot when he heard us talking about how much you hate your job.”

“Hm,” Matsukawa sighed. “No wonder Oikawa’s in love with him.”

“No shit,” Hanamaki chuckled.

“I mean, if everyone loves Suga with just the minimal interaction with him,” Matsukawa started to theorize.

“Aw, love you too babe,” Hanamaki cut in with a smirk.

“I’m just saying,” Matsukawa pressed, “that with the amount of time Oikawa spends with Suga, it’s amazing he still hasn’t admitted his feelings. I hope he doesn’t mess anything up by waiting so long.” Matsukawa spoke sincerely, and Hanamaki shared the sentiment, hoping that everything would turn out well for their friend.

“I hope he doesn’t mess anything up by being himself, “ Hanamaki added. “You know as well as I do how jealous he can get.”

“Here’s for hoping then,” Matsukawa said and lifted his little finger up.

Hanamaki smiled at the gesture, and wrapped his pinkie around Matsukawa’s, a habit they had come up way back in junior high. “So, how do you want to celebrate your quitting?” he asked when they let go.

“I just want to sleep.”

“You don’t want a fancy meal in a restaurant? No alcohol of any kind? Shower? Sex?”

“Did you propose shower sex?”

“We could do that too.”

Matsukawa smiled, his tired eyes slowly blinking. “Maybe tomorrow. I really just want to sleep.”

“Okay.” Hanamaki nodded. “Let’s go to bed then.” He got up and pulled Matsukawa after him. “When you tell Oikawa how you quit, make up a really cool story. I want his socks to roll off his feet.”

Matsukawa snickered. “Deal.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Thank you for the food,” Suga thanked Oikawa when the man came to the couch as well, the dishes done and the leftovers put away.

“You’re welcome,” Oikawa said with a charming smile as he settled down. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Suga lay down immediately, his head in Oikawa’s lap. “Mm, it was really good.”

This was familiar for them, there were many a night when they had settled down to watch something together, either one of their head rested in the other’s lap.

But the way Oikawa’s fingers slipped through Suga’s hair in slow strokes was tentative, as if he wasn’t quite sure he should do it.

“What are you thinking?” Suga asked quietly.

Oikawa looked into his eyes, his hand moved down to Suga’s lips and his thumb traced them. “Do you forgive me?” he asked softly.

Suga’s pleased smile morphed into a small one – not uncertain, but hopeful. He lifted his hand up to Oikawa’s chin and held it between his thumb and forefinger. “Yes,” he whispered and dropped the hand. “I forgive you, Tooru.”

A smile split Oikawa’s features. “Not to dig my own grave, but are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Suga answered calmly. “You’re forgiven.”

“Even though I broke your heart?”

Suga frowned. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I could see it.” Oikawa’s eyes were following his fingers as they softly combed through Suga’s hair.

Suga wondered about Oikawa’s question. His heart might’ve been broken – just a little, a small crack on the surface, like the roots of a tree could break through asphalt – when he thought that Oikawa would dismiss their mutual attraction just because he was jealous. But he was willing to let Oikawa fix his mistake. He was giving himself another chance at something wonderful, even if things ended up in heartbreak. And he wanted to have that one chance with Oikawa.

“You’re forgiven,” he repeated softly and sat up. “Do you remember that critique card I gave you the other day?”

Oikawa shifted in his seat and pulled the folded card from his pocket. “This one?” He held it up between his index and middle finger.

“Did you read it?”

“I did,” Oikawa said with a smile. “That’s how I knew I fucked up.”

Suga chuckled and took the note to reread the words he had written.

_You make me happy like no one else does._

_If you let me, I’ll hold onto your hand for the rest of my days, I’d kiss your lips every chance I get, I’d fall asleep next to you every night and wake up to your smile every morning._

“I want all of it too.” Oikawa’s voice was gentle and he was looking at Suga in _that way_ again.

Suga folded the card again and gave it back to Oikawa. He knew Oikawa would keep it safe, and he decided to trust his heart into Oikawa’s hands as well.

“You have it,” Suga promised, placing his hands on Oikawa’s cheeks to kiss him, just a light and lingering touch of their lips, fitting the delicate feel between them. “But we can’t tell anyone yet.”

“Oh, they don’t deserve to know,” Oikawa agreed with him.

Suga smiled at him, trying to convey everything he was feeling with it – happiness, excitement, caution, sincerity – and lay back down, his head once again pillowed in Oikawa’s lap.

“Can we sleep together tonight?” Suga thought to ask after a moment filled with the X-files theme and Oikawa’s fingers gently caressing his hair. “I don’t mean to have sex, but just sleeping, in the same bed.”

“Of course, Suga-chan,” Oikawa agreed easily, his voice fond. “Sounds nice.”

Suga closed his eyes with a sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted now that everything seemed to be settled. He had had a long day of worrying, and even longer night of upset. With every caress that Oikawa did, he could feel apprehension shizzle out of his body, melting into a languor, like a limp sloth.

He opened his eyes again, not to follow the show Oikawa was transfixed on, even though he had undoubtedly seen every episode numerous times, but to not to fall asleep yet.

“We never played that game of Twister,” Suga mused, when his eyes idly scanned their surroundings and they moved past the box on the shelf. He was reminded of the day they had last played it, how fun it had been to watch his friends struggle to reach the colorful dots in various and absolutely hilarious positions.

“Yet,” Oikawa added with a knowing smile on his lips, his eyes on the game as well.

“It’s been two months.”

“We have time.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *collapses just in time for my birthday*
> 
> Am I forgiven for the previous chapter?  
>  
> 
> to be continued:  
> "Are you and Suga okay now?" Kuroo asked, sounding a little winded, a volleyball held against his side with his arm. "Did you apologize?"  
> "I did," Oikawa answered with a pant and a nod. "We're good, I think." He pulled his ponytail tighter and gestured towards the ball.  
> "I'm glad you were able to remain friends." Kuroo said like he was waiting for Oikawa to correct him, that they were more than just friends now as he threw the ball to him.  
> "Don't act so surprised." Oikawa caught the ball easily, the weight of it familiar and comforting. "I'm a very charming person." He smirked and twirled the ball on his palm. He and Suga had agreed not to tell anyone, not yet and not in any certain words, of the changed status of their friendship. The smirk might've been cause of the memory of how Suga had woken him up that morning, too.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The word of the day is "soft" 
> 
> And before anything else, I'd like you all to know how very grateful I am for all the lovely comments and sweet praise and silent kudos I've gotten for this silly story. THANK YOU!  
> I appreciate it all.  
> Thank you to everyone who keeps giving the time of their day to read this story <3

 

 

 

“Tooru,” Suga called his name softly to wake him up, fingers softly running through his hair.

They were in his bed, and it was morning – a lovely and soft morning after a lovely and soft night spent sleeping in the said bed. The sun was shining in through the window, the shadows of the blinders thrown against a wall.

“Shh,” Oikawa responded, is eyes still closed. “It’s sleeping time.” He was lying on his side, his hands tucked under the pillow.

Suga’s soft smile widened for a second and he let out a soft giggle. “No, it’s waking up time.” He propped himself up on his forearms as he lay on his stomach, to see Oikawa better.

“I was having a nice dream,” Oikawa whined.

Suga followed with a soft smile and studious eyes the movements of him stretching under the covers and then curling back on his side. This wasn’t the first time that he woke up in the same bed with Oikawa, but something about it felt new and exciting, and he wanted to remember everything about it.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, his fingertip trailing across Oikawa’s features, as if he was drawing them on. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Tell me first why I have to get up.” Oikawa inched his leg over Suga’s, his hand snaking over to grasp the hem of Suga’s shirt.

Suga bit down the wide smile of Oikawa’s tactile actions, of Oikawa’s fingers lightly tickling on his skin under the shirt, before he answered. “I didn’t say anything about getting up, but I need you to wake up so I can kiss you before I go.”

“Go where?” Oikawa opened one eye, the one that wasn’t squished shut by the press of his cheek on the pillow, to look at Suga.

“No, tell me what you were dreaming about first.”

Oikawa closed the eye with a soft sigh, the sound of it happy. “It was about you.”

Suga smiled softly, but he wondered if Oikawa was telling the truth. He decided, though, that even if Oikawa was lying, it was kind of a nice lie, saying that he had dreamed of him.

“Where are you going?” Oikawa asked then, reaching the hand that was holding onto the shirt to wrap his arm around Suga’s back to pull him closer, flush against him.

Suga obliged, gladly, and cupped the side of Oikawa’s neck with his hand, fitting his head on the same pillow with Oikawa, their noses almost brushing together. “I have a meeting with Takeda-sensei I’m afraid I can’t postpone anymore.” He explained, his thumb stroking under Oikawa’s jaw in slow and gentle swipes.

Oikawa hummed in understanding, but didn’t make any move to slacken his arm around Suga. “Are you sure?” He blinked slowly but repeatedly to keep his eyes open.

The view of a sleepy Oikawa was endearing to Suga, who made a small nod in response to Oikawa’s question. “Are you going to freak out with me leaving again?”

“Promise to come back to give me another kiss?” Oikawa smiled a little, clearly expecting only one answer. An answer Suga was ready to give.

“Of course.”

“Then I won’t freak out.” Oikawa said decisively and he closed his eyes again with a sigh, his arm holding Suga tighter for a second before it returned to the relaxed state over Suga’s waist and around his back.

Suga would’ve contently stayed with him in the bed like this, held so close it was impossible not to feel the way Oikawa’s chest swelled with every breath, how Oikawa’s every breath fanned softly across Suga’s collarbones.

Unfortunately, as if they were star-crossed lovers but not really anything that dramatic, he had to go.

He sat up a little, as much as he could with Oikawa’s arm holding him, and slapped Oikawa’s ass. “Get up, then.”

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed in surprise and his eyes blew wide open before a pout settled on his lips. “First you said that you didn’t need me to get up but now you’re slapping my ass and telling me to get up.”

“It’s almost noon, Tooru. I’m sure you have things to do too.” Suga reasoned softly with him, his hand still resting on Oikawa’s ass. He knew Oikawa could feel the weight of it there, and it was thrilling Suga to unknown extents.

“Maybe,” Oikawa said petulantly. “I may have some revising to do.”  

Suga tilted his head curiously and leaned back against his other hand. “Revising?”

“I have to prepare to defend my dissertation.” Oikawa explained, his feet softly rubbing against Suga’s leg under the covers where they were entangled, his hand mimicking the action against the small of Suga’s back. “I have to know my stuff.”

Well, that made sense, Suga thought. But he was simultaneously worried of how deep Oikawa would fall into revising. Should he be ready to worry about Oikawa’s tendency to immerse himself into his studies so much that he was continuously exhausted? The couple of days since Oikawa had finished his thesis had already had a healing effect on Oikawa’s exhausted state, but would it return now?

“You really should get up then,” Suga suggested in a soft voice, back to whispering for some unknown reason, and he gently tapped Oikawa’s ass with the hand that was still resting there a couple of times.

“You really have a thing for my ass,” Oikawa commented with sleepy but somehow bright eyes looking up at Suga and with a soft laughter in his voice.

“I don’t actually know,” Suga said contemplatively, his eyes moving to Oikawa’s ass. “Let me see.” He threw the covers off of Oikawa.

“Suga-chan!” he let out in a scandalized voice and turned on his back, letting go of Suga. “You’re shameless,” he laughed right out.

Suga giggled in response, lying back down on the bed. “I didn’t even get a glimpse.”

“You were straight on ogling it last night.”

“But it was covered in clothes then. Like it is now.” Suga reached his hand towards Oikawa to slip his finger under the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

Oikawa grabbed his wrist. “Don’t,” he warned, a sudden glint in his eyes. He no longer looked sleepy or tired, but alert and intense.

It gave birth to new shivers to Suga, delicious and enticing shivers that were always a promise of _good_ things to come. “Am I giving you ideas?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and an alluring smile, teasing Oikawa with all his might.

“I’m too tired to do anything with them yet.” Oikawa responded with a hushed voice, still holding on Suga’s wrist but not making a move to actually pull his hand away from the waistband.

Suga studied his expression, the thoughts behind his eyes for a moment, locking them into a heated eye contact. He felt Oikawa’s fingers twitch around his wrist. Suga wanted nothing more than to stay home, stay in the bed with Oikawa, even if all they’d do is have small moments like these.

Sadly, he really couldn’t push off his meeting with Takeda for another day. He had already excused himself from the meeting yesterday.

“I better go then.” Suga decided, whispering the words, as if not saying it out loud would make it seem that he didn’t have to go, and let go of Oikawa’s pajama’s to turn away and roll out of the bed.

But Oikawa was quicker and he rolled after him to wrap his arm around Suga’s waist again, rolling him back on his back to keep him in bed, to press close to him. “No, not yet,” he scrambled and whined against Suga’s neck before he kissed on it.

Suga laughed at the tickling feeling of Oikawa pressing kisses there, little nips that were turning a bit harder. Suga could tell they would soon turn hard enough to leave a mark. “Not where everyone can see,” he warned in an almost gasp at the light feeling of teeth against a sensitive spot.

Oikawa lifted his head up to look at him, a thoughtful expression on his face. Suga had a feeling he had memorized _that_ spot instantly, stored the information for future.

“Don’t worry, the mark’s faint,” Oikawa said quietly, his fingers brushing across where he had nipped. “It won’t last long.”

Suga closed his eyes as he nodded once, grateful. It would be a lot harder to keep their new relationship a secret from everyone if he suddenly started exhibiting hickeys on his neck. He could always try and hide them with concealer, but –

“Can I give you one, though?”

Oikawa’s question came after a spell of silence, filled with the soft sound of their breathing. Suga had to think for a moment to understand what Oikawa meant, grasping for his wits that had taken the bullet train from his brain to his crotch.

“As long as it’s somewhere no one can see,” Suga replied softly once he was on the same page with Oikawa again, now whispering with anticipation of what it might be like to have Oikawa mark him with hickeys and bite marks. He didn’t think Oikawa would go for it right away, and he gasped with the mix of surprise and the feeling of Oikawa’s lips on his neck when Oikawa pulled his shirt’s collar down to expose his collarbones and went to press a hickey there.

Suga moaned softly at the feeling, his hand grasping on Oikawa’s shirt as he pressed his eyes closed tight to only _feel._  

“Fuck, you’re responsive,” Oikawa whispered against Suga’s skin, his breath ghosting on his collarbone.

“It’s been months since I’ve had anyone touch me like that,” Suga stated in a whisper like it was obvious. “Of course I’m sensitive.” He slid his fingers into Oikawa’s hair.

Oikawa hummed in thought, and went to suck on another mark, next to the one he just made.

Suga’s breathing was quickening, fast, from the feeling of Oikawa’s lips and teeth on his skin, of Oikawa’s hand holding onto him almost possessively, of Oikawa’s leg over his right and under his left leg. He curled his fingers in Oikawa’s hair every time that Oikawa’s ‘work’ felt particularly good.

“Is it ‘one day’ yet?” Suga asked, breathless, referring to Oikawa’s promise of one day blowing his mind with sex.

Oikawa hummed and looked at Suga, his hand letting go of Suga’s shirt to travel down his chest to end up on his side, just under his ribs. Suga liked how it fit to the nonexistent dib of his waist there. “I thought you had to go.”

“I have time.”

Oikawa smirked, probably knowing fully well how much Suga wanted it to be ‘one day’. “It’s not one day yet.”

Suga let out a long exhale and swallowed thickly. It wasn’t ‘one day’ yet. Okay, that was fine. He could wait a little longer.

“Let me go then,” Suga smiled warmly, patting on Oikawa’s arm that was wrapped securely around him.

Oikawa kept smirking down at him, softly, and Suga could practically read his thoughts in his expression.

“You should get up too.” He rolled away from Oikawa and from under his arm. He missed it immediately as he stood up next to the bed.

“But your bed is so comfortable.” Oikawa sighed and made a show of settling comfortably into the pillows, wriggling against them.

“I’ll make you coffee.”

Oikawa turned his head away, eyes closed and hair fanned out on the pillow. He opened his eyes when he turned his head back to look at Suga. “Can you bring it to me to the bed?” he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

“Not until it’s one day.” Suga smiled impishly and started towards the closed bedroom door.

“Are you blackmailing sex from me?” Oikawa asked after him.

Suga looked over his shoulder as he opened the door, and was already stepping out when he replied. “You can always get up if you want coffee.” He missed Oikawa’s grumbles at that due to his own soft giggles that erupted out of nowhere and from somewhere deep inside him.

Because he was happy.

_Happy_

“At least come back and give me the kiss before you leave!” Oikawa shouted after him, which made Suga giggle almost uncontrollably, hard enough for him to lean onto a wall so he wouldn’t fall down.

“I can hear you laughing!”

Suga smothered his light laughter against his hand and looked back towards his room. He wondered if he should go.

It didn’t take him long to make a decision and he was already entering his room before he had made it.

“I’m still dressed in my pajamas. I’m not going right at this minute,” Suga said when he went back to the bed. Oikawa was watching him like a hawk, eyes sharp and steadily following his movements.

“But okay.” Suga placed one knee on the bed and his hands next to Oikawa’s head to hover over his lying body and kissed him once on the lips.

Oikawa wrapped his arms around Suga’s neck to keep him close. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay in bed with me?” he whispered.

“I would if I could.” Suga brushed his nose against Oikawa’s. “I really would.”

Oikawa nodded once, clearly understanding the yearning in Suga to stay, but also the sense of responsibility to his work, and loosened his hold. “Do you know when you’ll come back?” he asked.

Suga shook his head. “But I’ll text you.”

Oikawa nodded again, apparently accepting it.

“Now, come on.” Suga took Oikawa’s hand from behind his neck and pulled him up to sit as he stepped bedside the bed. “I’ll make you coffee.”

“Fine.” Oikawa hid a yawn behind the back of his other hand as he sat up and tucked his free hair behind his ear. “But I expect more kisses too.”

“I’ll give you as many as you want.” Suga smiled softly.

“You’ll never be able to leave this apartment,” Oikawa stated confidently with a raised eyebrow.

Suga was absolutely certain that Oikawa meant it. “As many as you want _until_ I have to leave,” he cleared pointedly.

Oikawa flashed a pout, but smiled the next second, his expression bordering on a smirk. “I’ll kiss you more once you come back then. I have your other collarbone to purple.”

 

 

...

 

 

Suga could still hear Oikawa’s words as if he was right next to him whispering them into his ear, causing twitching to happen in a very specific part of his body when he thought about it and shivers of anticipation to travel all over his body.

But, he forcefully willed Oikawa’s siren voice away as he knocked on the grey door, and sighed as he rolled another set of shivers away while he waited. He could hear the lock turn before the door opened, and was met with Iwaizumi, standing on the other side of the doorway with a surprised expression.

“Hey, Suga,” he sounded a little uncertain, careful even.

Suga smiled warmly at him to dissipate the uncertainty, to make everything as it had always been, with nothing out of the ordinary in place. “Hi. Is Daichi home?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi made a series of quick nods. “Come in.”

“Thanks,” Suga said softly and closed the door once he was inside. “Is it one of those rare days when your day offs fell on the same day?” he asked curiously, since it was the middle of the day, and the both parties of the couple were home.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting then.”

“No, it’s okay.” Iwaizumi said quite seriously, and Suga believed that he meant it. “Daichi!” he called out for the man, and the familiar head popped out from the kitchen.

“Suga,” Daichi breathed when they locked eyes, and Suga flashed another soft smile. “What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a couple steps closer to the front door.

“Do you have a minute? Or two?” Suga asked in a way of answering.

“For you, always.”

Suga glanced quickly at Iwaizumi at his words. “I just want to talk,” he voiced his purpose for visiting.

“Come on, sit down.” Daichi gestured towards the living room.

Suga followed him there, hearing Iwaizumi’s steps follow until they turned towards the kitchen and then disappeared altogether.

“Are you alright?” Daichi asked with genuine concern as Suga seated himself on the couch, setting the bag with the critique cards by his feet, along with his messenger bag.

“I’m okay,” Suga assured him with a smile, leaning his side to the back of the couch so he could face Daichi.

“Are you sure?” Daichi was studying him. “You looked... Heartbroken yesterday.”

“I’m okay,” Suga repeated.

“But you said you had a fight with Oikawa –“

“I’m not here to talk about him,” Suga interrupted. He didn’t want to talk about Oikawa now, not because of the subject, but because he wanted to avoid lying to Daichi. They had had enough of that. “I’m here to settle something between us.”

“What do you mean?” Daichi whispered, his eyes wide.

Suga tilted his head, knowing for certain that Daichi knew what he meant, and waited for him to cut down on the cluelessness. They had had enough of that too.

“Did Oikawa tell you something?” Daichi asked then, almost as if he was afraid to ask it.

Suga smiled kindly and spoke softly, not to spook Daichi. “He told me you were in love with me.”

Daichi took a deep inhale, his posture changing with it and deflating when he exhaled.

“Was he right?” Suga prompted for Daichi to say something. He kept looking steadily at Daichi, offering silent comfort that it was okay to admit it, if it really was true.

It took a while, a silent while where you could hear a pin drop, and Suga was patient. He had had a feeling this could be tough for Daichi to talk about, to admit to, since he had held it a secret for years, apparently.

Finally, Daichi took another deep breath, and let it out with a single “Yeah.”

Suga waited Daichi to elaborate. He himself didn’t have much to say, not until he knew what Daichi thought about the whole thing.

“I’m sorry I never told you,” Daichi apologized, not surprising Suga with it at all.

However, he didn’t need an apology, nor had he come to talk to Daichi to get one. Actually, if he was being honest, “I’m glad you never told me.”

Daichi looked taken aback, positively stricken with his eyes wide and his upper body leaning back. “Why?” he managed to gasp. Apparently he hadn’t expected this.

“I think our friendship would be a lot different if I had known,” Suga said surely, knowing without a single sliver of a doubt for it to be a fact. They wouldn’t be the friends they were to each other if he had been aware of Daichi’s feelings for him.

Daichi seemed to think this through, his eyes looking down at the carpet, listlessly moving across it as he mulled on Suga’s words.

“But I’m sorry too. For never noticing it,” Suga said after a while, a while that he deemed enough for Daichi to have come to some grasp with his earlier statement. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you because of it.”

“No, Suga,” Daichi shook his head slowly, the movement soft more than anything, his eyes glued on Suga’s. “Don’t apologize. You never hurt me.” He moved closer to Suga on the couch and looked at him with steady seriousness. “I knew you didn’t know about my feelings towards you. How could you have hurt me? You were always my best friend. You were the best friend anyone could ever have. Never apologize for that.”

Suga smiled under the heaviness of Daichi’s praise, a little uncertainly but full of gratefulness.

“I mean, yeah, it wasn’t always the easiest to be around you when you were being adorable and just so _you._ But you never hurt me, Suga. I promise.”

Suga wasn’t so sure of it, and he feared that Daichi was just being brave now. “But if I’d known, I could’ve been more considerate with what I talked to you about.” Suga was theorizing, thinking of how he had spent many afternoons with Daichi daydreaming about other boys. But don’t get him wrong – he was glad that he hadn’t known, but still, there was a gnawing feeling inside him that if he had known...

“I never minded, Suga.” Daichi was quick to assure him. “And now that you said that you were glad that I never told you, I have to admit that I’m glad too. You’re right. We wouldn’t be the friends we are if you’d have known.”

Daichi’s hand on Suga’s shoulder was warm, comforting and familiar, and more than anything, friendly. Suga didn’t feel the weight of it, but the meaning.

“Besides, I got over it.” Daichi dropped his hand and started to nervously pull at the frayed material of their couch cushions. “Well, I don’t know if you can get over loving someone when it was unrequited, but –“

“I get what you meant.” Suga assured with a soft smile.

Daichi smiled back. “But I met Hajime. And I don’t think I would have met him, or been given the chance to be with him if we two,” Daichi made a gesture with his finger, indicating the two of them, “had ever been more than just friends.”

Suga was sure Daichi was right. But something that Daichi had said had caught his interest.

“Do you really think we would’ve been more than friends, if I’d known, if you’d have told me back then that you were in love with me?” he asked.

_Back then,_ Suga thought of the words cautiously, not knowing exactly when Daichi had been in love with him. But now knowing that it had ended before Daichi had met Iwaizumi – well, that was a little relieving to know.

“I think you would’ve tried your hardest to reciprocate the feelings.” Daichi nodded thoughtfully. “You were like that then, trying to meet everyone where they were, putting yourself and your needs aside to be _there_ for everyone.”

Suga wondered if that was true. Had he put everyone else’s needs and wants, their feelings, in front of his own so much that it could be called a habit? Had he put his own needs and wants aside just to make sure that the people closest to him got what they sought for with their interactions?

“You’ve changed in that regard since then, since you broke up with Akaashi. Not a lot, but a little.” Daichi added seriously, as if he was a little worried about that, still probably wondering what had caused the change he had noted. “You never told me what exactly happened between you two.”

“And I won’t.”

Suga was sure he’d never tell anyone the full story. He looked away from Daichi, not to show even a little a small hint of what was going on in his head right then and there. “It’s between me and Akaashi and it’ll stay that way,” he said to the window.

“Okay,” Daichi agreed to it, once again. For as many times as Daichi had inquired what had happened, what had caused them to break up, Suga had been adamant not to tell. The only person Suga had told a sliver of the truth was Oikawa, and that was only a part of what had happened.

Suga knew there had been wild theories among their group of friends for the reason for their break up, some of them pretty close and some of them galaxies away from it. But it still hurt to think about, just a little, and he had a feeling he might carry that hurt for the rest of his life in a way that it would encompass some of his actions at least to a small extent, so he preferred not to talk about it.

“Suga, I’m sorry.” Daichi said then, with so much sincerity in his voice it was both strong and fragile at the same time.

“For what?” Suga looked back to Daichi, not quite sure what he was being sorry for.

“For the bet.”

Suga made a sound of understanding, a small whisper of “Ah”, before he looked away again and down to his fingers that were playing with the frays at the hole in his jeans by the knee. 

“It never should have happened, no one should’ve taken a part in it. I really am sorry for it, and for it hurting you.”

Suga heard the heavy sigh Daichi heaved.

“The bet should’ve died the night it was first struck between Kuroo and Bokuto, and never spoken of again.”

“I had a gut feeling they were behind the whole thing.” Suga said slowly, more to himself than actually saying it out loud for anyone to hear.

He smiled then, faintly but it was there, and looked steadily at his best friend. “I forgive you.”

Daichi looked surprised again. “Just like that?”

“No, not just like that.” Suga smiled with a tilted head. “But you’re forgiven.” He leaned across the small space separating them and reached to hug Daichi, his arms wrapping over Daichi’s shoulders, locking him in a tight embrace.

Daichi was quick to wrap his arm around Suga, who had needed this, had a feeling _they_ needed this. For whatever reason. Really, did two best friends need a reason to hug each other?

“You really are incredible, Suga.” Daichi whispered with reverence, as if he couldn’t believe that Suga had forgiven him, and pulled back a little to look at him.

Suga smiled bashfully and pulled away from Daichi completely.

“I’m sorry for the bet too, Suga.”

Suga looked to the side and up to see Iwaizumi standing behind the couch, wearing a truly apologetic expression. Suga smiled at him, knowing that the man had been listening to their conversation in the kitchen the whole time, and rose on his knees on the couch. He reached up to pull Iwaizumi down into a hug too.

Iwaizumi made a little sound of surprise, just a breath of “umpf” when he was enveloped in Suga’s arms and pulled to almost bend in half.

“You’re forgiven, too,” he whispered and let go, noting the faint blush on Iwaizumi’s cheeks. “You two really are great for each other,” he said then, looking between the couple. “So, don’t ruin what you have. I don’t want to come back here to kick your asses for _not telling each other important things.”_ He jabbed the last words at Daichi, who chuckled with discomfort in response, scratching the back of his neck.

“The same goes for you too,” Suga warned Iwaizumi.

“I know.” Iwaizumi’s voice was grave, seemingly understanding how serious Suga was about the ass kicking, but he was still slightly blushing.

_How adorable,_ Suga thought.

“Good.” He nodded then, decisively for things to remain settled and good, and got up. “I should go then. I know how much you cherish your mutual day offs.”

Daichi followed him to stand as well. “Are you sure? Isn’t there anything else you want to talk about?”

Suga had a feeling that Daichi meant Oikawa, and the fight he had mentioned the day before. “I’m sure. I’m okay,” he reassured with a smile. He stepped closer to Daichi again, and hugged him tightly, ever so grateful for having someone like Daichi as his best friend, grateful to have a friendship this strong and dependable. “Love you,” he whispered, happy tears starting to well in his eyes.

He was surprisingly emotional that day, mostly likely caused by the previous day filled with worry and then relief and now happiness.

Daichi chuckled softly into the hug, against Suga’s neck. “Love you too.” He smiled when Suga finally let go of him, but he looked close to tears too.

“If mom saw us now, she’d be bawling her eyes out.” Suga commented on the tenderness of the moment, almost sarcastically but still meaning it one hundred percent, knowing how his mother was like during touching scenes.

Daichi laughed lightly, appropriately. “Let’s never tell her about this then,” he suggested.

Suga whole-heartedly agreed with him, before he picked up his bags from beside the couch. “I really should go.” He was already at the front door slipping his feet into his converse when Daichi caught up with him again.

“Suga,” he started softly.

Suga straightened from his grouch to slip his jacket on, looking at Daichi and waiting for him to continue.

“Did something happen with Oikawa?”

Suga bent down to pick up his bags, yet again. “We’re okay, too.”

That was all he was ready to divulge on the matter. He didn’t want to lie to Daichi, and that was close enough to the truth to _be_ the truth without spilling everything.

Daichi nodded, more from understanding that that was all Suga was ready to say about it than actually understanding _what_ Suga was saying.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Suga said then, with a smile that was purely _him._

“Never,” Daichi grinned.

 

 

...

 

 

Kuroo knocked on Suga and Oikawa’s door – locked as it was, he wasn’t free to go in as he usually was. He wasn’t surprised that it was locked, he had actually assumed as much, knowing that Suga knew and wasn’t happy about the bet, and knowing that Oikawa and Suga had fought.

He wondered how Oikawa was doing now, if the man had had a chance to apologize to Suga as he had advised. Had Suga wanted to hear him out? Or had they fought more?

He heard the lock turn after a suspiciously long wait, during which he had managed to wonder whether anyone was even home. He mentally prepared to be met by Suga, and he internally sighed with relief when that wasn’t the case.

“Is Suga home?” he checked anyway, before anything else, the moment Oikawa opened the door. He also didn’t want to waste time, since he knew that the gym wouldn’t be free for long.

Oikawa pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “No, he had a meeting with Takeda-sensei.”

“Okay, good. We’re going to go practice now.”

“Now?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows with his question.  

Kuroo mirrored his expression with a quirk of his eyebrows. “What’s a better time than when you’re feeling crappy?”

Oikawa made a sort of nodding motion at that and left the door open for him to come in.

“Just change your clothes and grab your trainers.” Kuroo called out instructions after Oikawa when he disappeared down the hallway.

“Yeah, I know the drill,” Oikawa called back.

Kuroo made a sound of a short chuckle and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he settled to wait, sitting down on the arm of the armchair. It was quiet in the apartment, with Suga gone. Not that Suga was ever loud, but Kuroo could actually _hear_ the difference whether Suga was or wasn’t in the room.

“What’s taking so long?” he shouted when Oikawa had been gone abnormally long.

“Contact lenses,” came the response, and Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“You don’t need them.”

“I don’t want to break my glasses.”

“You’re just setting and it’s just the two of us.”

“What if you go to spike the ball and you hit it wrong and I get my face full of volleyball?” Oikawa’s voice grew closer and closer and soon enough the man was emerging from the hallway with a gym bag.

“I’m not that bad.” Kuroo acted offended.

“That remains to be seen.” Oikawa smirked back at him.

But his comment halted Kuroo. “Have you ever seen me play?”

Oikawa shook his head when Kuroo was already asking another, far more important question.

“You’ve never been to any of my games, have you?” he almost demanded an answer.

“No.”

That was all Oikawa said to it, and Kuroo got the feeling it was all he wanted to say about it.

Kuroo knew that Oikawa’s exit and bittersweet departure from volleyball hadn’t been the easiest, and definitely not his own choice. So it must’ve been hard to go back to it, to go and see and hear others play the game he couldn’t play anymore, a sport he had loved more than life. Somehow, though, Kuroo got the sense that it wasn’t just that Oikawa didn’t want to go to a volleyball game, but that he wasn’t able to make himself go.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa stopped after two steps into the gymnasium at the sight of familiarity he hadn’t seen for years. Even though he had never been to that particular gymnasium before, it smelled like he remembered. Even the echo of the closing door and how it traveled hollowly in the large empty space was eerily similar. Oikawa felt at once as if he was back in the gymnasium he had started his volleyball ‘career’ at when he was just a kid and tossing the ball over the net with Iwaizumi, and nothing like it at all.

“You alright?” Kuroo asked as he stepped next to him.

Oikawa nodded faintly, letting his eyes roam around the space. “Just been a while.”

He felt Kuroo’s eyes on him, but didn’t look back, trying to get accustomed to the new but old feeling of standing on a volleyball court. He felt a slight thrill, a cautiously excited feeling, traveling up his spine and he smiled. He only wished Suga was there to see him play.

“Let me know if you need to take a break because of your knee, alright?” Kuroo clapped him on the shoulder as he continued past him.

Oikawa nodded, even though he knew Kuroo wouldn’t see it, and spent another short moment just looking around before he followed Kuroo to one of the benches. He spent another short moment there mentally preparing to _touch_ a volleyball for the first time in years as he put his trainers on, and in a third moment as he tightened his ponytail, Kuroo was back with the balls.

“Do you still remember how to set?” Kuroo asked with a well-meant tease.

Oikawa smirked back at him. “How could I forget?”

Kuroo smiled knowingly back. “Let’s go then.” He made a gesture with his head indicating towards the court.

“I need to do one thing first.” Oikawa picked a ball and went to the endline to the service zone and turned to face the net. He couldn’t stop the wide smile growing on his lips at the familiar and exciting sight. The adrenaline rushed in his veins as he took a couple of measured running steps and threw the ball into the air, he felt himself soar higher than ever before as he jumped, and he felt the comforting sting on the palm of his hand when it connected with the ball, sending it over the net. The ball flew across the court in perfect arch and landed within the lines – an ace.

He heard Kuroo’s slow clapping as a tribute to his skills, to his magnificent serve.

“Do you want to come to our team and be our pinch server?” Kuroo asked with a grin.

Oikawa shook his head, his eyes following the ball that had bounced a couple of times but was now rolling aimlessly on the floor. He was fully aware of his own limits now. “I won’t be able to do that again today,” he said with melancholy. With everything amazing he had felt during his serve, after it, he had also felt the bad – the awful, _awful_ twinge in his knee when he landed from his jump.

“Are you alright?” Kuroo asked with concern.

Oikawa smiled at him charmingly to lessen the worry. “I’m fine. Should we warm up?”

Kuroo looked at him uncertainly for a spell, but seemed to believe him, or maybe just deemed it a waste of time to try and keep worrying, as he picked up another ball. “Let’s toss for a bit.”

And that was what they did, with measured spot-on tosses first, but soon they were being purposely difficult, grinning like idiots as they either used too much force or too little to make the other take a couple of steps back or forward to be able to reach the ball.

They were huffing and panting at the end of it, when Oikawa tossed with too much force and the ball soared high and far over Kuroo’s head.

“You’re really bad at this,” Kuroo commented with a chuckle, looking after the ball where it landed and bounced before it started to roll back towards them, as if it was magnetized and pulled to them.

“I could’ve caught that,” Oikawa boasted, his hands on his hips, and took a deep inhale that he let out slowly.

“Then why didn’t you?” Kuroo demanded light-heartedly, and took a couple of steps to retrieve the ball.

“Because I tossed it to you, not to me,” Oikawa explained the obvious.

They had warmed up enough to try and catch their breaths and Oikawa was already feeling the endorphin rush of a work out. Even Kuroo, who practiced almost daily, had worked up a slight sweat, enough to wipe it on the hem of his shirt as he looked contemplatively at Oikawa.

“Are you and Suga okay now?” Kuroo asked then, sounding a little winded, the volleyball held against his side with his arm. “Did you apologize?”

“I did,” Oikawa answered with a pant and a nod. “We’re good, I think.” He pulled his ponytail tighter and gestured towards the ball.

“I’m glad you were able to remain friends.” Kuroo said like he was waiting for Oikawa to correct him, that they were more than just friends now as he threw the ball to him.

“Don’t act so surprised.” Oikawa caught the ball easily, the weight of it familiar and comforting. “I’m a very charming person.” He smirked and twirled the ball on his palm. He and Suga had agreed not to tell anyone, not yet and not in any certain words, of the changed status of their friendship. The smirk might’ve been cause of the memory of how Suga had woken him up that morning, too.

Oikawa could still feel Suga’s heated skin on his hand and against his fingers, as if he was still touching Suga. And my, had Suga been responsive to just a simple hickey. He couldn’t wait to get back home, to see Suga again, to hold and kiss him again.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” Oikawa had been lowkey waiting for Kuroo to mention the fight he had had with Suga, the fight he had confided about in Kuroo.

Kuroo shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk about it.”

“Well, I don’t, not really.”

Kuroo nodded, apparently understanding. However –

“So you two are just friends now? You didn’t confess?”

“Would you have? After what I said to him?” Oikawa challenged Kuroo with a raised eyebrow. “Let’s just practice,” he threw the ball back to Kuroo lightly, easy enough to catch when it was measured close enough to land in Kuroo’s arms.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga knew he’d be coming home to an empty apartment. He had received a photo send from Oikawa – a selfie of him at a volleyball court with Kuroo in the background throwing peace signs, with a caption “show this to the police as evidence and a possible lead to catch my murderer if I don’t make it home tonight”.

Suga had snickered at the photo, gathering a couple of curious glances from the pedestrians passing him. He had saved the photo, not as evidence for police, but just to keep it. He even contemplated of using it as his phone wallpaper, but was that too much of a cliché?

He was still thinking about the photo, and wondering of the probable risks of using a picture of Oikawa as his wallpaper in case someone might catch a glimpse of it, when he opened the building’s front door and started to climb up the stairs.

”Asahi?” Suga asked as he stepped on the second floor landing and saw the man waiting in front of his apartment door.

“Oh,” Asahi jerked a little with surprise and turned to look at him.

“Have you been waiting long?” Suga walked past Asahi to open the door.

“No, I just knocked.” Asahi answered, and followed him inside the apartment.

“Is something wrong?” Suga asked curiously as he took in Asahi’s somewhat more timid than usual look. “You seem troubled.”

“Oh, it’s –“ Asahi stopped and scratched the back on his neck. “I’m fine, there’s just something that I was wondering if I could talk to you about.”

“Of course,” Suga agreed easily and dropped his bags by the kitchen counter. “Do you want something eat or drink?”

Asahi shook his head as an answer and sat down on one of the couches in the living room. “No, I can’t stay long, I’m meeting Noya in a bit.”

Suga still picked up the bowl filled with seaweed chips from the kitchen counter, knowing that Asahi liked them, and placed it on the coffee table before he joined him on the other couch.

“What’s troubling you?” Suga asked kindly, trying to ease Asahi into the conversation. If the man had already been stuttering earlier with his request to talk, Suga was quite sure this wasn’t anything easy for him to talk about.

Asahi was quiet for a moment, while Suga waited patiently, his fingers absent-mindedly playing with the frays at his jeans.

“Did you know I like seaweed chips?” Asahi asked suddenly, his gaze on the snacks on the coffee table.

“Yes, I do know that,” Suga answered in his softest voice.

Asahi nodded, accepting his answer.

Suga watched how he fidgeted with his fingers, and he knew that there was only one thing that could turn Asahi so shy, having witnessed it once before, and only once.

“Is this about sex?” Suga asked frankly, wanting to go somewhere with this conversation, but still in a soft voice. The last time Asahi had come to him to talk about sex, the man had been barely able to get a word out, and every single one had been accompanied by a bright red blush and averted eyes. Suga could now link that time to fit pretty close to the time Asahi and Noya had gotten together for the first time. Back then it had been an absolute surprise to Suga that Asahi had even considered having sex, had had enough bravery in him to bring up the topic even if he barely could speak about it, even if it was just in whispers. It was as if Asahi was afraid there were little elves, or innocent Oompa-Loompas, around listening to their conversation.

Asahi looked up to him with widened eyes, and Suga wondered whether Asahi was surprised that he had guessed correctly, or that he would even ask that. But Asahi still nodded and looked down to his lap, to his childishly fidgeting hands.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Suga checked.

Asahi made another small nod, his blush ever spreading. Suga wanted to coo at the cuteness of a shy and embarrassed Asahi – his strong and tall friend turning into a bashful and soft ball of adorableness. But he refrained from doing so, knowing that it wouldn’t make it any easier for Asahi to talk.

“Is it about sex with Noya?” Suga prodded further into the issue.

A timid “yeah” was all he got as a confirmation.

“Okay,” Suga sighed and shifted a little on the couch, turning sideways to face Asahi properly on the other couch.

“If you’re not ready to have sex with him, you should just tell him so.” Suga tried a guess at the problem, of what Asahi wanted to talk about.

“We’ve actually... We’ve... We have done...” Asahi stopped and started over and over again. “You know, done it... Before,” he ended with a whisper.

“Okay.” Suga tried to think of what else might be troubling Asahi then if it wasn’t just the possible first time. “Was it bad then?”

Asahi shook his head a little, still avoiding Suga’s eye contact.

“Okay.” Suga bit his bottom lip in thought.

“Can you stop saying ‘okay’? It’s making me nervous.” Asahi asked in a quiet voice, but finally looking up to Suga, who smiled with apology in response.

“Sorry, Asahi, I’m just trying to follow what it is that you want to tell me. I’m afraid you’re going to have to walk me through the issue here, because I fail to grasp it.”

Asahi scratched his neck again and cleared his throat. “It’s not really an issue...” he trailed off, seemingly sinking into thoughts, or maybe he retreated somewhere in his mind to gather his courage to voice the issue at hand.

Asahi was saved form elaborating further, though – at least Suga was sure Asahi would have thought so, but he didn’t as much – when the front door opened and Oikawa came home.

Suga smiled at the man, drinking in his appearance – the fitted joggers that really unfairly showcased his long legs, the slightly oversized zip-up hoodie, his hair that was falling out of the ponytail and framing his handsome face. _And he wasn’t wearing glasses._

Suga had seen Oikawa without glasses before, of course, but seeing him like that in middle of the evening was unfair in a completely new way. He had already had to learn not to think too much of the ponytail, but now he’d have to focus anywhere but at his face as well as it was unobscured by the frames of his glasses.

“That was the weirdest thing to come home to,” Oikawa said casually as he stepped out of his shoes, as if he didn’t care what he might’ve interrupted or who might be hearing. “A locked door.”

“Well, I have secrets to keep and I’m mad at people. They don’t deserve to eat here,” Suga replied to Oikawa’s comment, his focus on the way Oikawa was careful to put weight on his right leg.

He heard Oikawa hum in response as he dropped his gym bag next to Kumamon before he came to sit next to Suga, or really behind him, on the couch.

Suga turned his head back to look at Asahi, who was reaching for the seaweed chips, to continue their conversation that would barely fit as a word to describe it, and he felt Oikawa place his chin on his shoulder.

“Did you come here to eat our food, Asahi-san?”

Asahi stopped mid-movement, his hand on the way to his mouth to eat the chip, his eyes suddenly wide in horror that he was doing something he wasn’t allowed to do.

“It’s okay, Asahi,” Suga assured immediately, pinching Oikawa’s thigh. He heard a satisfying sound of quiet yelp at the pinch and smiled as Oikawa patted his hand away. “You can eat. Tooru is just teasing you.”

He got up then, with a reassuring smile directed at Asahi, who ate the chip slowly, as if he was in slow-motion, his eyes uncertainly and suspiciously looking at Oikawa, as if he was continuously checking if he really was allowed to eat and to make sure that Oikawa wouldn’t snatch the chips away from him.

“And you should stop teasing, Asahi.” Suga poked at Oikawa’s cheek when he passed by him, stepping over his long legs, on his way to the kitchen.

“But there hasn’t been that many sources of entertainment lately,” Oikawa defended himself.

Suga wanted to scoff at him, but refrained from doing so. From the lack of response of surprise from Asahi at the way he and Oikawa were behaving with each other and talking to each other, it would seem that Asahi had no knowledge of the fight they had had. It was both a relief and – well, it was only a relief. Suga didn’t really feel like explaining any of it to Asahi, not when the issue was already resolved. Besides, it made it only easier for him and Oikawa to continue to act and behave as they always had without the fear that they would be monitored. He was a little afraid that their friends would start to analyze everything they did in search of proof that they were more than just friends now.

“Asahi’s a lot braver than you think, Suga-chan,” Oikawa continued haughtily, as if he would know Asahi better than Suga did.

“A-ha,” Suga agreed with him sarcastically, not sharing Oikawa’s opinion the slightest as he closed the freezer door and came back to the couch. “Here,” he thrust the ice packet he had gone to get at Oikawa. “Ice your knee.”

Oikawa eyed the packet warily, with distrust. “It’s fine, Suga-chan.”

“Ice your knee,” Suga said again, adamantly and with great determination to have Oikawa take it, pushing it a little closer to his face. He wasn’t above whacking Oikawa’s head with it if the man refused again, but he was saved from doing so.

Oikawa let out a small huff of breath through his nose, but took the offered ice packet without another word.

“Thank you,” Suga whispered with a small and appreciative smile as he sat back down, crossing his legs on the couch, and returned his attention back to Asahi. “So, before we were rudely interrupted –“

Oikawa made an indignant sound of protest as he shifted and settled more comfortably on the couch to keep the ice on his knee. 

Suga glanced at him, at how he ended up lying on his back, his head on Suga’s thigh and his leg thrown on the back of the couch so he could keep it elevated and reach it to hold the ice packet there. 

He decided to ignore Oikawa, letting him do as he pleased, and tried his best to do so with Oikawa’s head distracting him, weighing in on his lap. He was somehow able to continue, though, after he cleared his throat a little and returned his attention to Asahi. “You were going to tell me about sex with Noya.”

“You know about sex?” Oikawa interrupted then, suddenly. He directed the question to Asahi, who was blushing redder than the juiciest tomato.

Suga tried not to laugh out loud at Oikawa’s incredulity – he didn’t want to cause Asahi to overheat due to his shyness. He noticed the way Asahi’s eyes went back and forth between him and Oikawa, in an uncertain way, asking and assessing at the same time. He guessed why, and was quick to reassure the blushing man.

“You can talk in front of Tooru. He won’t tell anyone anything,” he spoke in a soft voice and with a warm smile, his hand finding its way to Oikawa’s ponytail on its own accord, without any thought really to do so. He slipped the hair tie off and slid it on his wrist, next to the one he was already wearing there – light turquoise and white stripes next to black and orange stripes.

“Promise,” Oikawa put his two cents in and made a show of locking his lips and then throwing the key away.

Suga smiled faintly at it, his fingers running through Oikawa’s wavy and unfairly silky feeling hair as he patiently waited for Asahi to continue, softly smiling down at Oikawa and his blissed out and calm expression.

He let Asahi find the courage in him to voice his troubles, knowing he could get there on his own, given the time to do so. He definitely didn’t want to push the man. Plus, he was enjoying feeling Oikawa so close to him like this so much he didn’t mind the wait.

“I’m afraid.”

Suga looked up to Asahi. He hadn’t even paid attention to the time passing, so he had no idea how long he waited. It was irrelevant, though. “Of?” he asked gently, noting how Asahi was looking sheepishly to the side.

“Of hurting Noya.”

“I’m sure he’d tell you if that ever happens.” Suga was sure of it. “But, I don’t understand why you’re afraid of hurting him, when you’re the gentlest person I know.”

Asahi smiled a little at that, but he was still looking away. Unfortunately the smile was gone as soon as it had appeared in just a small curl of his lips. “What if never wants to... you know... again... Because I hurt him?” Asahi spoke hesitantly.

“Wow, he really liked the sex,” Oikawa commented quietly, so quietly Suga was sure that Asahi didn’t hear.

Suga still smiled, silently agreeing with Oikawa’s comment, and wondering how the shy and diffident Asahi had come to worry about such things, to enjoy sex so much so that he was worrying about not having it. He felt a little as if he was looking at a different person – this wasn’t Asahi, the friend he had had for years. And yet, he was exactly that.

“I think you need to talk to Noya about this,” Suga suggested with his softest tone, his fingers just as softly still running through Oikawa’s hair.

“He’s so eager to...” Asahi awkwardly trailed off.

“To?” Oikawa prompted Asahi, shifting a little on the couch to rest his head on Suga’s thigh in a slightly different angle to direct his words at the timid man shrinking on their couch.

“To have sex again.” Asahi shrunk between his shoulders as he whispered.

Suga smiled fondly at him. “Talk to him.”

He looked down to what his hand was doing in Oikawa’s hair, twirling the strands in an absentminded manner as he continued. “Sex can be wonderful, and it should be able to be talked about with your partner.” He might’ve been drawing from his own experiences of uncertainty when it came to sex, but he was also talking with his own future – specifically his future with Oikawa – in mind. “You both need to be aware of what you want from your relationship.”

Oikawa opened his eyes, the same contemplative though in them that Suga had spoken in, and locked his gaze with him.

Asahi sighed and wrung his hands. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound to be.”

Suga shifted his gaze to look out the window, thinking of how to help Asahi now that they had finally gotten to the root of ‘the problem’. “Remember in school, when our teacher told us in health class that a good measure of being ready to have sex is when we can bring ourselves to buy condoms?” Suga asked.

Just from the way Asahi blushed Suga could tell he remembered, so he continued.

“I think the same applies here. If you’re not ready to talk about the sex with your partner, maybe don’t have it?”

Asahi looked absolutely disappointed, but with the violent red blush still dotting his cheeks.

“I know it’s not easy,” Suga said with sympathy. Hell, even he felt a little uncomfortable talking about sex with Asahi – he never thought he’d have a conversation about sex with Asahi of all people, and again too. But it was what his friend needed, and he was going to give the best advice he could. “But I really think it’s important that you just talk to Noya about this, of being afraid of hurting him. Who knows, he might even find it adorable that you care about his well-being like this.”

Asahi scratched his chin. “You’re probably right,” he said quietly then, lifting his eyes from the floor to Suga’s, a small, definitely shy, but still grateful smile on his lips.

“It amazes me how casually you talk about sex, Suga-chan.” Oikawa said then.

“It’s sex we’re talking about. Not a murder we’re planning.” Suga stated the obvious.

“I have a feeling you’d be able to talk about that too like it was the weather you were discussing.” Oikawa ran his finger under Suga’s chin in one quick movement.

Suga smiled at Oikawa’s words, and his gesture, and looked fondly down at him. He knew Asahi knew he liked Oikawa, and that he knew about the bet, but he didn’t feel the need to hide his affection towards Oikawa. He knew he didn’t have to hide his feelings in front of Asahi. This was actually par to the course of how he and Oikawa had been behaving with each other the past weeks, even months. He was absolutely certain that Asahi didn’t know about the fight they had had, and was most definitely under the notion that nothing major had happened between them.

“Maybe, but that’s only for the people I’ve planned murders with to know,” he replied to Oikawa’s comment.

Oikawa snickered softly at that and Suga couldn’t hide the corresponding grin forming on his own face.

“You two are an odd pair,” Asahi blurted then, his eyes widening right after, and Suga sensed that he hadn’t meant the slip of his tongue.

Suga was shocked too – had Asahi noticed after all? But how could he have when there was nothing new or unusual in the way that they were behaving? He still adjusted the collar of his shirt to make sure his collarbones were properly covered, that the darkening blemishes Oikawa had worked on his skin weren’t visible, and only then he chanced a look at Oikawa.

Oikawa was already looking up to him, and once their eyes met they burst into laughter. Because they really were, “the oddest”, Suga agreed with Asahi.

Asahi looked startled by their laughter, but he didn’t pry further into the issue, maybe accepting their oddity as it was and not thinking more of it.

But Suga couldn’t help but wonder as his laughter fainted away, if it was anyone else in the living room with them, would they have noticed anything different?

“I should go,” Asahi said then, his words mixing in with Suga and Oikawa’s laughter. “I don’t want to keep Noya waiting.”

“Have fun,” Suga wished sincerely. “And talk to him about this.”

“Drink wine or something,” Oikawa suggested with a smirk. “It’ll make it easier.”

Asahi halted on his way to the front door at Oikawa’s suggestion, looking back at them. “Okay,” he said quietly then, after a short moment of silent contemplation, nodding slightly. “Okay,” he repeated as he continued towards the door.

Suga snickered silently at his sudden resolve to do as Oikawa suggested, hoping that Asahi would be able to talk about his worries to Noya too.

 

 

...

 

 

The second the front door closed, Oikawa shot up and turned around to sit so he was facing Suga, discarding the ice on the coffee table in passing, before he placed his hands on Suga’s cheeks. “I thought he’d never leave,” he said and kissed giggling Suga.

He had waited the whole day to kiss Suga again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep kissing Suga, to explore his body, to learn how his body responded to the touches and kisses.

“Your hand is cold,” Suga said, interrupting the kiss and taking Oikawa’s right hand into his. He held it up for a moment, as if he was inspecting it.

“Ice,” Oikawa mentioned the obvious.

“I know,” Suga said with a dazzling smile, interlacing their fingers as the hands fell into his lap. “How was practicing with Kuroo?”

“It was good, but I don’t want to waste our time talking.” Oikawa flashed a quick smirk and was leaning to kiss Suga again, shuffling a little closer to him.

Suga didn’t seem to have anything against the kissing, far from it if the way his tongue eagerly, but gently, licked in Oikawa’s mouth. However, he was the first to pull away, leaning back a bit.

“But I want to know how it was to play with Kuroo.” Suga placed his hand on Oikawa’s chest, not to push him away, but to keep a bit of distance between them to get a reply.

“It was fine,” Oikawa said quickly, but the way Suga pressed his hand against the lean forward told Oikawa that Suga wanted a more comprehensive answer.

Oikawa sighed, just a small breath, and took the hand on his chest into his. “Honestly, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed playing. I mean, I knew I missed it, but I don’t think I comprehended how massive that missing part was in me until I was back in the gym, or bouncing the ball in my hands.”

Suga had a gentle, sympathetic look in his eyes as he listened to Oikawa talk, never interrupting when Oikawa paused to find the correct, fitting words to describe how he had felt _complete_ with the volleyball in his hand, how it had felt right to stand on the court. And all the while Oikawa spoke, Suga’s thumb moved back and forth across his hand, a soft tingling feeling on his skin. It was surprising to Oikawa how easy it was to say these things out loud to Suga.

“I already want to go back to the gym,” Oikawa said plaintively.

Suga’s smile widened at his comment. “I didn’t expect anything else.” His smile fell then. “But can your knee take it?”

“I promise my knee is fine, Suga-chan,” Oikawa said easily, almost flippantly. Because it was fine. A bit of ice was nothing new, even though it had been a while since the last time he had had to tend to his knee, and the pain was already gone. “But thank you for worrying and caring about it.” He caressed Suga’s cheek, feeling the smooth and soft of Suga’s skin under his thumb. “My knee feels very loved,” he added with a tease in his voice.

Suga chuckled softly and silently, his hand lightly rubbing on Oikawa’s knee.

Oikawa wondered if Suga could feel the surgical scar, that had been only a fine line until he had scratched it bloody and jagged in his frustration years ago, through the material of his pants. At least Suga’s little finger followed the ragged small bumps of it along on top of it.

“I hope Kuroo makes it into the team,” Suga said in a quiet voice then.  

Oikawa frowned with surprise. “You knew about that?”

“He’s been dreaming about it for a couple of years now,” Suga nodded along as he spoke. “But he never tried out because he had a job and that was secure and familiar. But now that he doesn’t have it, I’m glad he’s finally going after the volleyball.”

Oikawa hummed and trained his gaze on the play of their fingers as they softly caressed and twisted against each other in Suga’s lap. “He’s pretty good, too. He’ll probably make it if they’re looking for middle blockers. That’s really his specialty.”

“And yours was setting, right?”

“Right.”

Suga maneuvered on the couch until he was sitting on his knees, his both hands cupping Oikawa’s cheeks, a determined but soft look in his eyes. “Don’t be sad.”

“I’m not sad.” Oikawa denied immediately. He wasn’t sad, he wasn’t really anything –

“When you lose a dream, you make new ones.” Suga said softly, his thumbs moving back and forth on Oikawa’s cheekbones just as softly, like a touch of a flower petal. “That’s how you move on and keep living.”

Oikawa was perplexed. “Where is this coming from?” He looked straight into Suga’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts, and found himself unable to look away.

“It was your dream, wasn’t it?”

“It was never my dream to play in F.C. Tokyo.”

Suga smiled a little. “But it was your dream to play professionally.”

Oikawa nodded, the little he could with his head held between Suga’s soft but slightly dry hands.

“I’m glad you’re helping Kuroo to achieve his dream by practicing with him. I am.” Suga’s smile died a little, but Oikawa knew it wasn’t a contradiction to what he just said, more just that Suga was being serious. “But you’re graduating soon, and I know you still don’t know what you’re going to do after it. So, I’m telling you to find a dream, something to go for.”

Oikawa held Suga’s eye contact, letting Suga’s words to imprint themselves somewhere deep in him, to become a guide of sorts. How Suga had been able to see how he had been phoning it in the last couple of months, or since he had to quit volleyball, he had no idea. But Suga had noticed, and was imploring him to find _something._

“Find a dream, Tooru.” Suga repeated and kissed him, deep and loving, his hands lightly settling around Oikawa’s neck. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing, just something you can be passionate about.”

“I’m pretty passionate about you.” Oikawa placed his hands on Suga’s hips, his thumbs over the slightly protruding bones of Suga’s thin frame.

Suga shook his head a little and said, “I don’t count.”

“Do you have a dream?”

Suga sat back down, falling off of his knees, but keeping a steady eye contact with Oikawa. “Yes, but I’m not telling you what.”

Oikawa grinned. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a secret.” Suga answered mysteriously, looking up at Oikawa from under his brows and trailing his hands down along Oikawa’s arms.

 “Why is it a secret? Can’t you at least tell me?” Oikawa tried to use his most persuasive voice, but Suga seemed unaffected, as if he was impervious to Oikawa’s suggestiveness.

Suga only shook his head again, but with a small smile that was definitely hiding a secret behind it. “It’s kind of unattainable at the moment, but it’s something that I would really love to achieve, or have.”

Oikawa was intrigued. “What is it?”

“I really can’t tell you.”

“Do you always wish for it to happen when you see a shooting star?” Oikawa teased a little and gently grabbed Suga’s ankles. “Or when you blow your birthday candles?” He uncrossed Suga’s legs and started to push him to lie on his back. “Or blow an eyelash away?” He lay down between Suga’s legs and gave a small kiss on his lips.

“Every single time,” Suga replied as he shifted a little, lightly wrapping his legs around Oikawa’s thighs and his arms around Oikawa’s neck.

Oikawa made a small pout, resting his weight on his forearms beside Suga’s head. “Why did you give a straight answer? I wanted to tease you more about it.”

“It’s my new way of teasing you. Acting like you can’t tease me anymore.”

“Can you stop it? I don’t like it.” Oikawa kept pouting.

Suga only smiled as a response at that, and Oikawa got the feeling that Suga definitely had no intentions of stopping it, which only made him over exaggerate the pout.

“Can I kiss you now then? If I can’t tease you.” Oikawa looked at Suga’s lips, how he licked them and bit his bottom lip, successfully driving Oikawa mad. “I’ve waited whole day to kiss you again.”

Suga smiled softly, and Oikawa was sure his heart skipped a beat only to start again with a serious double time to catch up with his growing affectionate feelings.

“Always.”

So Oikawa did, kiss Suga that is, silently vowing to never stop. He didn’t lie earlier when he said that being with Suga had been his dream. And now it had become a reality for him. He had dreamed about holding and kissing Suga, and now he could so.

It was amazing to him how easy it was to do it with Suga, how seemingly effortlessly and without a lot of bustle and hustle and awkward silences they had moved further with showing their affections to the other. Really, honestly, had it ever been so easy for Oikawa to kiss someone?

 

 

...

 

 

Kuroo knocked on Bokuto and Akaashi’s apartment door. What he saw when the door opened made his heart sing from happiness – Bokuto was shirtless, his hair was tousled and he was grinning happily, while Akaashi was looking lethargic lounging on the couch. Kuroo knew what it meant.

“You two made up,” he said giddily. “And obviously had sex.”

“We obviously made love.” Bokuto corrected with a wide grin.

Kuroo chuckled at his friend’s pleased expression. “Good for you. I was really worried about you two.”

“We’re great now,” Bokuto assured jovially.

“You should probably put a shirt on when you come and answer the door, though.” Kuroo suggested, gesturing at Bokuto’s bare torso. It wasn’t anything shocking, nor did it make Kuroo uncomfortable to see him in such an undressed state. But still, good manners and all.

“But Keiji likes me like this.” Bokuto looked a bit confused, and proud at the same time.

Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, ducking his chin down a little with his lazy attempt at hiding his chuckles. “I’m sure he does,” he lifted his head up to say.

Bokuto grinned wider, his eyes disappearing with the stretch of his face muscles, and moved on. “What are you doing here?”

“We have damage control to do. Are you free for brainstorming or are you two still sex-crazed from the months’ celibacy?”

“Come in,” Bokuto beckoned Kuroo in with his hand.

“That’s not as definite an answer as you seem to think.” Kuroo warned him, stepping inside and carefully closing the door before he dropped his gym bag on the floor next to Bokuto and Akaashi’s shoes. “Did you ask me in for brainstorming or to have sex with you two?”

“No offence, Kuroo, but there’s no way I’d share Akaashi with anyone.” Bokuto said seriously.

Kuroo chortled, because, “Of course not, I know that.” He patted Bokuto’s shoulder. “But we do have a problem.”

“Yeah, ‘Kaashi told me about Suga knowing.”

“What do we do?” Kuroo asked with a shrug, not only from Bokuto, but from the universe.

“You should just apologize.” Akaashi suggested in his calm unassuming manner as he stood up from the couch. “And give everyone their money back.”

“Do you think that’s enough?” Bokuto looked uncertain. “A simple sorry seems too...” He trailed off, in search of a fitting word.

“Simple.” Kuroo provided helpfully, agreeing with Bokuto that it wouldn’t be enough.

“Exactly!” Bokuto exclaimed. “We probably should do something bigger.”

“I wouldn’t advise you to do anything extravagant. All Suga wants is for the bet to be resolved without anyone losing their money.” Akaashi said, but Kuroo still wasn’t sure.

“Wait,” Bokuto held up his hand. “Does Oikawa know about the bet?”

“Yep.”

“Should we apologize to him too?”

Kuroo thought back a couple of days, thinking of the way Oikawa had seemed casual about the whole thing, making a light flippant comment about it but that was it. “He doesn’t seem to care about the bet at all, so I don’t think so.”

“So, just Suga then.” Bokuto nodded, the both of them coming to the same conclusion.

“Just apologize to him,” Akaashi advised again and disappeared into the bedroom. Kuroo looked after him, wondering if he was right, if a ‘sorry’ was enough.

“Maybe we should get that duck he has wanted for years.” Bokuto suggested with an excited grin, his eyes practically shining.

“Don’t get him a duck!” came Akaashi’s shout through the bedroom door. Kuroo looked at it for a moment, thinking and pondering on Bokuto’s suggestion, which didn’t sound half bad. Suga had wanted a duck for as long as Kuroo had known him, but he always had seemed to be joking about the matter, instead of being serious about it. Still, it would be amusing.

“Do you know where we could get a duck?” he turned to ask from Bokuto, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Seriously,” Akaashi came back out of the bedroom, an item of clothing held in his hands. “Don’t get him a duck.” He handed the cloth, which appeared to be a simple white hoodie, to Bokuto.

“But he’d love it.” Bokuto protested, his voice muffled as he pulled the hoodie on, disheveling his hair even more. Akaashi reached out to smooth it out, closer to the usual spiked up style.

“But he doesn’t have a yard where to keep it.”

Kuroo tilted his head a little, his eyes studying Akaashi. “A yard? Is that what he wants?”

Akaashi nodded once, his arms crossed in front of his chest now that he wasn’t fixing Bokuto’s hair anymore.

“How about free passes to the zoo so he could go whenever he pleased to see the ducks?” Bokuto spoke up, getting excited again.

“Can’t he already do that with you working there? You could always let him in.” Kuroo pointed out. Bokuto was enthusiastic about bringing his friends to the zoo whenever they had free time.

“That’s true,” Bokuto agreed with him, and then let out a bark of laughter. “Remember when Suga got drunk and demanded to go to the zoo to see his friends, the ducks? And we actually had to tie him to his chair so he wouldn’t run out in his socks to see them?”

Kuroo laughed too, remembering the incident. They couldn’t let Suga go in such a state, but they did go out the next day to the zoo. Everyone else but Suga had groaned with their hangovers, while Suga had been over the moon once he saw the ducks. The smile on his face never left for three whole days.

“If you absolutely insist on doing something for him, maybe you could make a reservation to a restaurant for him and Oikawa.” Akaashi suggested then.

And Kuroo realized that Bokuto and Akaashi didn’t know how close Suga and Oikawa had come to ruining what they could be, could have. And that was probably how Suga and Oikawa wanted to keep the matter – under wraps.

“I don’t think so,” Kuroo said, measuring his words not to sound so hesitant. “We should let them figure themselves out first.”

He knew about the fight the two had had, he knew what Oikawa had said and how Suga had reacted. He also knew that the two had more or less patched things, but if they were only friends, and neither of them still had confessed, he didn’t want to rush them to do so, not when they were in such a fragile state of friendship.

“Then what do we do?” Bokuto asked, looking between Akaashi and Kuroo, searching for answers.

 

 

...

 

 

“What are these?” Oikawa poked at the bag by the counter.

He and Suga had traded making out on the couch to finding some food, after Suga’s insistence that he was hungry and a veiled threat – that Oikawa was convinced Suga had fully meant – that he would eat Oikawa’s tongue if he wasn’t fed immediately.

Oikawa had inquired what Suga would do when the mood to make out struck him, but he didn’t have a tongue anymore.

“I’d find someone else to make out with, obviously.” Suga had said so deadpan Oikawa wasn’t sure whether he meant it or not. But Suga made up for Oikawa’s whines of wondering how Suga could be so cruel to him with soft and adoring kisses, in middle of soft giggles, all over his face.

Nevertheless, Oikawa had decided that it was for the best to feed Suga. They could always make out later.

“The critique cards,” Suga answered his question, his eyes on the bag but his focus on pouring water into the kettle.

“Oh!” Oikawa perked up. “Can we read them?” He was excited to know what everyone had thought of the photos, and of the comment cards.

“Sure.” Suga shrugged, turning back to what he was doing. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Oikawa nodded his silent agreement to that, leaving the bag alone for now, and turned to lean his back against the island. He ran his hands through his hair as he watched Suga move around the kitchen in search of food and preparing his tea.

“Can I have the hair tie back?” he asked, already gathering his hair up.

Suga slipped it off of his wrist and held it out for him. Oikawa seamlessly picked it up and wrapped it around the hair to create a perfect but slightly messy ponytail.

“It’s become a habit to you,” Suga observed with a small smile as he took down two cups, Oikawa was pleased to note.

“My hair’s too long to keep open, it gets in the way,” he explained as he effortlessly finished the ponytail. “Is that bad?”

“No, I like it. I just didn’t expect you to pick it up so fast.”

“You like it?” Oikawa caught onto that little detail of admission with a teasing grin and reached to grab a hold of Suga’s shirt.

“Yes, I like it,” Suga admitted easily again, going along as Oikawa pulled him closer. “Are you ever going to get your hair cut again?”

“Maybe.” Oikawa kissed Suga. “Maybe not,” he leaned back a bit to say. He tried to smooth down the little tuft of hair that as always stubbornly and undeniably adorably sticking up on Suga’s head. “What did you do today? Don’t tell me you were in a meeting with Takeda the whole day.”

“No, that didn’t take long. But I went to see Daichi.”

“Oh.” Oikawa dropped his hand from Suga’s hair and let go of his shirt. He resisted taking a step away, though – he didn’t want to alarm Suga that something was wrong. “How come?”

“I think I freaked him out a little.” Suga spoke quietly, as if he was a little uncertain of his words, and took Oikawa’s hand in his.

Oikawa wondered why he did so, if it was just a way to keep in physical contact, or if he was searching for something else with the gesture.

“He came by the other day and I sent him away. I wanted to explain it to him.” Suga finished, his eyes on the way his fingers were playing with Oikawa’s.

Oikawa hummed, looking down as well and playing along with Suga’s fingers.

“What’s wrong?” Suga asked softly, his other hand cradling Oikawa’s chin, lifting it a little to see his eyes.

“Nothing.” Oikawa’s lips curled into a small smile, meant to lessen Suga’s worry – but apparently for naught. It would seem that Suga had lived with Oikawa too long to not see through it. He had probably caught onto it the second Oikawa had let go of him.

“Tooru, what’s wrong?” Suga asked again, tilting his head in search of Oikawa’s eyes. His hand moved to Oikawa’s cheek, his thumb gently caressing along the bone.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Oikawa tried to reassure and he moved to kiss Suga, turning them around so he could trap him against the island, encaging him with his arms.

And Suga let him, probably sensing that Oikawa didn’t want to talk about what was wrong.

And nothing was wrong, per say. Oikawa just wasn’t eager about talking about Daichi who had so rudely spoken to him, or about other people linked to Daichi – specifically Iwaizumi and the way he hadn’t been the friend Oikawa had desperately needed then. In a way, he could understand why Iwaizumi had been so distant and cold. Or maybe not _understand,_ but a small part of him had expected it.

Oikawa moved his hands to cup Suga’s jaw, to keep him close and in place for easy kissing. Each kiss, each brush of their lips and tongues was more and more lingering, more and more passionate, and definitely building towards something they weren’t ready for, not yet.

“Do we have any cookies?” Oikawa made the effort to pull back just a fraction and he whispered against Suga’s lips. Even though the kissing had been a distraction from thinking about their best friends, it was a bit dangerous to go further with it. He wanted to take Suga out before they had sex. He really, _really_ wanted to ask Suga out on a date and do everything right before anything else. Maybe Suga could sense the need to advance in certain way, which was good. But even better was that Suga didn’t push him to talk about anything.

Suga just nodded to his inquiry about the cookies and Oikawa grinned. He let go of Suga, satisfied for now, and went to find the deliciousness that was undoubtedly waiting for him in the cupboard. “I’m going to apply the vigilante policy on cookies.”

“And what’s that policy?” Suga inquired with a small smile Oikawa could hear in his voice, even with the water boiling and the sound of it loud and momentarily filling the kitchen.

Oikawa was smirking when he turned to look at him, with a cookie in his hand. “Unlimited.”

Suga laughed softly at him and shook his head. Oikawa could read his thoughts in his eyes, how he probably thought of him as someone absolutely ridiculous. He didn’t mind, though, not one bit, when he saw the way Suga took a deep, calming breath, and he minded even less when he saw the way Suga was looking at him.  

“I knew it was a mistake to let you watch that movie.”

“There are no bedtimes either.” Oikawa pointed out jovially, his only but not his brightest comeback as he bit into another cookie.

“You’re such a dork. I can’t believe I actually like you,” Suga said with a small disbelieving laughter.

“Oh, but I can.” Oikawa said confidently, holding the packet out to Suga, offering a cookie. “Because you’re a dork too.”

Suga took the offered cookie, still smiling softly, still eliciting happiness in Oikawa to witness it. “I’d have to be to keep up with you.”

Oikawa dropped his hand holding another cookie and leveled Suga with a serious look. “Can you stop being above the teasing? It’s freaking me out.”

Suga’s smile widened and Oikawa saw how he bit his lip, presumably so he wouldn’t laugh out loud. “But it’s fun.”

“I’m asking nicely.”

“Hmm,” Suga thought about it first. “No you’re not.”

“I said ‘can you’.”

Suga seemed to consider that for a moment too while he finished his cookie and brushed his fingers on his hand to get rid of the small crumbs stuck on the ends of his fingertips. “I probably could,” he said slowly. “But I don’t want to.”

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa mock wailed as loudly and as whiny as he could, faking the sounds of his sobs. “Stop being mean.”

“I’m sorry!” Suga wailed with him.

It made both of them laugh, the cause of their wailing momentarily forgotten.

“You’re ridiculous,” Suga stated with laughter still filling his voice.

“But you like it, because you like me.” Oikawa countered, setting the box of cookies down in favor of reaching out to Suga.

“That’s true.” Suga admitted softly, taking Oikawa’s outstretched hand and moving across the kitchen from the counter to the island to join him.

Oikawa let out a truly given up sigh, filled with burden that Suga would so easily step away from the teasing. Although, it was much more meaningful for Suga to admit that he liked Oikawa straightaway, compared to how he sometimes did it with teasing – and Oikawa liked it, the straightforwardness.

Suga giggled at his burdened sigh. “You like me too.” He might’ve worded it to sound like an accusation, but his voice was far from it, soft and fond, almost marveling.

Oikawa decided to take the non-teasing route as well, and wrapped his arms around Suga’s waist to keep him close, bringing his hands together behind Suga’s back. “Yeah, I do.”

Suga smiled softly at him, and gave him quick kiss on the lips before he patted his arms lightly. Oikawa let go of him, but followed him to the counter and wrapped his arms around Suga again – this time from behind him.

“I want to ask you something,” Oikawa murmured against Suga’s neck and closed his eyes to sense Suga’s body against his in other ways.

“Okay,” Suga sounded casual, clearly not grasping on the magnificence of Oikawa’s ‘favor’, and poured the tea into the cups he had set up on the counter earlier. 

Oikawa moved his head next to Suga’s to whisper. “Would you go to a volleyball game with me?”

Suga looked over his shoulder at Oikawa, his eyes running on Oikawa’s face, pouring over his features to read his expression. “Of course.” Suga promised, his voice as genuine as it always was when he agreed to do something for Oikawa, or for anyone.

Oikawa smiled a little in response and kissed Suga’s neck, feeling the pulse there against his lips beating in synch with Suga’s heart that he could feel against his chest, standing so close to each other as they were.

“Do you have a game in mind already?” Suga moved one of the cups a little to the side so it was easier for Oikawa to pick it up.

“Kuroo’s next.” Oikawa answered easily. The thought to see Kuroo in action had come to him when they had been practicing together. Plus, it would be nice to know if he could handle watching volleyball live without growing irritated and stomping out of the gym cursing at the universe about the unfairness of it all.

Suga was frowning when he turned in Oikawa’s arms. “You know he doesn’t allow me there.”

“He doesn’t have to know you’re there.”

“Do you not know what league his team plays in?” Suga asked, his frown disappearing. “There are barely a few hundred spectators in a game. He’ll spot me.” He spoke casually but with undeniable meaning of importance in his voice.

“So,” Oikawa shrugged, unmoved by Suga’s words. “Wear a disguise.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so nervous to post this chapter, I don't know why.  
> But, ah, it's done now and I can move on to finish the next one. 
> 
> Honestly, though, it was such a relief to finally be able to write them kissing. I'm serious. RELIEF
> 
> I think I'll start a countdown of chapters to count how long I manage to keep Suga and Oikawa's relationship a secret from their friends and neighbors. This is 1  
> (I probably won't last beyond three, since I already have written how it happens, just the when is still undecided)  
> *shrugs* I guess we'll see what happens :) 
> 
> See you next time! 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> "You didn't actually buy him a duck!" 
> 
> ...
> 
> "We're playing sports anime bingo!"  
> "Close up on sweat and heavy breathing? Well, this is promising."  
> "My favorite is the "homoerotic staring"."  
> "With those two in mind, "absurd body proportions" is interesting." 
> 
> ...
> 
> “You forced him to give up something he loved. Granted, no one knew he’d end up giving up everything else he loved along with it. But you’re the reason he had to quit volleyball.”  
> “He’d be walking with a fucking cane now if he’d refused the surgery.”


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies! It's been a while and we're going to be here for another one. The end is looming already (yes, looming since I hate to think about ending this story) but not for a little while. Let's enjoy this as long as it lasts :)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter in middle of chapters <3

 

 

“Tooru?” Suga asked as he rounded the couch the man was lying and studying on.

“Mm?” came Oikawa’s distracted hum in the form of a question, from somewhere behind the book he was reading – it made Suga smile and he crawled on the same couch and settled on his side between Oikawa and the back of the couch.

Oikawa didn’t pause his studying, his eyes still diligently moving across the page as Suga wrapped his arm around his chest and his leg over Oikawa’s right one, pressing as close as possible.

“Can you take a break?” he whispered into Oikawa’s ear, his lips brushing on the shell of it. He could feel Oikawa’s full body shutter and it made him grin. “I want to make out.”

Oikawa chuckled at that and lowered his book a little to look at him. “Yeah, let’s make out.”

Suga leaned into a kiss, just a quick press of their lips together, before he pulled back.

“Put the book away. Otherwise it’ll distract you.”

Oikawa chuckled again, this time the sound it was smug. “No it won’t,” he said with confidence and leaned up to kiss Suga. He did put the book down, though, and it ended up somewhere on the couch in middle or in between or under the cushions. Suga didn’t care where it fell to, not when he had Oikawa’s undivided attention and his warm hands were slipping under his shirt.

“You know,” Oikawa pulled back a little to talk, “I could get used to these kind of study breaks.”

“Stop talking,” Suga instructed almost immediately, impatient to keep kissing Oikawa, his hand on Oikawa’s cheek to keep him from turning away.

Oikawa was laughing against his lips, into the kiss, which only made Suga to lightly laugh as well. “You’re being impossible,” he berated with zero meaning in it, leaving little pecks across Oikawa’s jaw in middle of the words.

“You still like me,” Oikawa stated even more confidently, coming out almost cocky, brushing his hands down Suga’s back, his fingers nails leaving shiver inducing trails on his skin. Still, Suga couldn’t disagree with him.

“Maybe not right now,” he said, though, with the slightest mischievous grin.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa predictably whined, which widened Suga’s smile as Oikawa pulled his head closer to kiss him, to wipe off the silly smile of teasing.

Suga really didn’t have anything against the kissing, and went along with it eagerly, pressing even closer to Oikawa. If only –

If only they weren’t interrupted.

They had kept their front door locked for a couple of days, but then had forgotten it once and Kuroo walked in almost catching them making out in the kitchen when he came for food, and after that they just didn’t bother locking it anymore. Maybe they were lazy, maybe they were testing how long it would take for them to be discovered.

It hadn’t happened yet, though, and Suga was quick to pull away from Oikawa and fall back comfortably between him and the back of the couch, pressing his lips tightly together in a wan attempt at hiding the fact that they had just spent who knows how long making out, to pull his shirt down when Oikawa pulled his hand from under it, when they heard the door open and bang shut.

“Do you mind if I watch my show here?” Hanamaki asked as he walked straight to the unoccupied couch and threw himself on it to sit down, already putting the TV on. “Mattsun is watching something that he deems more important.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Suga answered easily, carefully watching Hanamaki for signs that he had seen them locking lips – but there were none.

“Great,” Hanamaki replied just as the theme of his show came on, and as his focus was seemingly completely on the TV, Suga chanced a glance at Oikawa.

It might’ve been a mistake, since they both cracked into loud laughter and Suga pressed his face into the crook of Oikawa’s neck to muffle it, his hand grabbing onto Oikawa’s shirt.

“What’s so funny?” Hanamaki asked curiously.

Suga lifted his head up to answer, and saw that Hanamaki was still steadfastly facing the TV. “Nothing.”

Oikawa was still silently snickering next to him, and he had dug up his book from wherever he had stashed it earlier, and was quick to hide behind it.

Hanamaki didn’t seem to pay much mind to the answer, as he didn’t acknowledge it at all, and Suga settled more or less where and how he had been earlier, his arm still wrapped around Oikawa’s chest and his leg over and between Oikawa’s bent knees, while Oikawa continued his reading and studying.

“I can’t believe they’re going to stop making this show. This is the last season.” Hanamaki commented in disbelief about his favorite show’s apparent and unfair end.

Suga propped himself on his elbow, his other hand on Oikawa’s collarbone, his fingers idly playing with the collar of Oikawa’s shirt, to watch the show with Hanamaki. He had no idea what it was called, or what it was about, but he was sure he had heard Hanamaki mention it at least once or twice, maybe even more.

“How horrible,” Oikawa said dryly.

“No one asked your opinion,” Hanamaki snapped back, his eyes never leaving the happenings of his favorite show. It was kind of cute how protective and defensive he got over the show.

“I thought I’d offer it anyway,” Oikawa said back and turned the page.

Hanamaki glanced at Oikawa at that, and by extension at Suga as well since they were wrapped up so closely to each other. “When are you going to be done with your dissertation? I swear every time I see you you’re doing something with it – writing, reading.” He probably meant it as a stab at Oikawa, but Suga knew that Oikawa wouldn’t take it as such.

“Oh, it’s already done,” Oikawa replied casually and turned the page again.

“Wait, what?” Hanamaki looked to Suga for answers, and he nodded slightly with a proud smile on his lips. “Your thesis is ready? Then what the hell are you still doing with your nose pressed into a book? I know you didn’t enjoy the subject that much.”

“I’m preparing to defend it.”

“And how long have you kept this from us?”

“I don’t know,” Oikawa said with a shrug. “I haven’t seen you guys for a couple of days.”

“But still, you should’ve told us. Send a text or something.”

Suga followed their conversation with a small smile on his lips. It was sweet, and spoke for miles how long the two men had been friends.

“We need to celebrate. Shit, this is really awesome, Oikawa.” Hanamaki seemed more and more dazed by the news, which caused Oikawa’s lips to curl with amusement as he kept on reading, as if he wasn’t at all disrupted by the conversation he was in.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of comfortable here right now,” he replied to Hanamaki’s insistence to celebrate.

“I don’t mean right now, I’m watching this.” Hanamaki gestured to the TV he had been ignoring for the past couple or so minutes. “But we’re definitely going to celebrate. Your accomplishment deserves to be celebrated.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa smiled cockily and turned the page again. “I agree.”

“Does anyone else know?” Hanamaki asked then. “Did you know, Suga?”

“Of course,” he answered softly with a slow smile.

“No one else knows yet,” Oikawa answered then.

“We have to throw you a party or something.”

“How about you don’t do that until I actually hold my degree?” Oikawa suggested. His tone might’ve been light, but Suga could tell he really meant it.

“We can’t do that. Akiko-san is alre-“

“Do you want something to eat, Makki?” Suga interrupted, rudely yes, but it had to be done. Even if Oikawa did know that his mother was planning a graduation party, it didn’t mean that they were going to discuss it in front of him.

Hanamaki seemed to catch the drift of the interruption and there wasn’t even a slight look of offence on his face. “Yeah, why don’t I do that?” he asked as he was already getting up.

Suga saw Oikawa’s eyes follow Hanamaki’s moving as far as they went before they’d slip inside his skull. When he couldn’t see Hanamaki anymore, he turned his head slightly towards Suga. “Akiko-san is planning a party, huh?” he asked with a smirk.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Suga faked ignorance.

Oikawa chuckled. “I already knew. She told me months ago,” he spoke casually, but with the amusement clear in his lowered voice as he turned back to his book.

“I still don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re on about.” Suga pretended and he lowered his head back down, to rest on Oikawa’s shoulder. He didn’t care what was happening on the TV screen - the commercials - and Hanamaki’s clattering in their kitchen gave him the perfect opportunity and a convenient cover to ask about something that had bothered him since the man had come in.

“I have a question,” he whispered.

“Mm?”

“Were we always this close and touchy?”

Suga could see the way Oikawa blinked quickly and multiple times in succession as he processed the question.

“Why?” Oikawa turned his head to look at him, their faces so close their noses were practically touching.

“Because Makki hasn’t mentioned a word or made a remark of the way we’re lying here.” Suga could hear Hanamaki puttering around in the kitchen, the dishes softly clinking together, the fridge and the cupboard opening and closing.

Oikawa turned his head back to look at the ceiling, his eyes moving listlessly as he was probably seeing nothing at all, immersed in his thoughts as he were. “I guess,” he landed on an answer. His hand landed on Suga’s knee, his thumb gently and slowly brushing over it, as if to highlight the fact that yes, this was what they had done for weeks.

Suga nodded, agreeing with him after he thought about it for a moment too. He thought that they must not have been acting too differently from the way they always had, or lately had.

 “Unless you told him about us?” he checked anyway.

“I didn’t,” Oikawa whispered with a shake of his head. “I’ve spent the past days either with you or studying. The only time I left the apartment was to go practice with Kuroo. I haven’t had the time to hang with anyone else.”

“You could’ve texted him,” Suga pointed out. “OMG, I finally confessed to Suga and we kissed and he’s the best boyfriend ever.” He teased in a whisper, pitching his voice higher than usual, mockingly imitating what Oikawa’s texting was like.

Oikawa scoffed in protest, the sound high and breath light, and returned to his reading. “I don’t text like that,” he said petulantly.

Suga snickered softly, knowing that of course. Still, it was fun to tease Oikawa.

“Your kitchen is like a cornucopia of food,” Hanamaki said as he came back with his mouth full of whatever it was that he had found, unknowingly interrupting their moment of whispers and soft touches, silly teasing and adoring looks.

“I know,” Suga replied softly, propping his head up again. “It’s why everyone is always here.”

“Do you think everyone would stop coming around if there was barely anything in our kitchen?” Oikawa asked, his nose back in his book.

Suga made a half-hearted shrug, barely managing it with the way he was squished between Oikawa and the couch. “Maybe.”

“Please don’t test that theory,” Hanamaki mumbled, his mouth full again. “By the way –“ he stopped to swallow. “Do you realize how it looks like when you’re like that?”

Oikawa closed his book with a snap and he looked at Hanamaki. “What does it look like?” He had a challenge in his tone that baffled Suga, contrasted with the challenging grin he was wearing, as if he was testing Hanamaki to dare to say something.

“Nothing,” Hanamaki answered immediately, turning back to his show. “It looks like nothing at all,” he added quietly.

Suga eyed Hanamaki for a moment, wondering about the exchange he just witnessed. “What did you mean with that?” he asked from Oikawa in a very low whisper to make sure that Hanamaki didn’t accidentally hear it.

Oikawa smirked and opened his book, looking for the page he had left off on, leaving Suga hung and dry in wait for an answer.

Suga narrowed his eyes a fraction, suspicious of Oikawa’s behavior and smirk, but decided not to ask further into it. He had a feeling it had something to do with him, maybe something Oikawa had previously discussed with his closest friends, maybe something about Oikawa’s feelings towards him.

Whatever it was, Suga let it go and focused back to the show, quickly swept up by the drama and the background laughter. He felt utterly calm and comfortable where he was, pressed against Oikawa’s side. His fingers were idly, but very softly, tapping on Oikawa’s side, his arm and on his waist, so unconsciously that he didn’t register he was doing it until Oikawa’s hand came to cover his, stopping the movement.

He looked down to Oikawa in question just as Oikawa was already offering a reason. “It tickles,” he said in a hushed voice.

Suga smiled softly. “Sorry.”

He slid lower then, starting to feel his other arm growing numb with the way it was weighed down by his head in the propped up position. He slid low enough to rest his head on his hand that he placed on Oikawa’s shoulder. He could feel the way Oikawa’s chest and stomach moved in time with his breathing, allowing it to lull him into a peaceful state of mind.

“Do you want to switch positions?” Oikawa offered, still in his hushed voice, but Suga shook his head.

“I’m comfortable. And I can still see the TV from here.”

“Okay,” Oikawa spoked so impossibly softly Suga could feel his insides liquefying.

“Are you comfortable?” he checked just in case, and received a nod in answer. And he was content with it, with how they were lying on the couch, with Hanamaki in the room, all of them wrapped up into their own things and thoughts.

“Don’t move this leg,” Oikawa warned then, his hand landing on Suga’s thigh.

Suga bit his bottom lip not to grin so widely. He knew the position of his leg between Oikawa’s was a little compromising, and he knew that moving it could cause some definite, and embarrassing when they were in the company of other people, functions in Oikawa’s groin.

“I won’t,” he promised, but Oikawa’s hand stayed. It was warm, so impossibly and invitingly warm that he never wanted Oikawa to move it away. If he could, he’d lay there for the rest of his life, growing old and turning wrinkly on the old couch that was slowly turning more and more lumpy and uncomfortable.

There was a soft knock on their front door that interrupted his wishful thinking, and a second later it was opening.

He lifted his head up to see who it was, and saw Kenma first, and Hinata second –hanging on Kenma’s back, his arms looped around the elder’s shoulders so his hands were limply hanging over his chest, fiddling with the drawstrings of Kenma’s hoodie.

“Can we hang here for a bit?” Hinata asked as they came to the living room. “We got bored watching the computer reboot.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Suga told them.

“Not always,” Oikawa whispered next to him, giving him a pointed look before he turned the page.

Suga shushed him quickly, almost playfully, and sat up, slinging his legs over Oikawa’s hips so they were dangling in the air, not reaching the floor as they usually were. “Why were you rebooting your computer? Was there something wrong with it?”

“Just felt like cleaning up,” Kenma explained with a barely there shrug as he and Hinata sat down on the floor, sharing one of the pillows there.

“I’m going to my room,” Oikawa said suddenly, but quietly only to Suga, pushing himself to sit up too.

“Sorry,” Suga apologized for the nuisance and loudness of others, moving his legs to the side so Oikawa could get up and taking Oikawa’s hand in his for a moment.

Oikawa smiled back at him, just a tiny, soft, curl of his lips and squeezed his hand right before their hands didn’t reach anymore.  

Suga looked after him, in wonderment that he could read and walk at the same time without bumping into the walls, noting the slight limp he still had from not putting the proper weight on his right leg. Sure, Oikawa had gone practicing with Kuroo again just the previous day, and it was probably normal, maybe just an old habit from years ago that had come back, being careful with his knee. Still, Suga was a little worried.

“Oh, the door is actually open,” Kuroo said as he came in. “I swear I thought we were getting exiled for some reason.”

“You know why,” Akaashi commented walking in after him. “You know exactly why.”

“Fine, I know why.” Kuroo threw his hands up. “And that’s why I’m here now.”

“Why are you here?” Suga asked, curious as he turned to sit properly on the couch, with a frown on his forehead.

“Do you mind keeping it down?” Hanamaki interjected. “I’m trying to watch something here.”

“What are you wat- Oh, no. I hate this show.” Kuroo said with distaste coloring his voice.

“Then go away.” Hanamaki said back, sounding really annoyed.

“Stop bickering,” Suga told them, quite sternly too. He didn’t like it when he had to act like he was his friends’ parent, but sometimes it seemed absolutely necessary, just so he didn’t need to listen to them bicker.

Hanamaki pointed at Kuroo but looked at Suga. “He started it.”

“It doesn’t matter who started it. Both of you just stop.”

“Fine,” Hanamaki conceded and went back to his show, while Kuroo sat down in the armchair to watch the same show he claimed he hated.

“Hi kids,” he acknowledged the two, who were now lying on the floor, sharing one pillow under their heads, Hinata watching Kenma play something on his phone.

Suga smiled at the image they made too, how it looked like they had never grown past the teenage years, but still seeming so adult-like when they were quiet and calm like that.

“Hey,” Akaashi greeted him then as he sat down on the same couch, their shoulders almost touching, pulling his focus from admiring the easy way Hinata and Kenma were so content and comfortable with each other.

“How are you?” Suga studied Akaashi, the absence of stress that had lined Akaashi’s features the past weeks, if not months.

“I’m good.” Akaashi was nodding. “We’re good.”

Suga smiled, knowing Akaashi meant him and Bokuto. “Where is Bokuto?”

“He’s coming straight from work soon. He said he wanted us all to meet here, I’m not sure why.” Akaashi answered.

“Intrigue,” Suga said as mysteriously as he could.

Akaashi cracked a small smile at that, but it turned so soft it was barely visible anywhere else but in his eyes. “Thanks for listening to me the other day.”

“What are friends for?” Suga asked kindly. “I’m glad you two worked everything out.”

“Me too. How about you and –“

Suga shook his head to silence Akaashi, to indicate this wasn’t the company to talk about the kiss he had mentioned. Akaashi seemed to understand, nodding slightly, probably comforted not to worry by the happy smile Suga was smiling with.

Suga wondered if he should tell Akaashi about the fight he had had with Oikawa, to give him the full disclosure of what had happened and how they had ended up where they were now. But then again, he and Oikawa had agreed not to tell anyone about them, not yet. So, he figured that figuring out how much to tell Akaashi could wait until later time. He knew Akaashi would have questions once they’d tell everyone that they were now dating.

“Hey, hey, hey,” was then heard as Bokuto burst in, carrying a brown cardboard box that seemed to have something moving inside it.

Akaashi shot up. “You didn’t actually get him a duck!”

Suga was taken aback by Akaashi’s quick reaction and louder than usual voice. It wouldn’t qualify as a shout, but coming from someone so softly spoken, it pretty much sounded like it.

“How’d you guess?” Bokuto asked, marveling, as he set the box down.

“What?” Hinata asked excitedly and he crawled on all fours across the living room to the box.

Everyone followed his example and gathered closer to Bokuto as well to peer inside the box, where there really was a duck looking around in apparent terror.

Suga looked up to Bokuto, to the seemingly pleased grin on his face.

“We didn’t actually get him a duck,” Kuroo amended from the armchair, looking at Suga who got the feeling that they were talking about him. “It’s just for a couple of days.”

“Yeah, it got injured by a territorial goose, and it needs a place to stay to recuperate. It can’t really fly, plus he needs to deal with PTSD. I figured it could stay with Suga for a day or two. With my supervisor’s permission, of course.” Bokuto was grinning widely at the end of it, his hands on his hips.

“Wait, what?” Suga asked, flabbergasted. “You want me to house a duck for a couple of days?” He looked between Kuroo and Bokuto, completely unable to comprehend his friend’s motivation.

“It’s an apology for the bet.” Kuroo explained, oh so helpfully.

“A duck?”

“I think it’s cute,” Hinata commented from beside the box where he was crouched down to softly pet the duck’s head.

Suga massaged his temples. “I can’t believe this.”

“Do you hate it?” Bokuto asked carefully.

No, Suga didn’t hate it. But he had always talked about wanting a duck without actually wanting one. Not unless he lived in a house or a farm where he could keep it.

“No, Bokuto it’s –“

“We’re really sorry for the bet,” Bokuto said meekly. “Really sorry.”

“We really are,” Kuroo added. “Can you forgive us?”

“I’m sorry too,” Hinata piped in, his voice soft and small. “But I lost a long time ago.”

“We’re sorry as well.” Hanamaki said then.

Even the duck quacked softly in agreement.

Suga sighed. It was so endearing of them to apologize like this, getting him a duck, even if it was just for a couple of days. And they all sounded truly sincere with their apologies. “Did you give everyone their money back?” he checked from Kuroo and Bokuto.

“We’re going to,” Kuroo promised with a serious nod.

“Okay,” Suga said with a small smile. “I forgive you. All of you.” He looked around to look everyone in the eyes for a brief moment. Even with Kenma, who he was sure had never taken part in the bet, like Akaashi or Asahi. But probably for a different reason than the other two.

“Yay!” Bokuto hooted, throwing his hands up in celebration. “Then we can play!”

“Play what?” Hanamaki asked carefully.

“I found this thing online. It’s going to be awesome!” Bokuto lifted the duck carefully out of the box and set it down.

Suga followed with his eyes how it took off immediately, probably looking for a safe space to hide in in the unfamiliar place. It was fine, the apartment was small and everything valuable was behind closed doors and in drawers that the duck wouldn’t be able to open.

“You don’t have to keep it,” Akaashi whispered next to him.

Suga turned to look at him, and he was aware of the wide and happy smile he was wearing, one he wasn’t even going to try and hide. “I love it.”

Akaashi smiled softly back at him, the tiniest upturn of his lips.

“There’s food for the duck in the box,” Kuroo said then, putting the box down on the kitchen island while Bokuto was busy emptying the contents of his bag on the coffee table.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Bokuto said, brandishing some sort of white cards in his hand for everyone to take one. “Trust me,” he added when Hanamaki kept eyeing him dubiously.

Somewhere in the background, the soft quacks of the duck could be heard, but no one paid any attention to it as they were all smirking and laughing and chuckling, giggling and snickering and pointing at the cards.

“Let me call Mattsun here, too.” Hanamaki pulled his phone out, still snickering with the card in his hand.

“Yaku said he’s coming by too,” Kuroo said with a grin.

Only then did Suga remember that it was Wednesday.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa dropped his book to his lap and rubbed his eyes when he was sure he had mistakenly read two lines at the same time because his tired eyes had crossed. With slightly tingling and blurred eyes, and with sparks all around his vision, he glanced at the clock. He didn’t remember what time he had gone to his room to study, but it must’ve been some time, a long time, ago.

He could take a break, he probably should. He could see the text notifications on his phone from the reminders to take a break Iwaizumi was still sending him. He was mostly ignoring them, but it was kind of nice, and considerate, of his best friend to keep worrying about him. Maybe he should break the news to Iwaizumi that he had finished the dissertation. But that would mean he would have to communicate with him and he really didn’t feel like it.

_“BINGO!”_

Oikawa looked at his door, towards the loud shout that must’ve come from their living room, wondering what was going on.

_“YOU CHEATED!”_

Oikawa furrowed his brow with confusion. What the hell was going on? He spun his chair around to stand up and go investigate, leaving his book on the desk among all the others.

“No, I didn’t,” someone who sounded unmistakably like Matsukawa insisted.

“We already agreed that the ‘absurd comeback’ you marked didn’t count.”

That was definitely Hanamaki, and Oikawa smiled unconsciously at the sound of his friends bickering like that, familiar and light, and because of the familiarity it had a weird way of comforting him.

“Then why is your ‘two characters complete each other’ marked?” Matsukawa asked.

“Because they do!”

Oikawa walked into the living room at that moment to see Hanamaki wildly motioning with his hands in frustration. Everyone else in the living room was following the exchange between Hanamaki and Matsukawa with unabashed joy and enjoyment, and with unhidden and wide smiles. And was that - ?

Oikawa was sure he had hallucinated the duck that he thought he saw disappear behind the kitchen island and quickly shook the image from his brain.

“You always do this. You blame me of cheating when I win.” Matsukawa said like he was giving up, a soft sigh of exasperation leaving his nose. “Remember the last time we played Mario Kart and you stomped off because you were so sure I somehow cheated?”

“You did cheat! You kept throwing bananas at me.”

A scatter of laughter rang in their living room at that and Hanamaki turned to face them. “No, he actually threw real bananas at me.”

There was an even louder laughter at that and Hanamaki turned back to Matsukawa. “You didn’t get a bingo and that’s final, banana thrower.” Hanamaki crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“I want to mark my ‘absurd comeback’ just from that.” Oikawa heard Kuroo whisper and saw a bitten down smirk on his face.

Bokuto smirked back at Kuroo. “I know, me too.”

“What are you guys doing?” Oikawa asked then, completely lost on what was going on – mentions of bingo, cheating, the freaking bananas he had never stopped hearing about since Hanamaki loved to bring it up – and he got everyone’s attention. Even Hanamaki and Matsukawa stopped their bickering to look at him standing behind the couch.

“We’re playing sports anime bingo!” Hinata answered, looking up at him from the floor.

“What?”

“Come on, it’s fun.” Suga beckoned Oikawa to join them.

He went to sit on the floor by the couch Suga was sharing with Yaku, his side right next to Suga’s leg that was dangling off the couch, swaying back and forth a little. There was space elsewhere, of course there was, but where he went, there was enough space for him to extend his legs to fit under the coffee table. Besides, it was only an excuse to sit close to Suga, since he was always drawn towards him.

“Were we too loud?” Suga asked softly, his hand gently playing with his ponytail.

“No,” Oikawa shook his head a little and he reached over to the coffee table in front of him to get one of the papers there. “What is this?”

“It’s bingo. You get to cross off the things on the card when they happen on the screen,” Bokuto answered.

Oikawa read the bingo card, a smile growing on his face wider and wider with every little box. “Close up on sweat and heavy breathing? Well, this is promising.” He tossed the card back on the coffee table.

“My favorite is the “homoerotic staring”.” Kuroo offered his opinion with a grin.

“Has anyone got that yet?” Oikawa asked, looking around at everyone.

“We haven’t seen that on the _screen_ yet,” Hanamaki said pointedly and gestured with his chin towards the armchair where Bokuto had Akaashi in his lap.

Oikawa chuckled lightly and leaned his head back so it was resting on the couch.

“Let them be,” Suga said softly, his hand coming down on Oikawa’s head to play with his ponytail again. “They’re happy.”

Oikawa leaned his head against Suga’s knee, angling towards the soft touch. He hoped that Suga would pull off his hair tie and run his fingers through his hair, wishing for the bliss of the touch.

But Suga did no such thing, not that Oikawa was complaining when felt how Suga moved a little and heard him patting the space next to him on the couch.

“Come up here,” Suga said softly and Oikawa climbed up on the couch, settling half on Suga’s lap.

“You’re like a giant baby,” Suga laughed softly, pushing Oikawa so only his legs were in Suga’s lap, gently over his thighs.

Oikawa pouted in response, and it only made Suga giggle louder as he poked at Oikawa’s cheek. “A baby.”

Oikawa’s gaze was suddenly drawn to Kuroo, who was eyeing them curiously. Assuming from the slight expression Kuroo made right after, he didn’t seem to think much of what he saw, but Oikawa was sure their interactions had sparked his curiousness.

“Oh, great,” Nishinoya announced as if he was really excited about something as he came in, banging the door closed after him. “You’re all here.”

“Where else would we be?” Hanamaki asked sarcastically.

Nishinoya didn’t seem to either hear him or just didn’t care to acknowledge the words as he kept going. “I have an idea.”

“Oh, no. What is it this time?” Yaku moaned.

“No, it’s going to be great, trust me,” Nishinoya assured. “I want to host a single’s night to find Tanaka someone to date.”

“Are you kidding?” Kuroo asked with a smirk, and Oikawa had no idea if he was smirking because he thought the idea was genius or because he thought that the idea was ridiculous.

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Bokuto asked.

“I’m totally serious. And you’re all invited of course. Bring all the single people you know.” Nishinoya continued, actually sounding sincerely serious.

“You want to find Tanaka a boyfriend?” Hinata asked.

“Or a girlfriend,” Nishinoya shrugged. “I know he’s not picky about the gender.”

“Count me out,” Kuroo said then, as if he was truly brushing his hands off the matter.

“Yeah, I’m not getting involved either,” Bokuto went along with him.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Nishinoya kept speaking as if he still found his idea the best one ever. “Remember two years ago, Suga, when you met Konoha?”

“You planned that?” Suga sounded dubious, but shocked.

“No, not me.” Nishinoya denied, shaking his head. “That was Kuroo and Bokuto. They got all their single friends to come to the bar on a “blind date” to meet you. That’s where I got the idea.”

“Please tell me Noya is making this up,” Suga leaned forward a little to address Kuroo and Bokuto, who exchanged a slightly ashamed look with each other.

“What the hell?” Suga asked then. “Have you always been orchestrating my love life?”

“Not always,” Kuroo said slowly, looking for reassurance from Bokuto. “Just that time. And... another... time,” he added even slower, in a mumble, as if he didn’t really want to say it.

Oikawa had a feeling they were talking about the bet, but then again it was possible they weren’t.

“You were so sad about Akaashi breaking up with you that we wanted to make you happy again.” Bokuto defended what they had done. It could be admitted that they had acted with good intentions, but knowing how much Suga hated others getting involved with his relationships, it was understandable why Suga was reacting the way he was and why Kuroo and Bokuto sounded so genuinely sorry.

“Who’s Konoha?” Oikawa interrupted, unable to keep from asking, unwilling to remain ignorant about the mystery man Nishinoya had mentioned. The name was unfamiliar to him, but apparently this was another ex of Suga’s. He was getting a little jealous again, for a completely unknown reason. He didn’t like that he didn’t know who Suga had dated – situation of it so different to him, since he knew the two other people he knew Suga had dated.

Or, maybe this was one of the friends with benefits -people Kuroo had told him Suga had once had.

He didn’t like that idea either, and he wanted to wrap himself around Suga almost possessively. He refrained from doing so, just because there were people around them who didn’t know and who shouldn’t know yet that they were an actual real couple now.

 “He’s no one,” Suga answered his question, speaking quickly with an indifferent shake of his head, as if he didn’t really want to talk about this ‘Konoha’, whoever he was.

Bokuto snorted. “Of course you’d say that.”

“Can you tell us then?” Matsukawa asked. “We don’t know who that is either.”

“Yeah, Suga. Tell us, who is Konoha?” Kuroo said with a teasing lilt and a shit-eating grin. Oikawa caught the way Kuroo looked straight at him - was Kuroo subtly trying to convey that he should know about this Konoha since he liked Suga?

“He’s no one,” Suga repeated. “Does anyone want something to drink?” he asked as he stood up, leaving Oikawa’s side suddenly cold in the room temperature when Suga wasn’t pressed against him anymore.

“You can walk away if you want Suga.” Kuroo grinned after Suga, who was already diving into the fridge. “We know who he is and we’re not above enlightening the others.”

“Then, please, by all means.” Suga made a sweeping gesture with his hand, a challenge for them to do just that in his voice when he resurfaced from the depths of their fridge.

“Just to set the record straight here,” Akaashi interrupted calmly before anyone had the chance to enlighten them about Konoha. “Suga was the one who broke up with me.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kuroo said, and Bokuto and Akaashi shrugged in response.

“Back to this party you want to throw, Noya,” Suga brought the original topic back as he came back and leaned his arms on the back of the couch, behind Oikawa’s head. “Are you going to tell Tanaka why you’re dragging him to a bar or whatever that’s filled with all the single people we know?”

“Of course not,” Nishinoya scoffed lightly. “What would be the fun with that?”

“You know, it does sound fun,” Hanamaki commented. “We’ll help.”

“Great!” Nishinoya crowed. “I just have to figure out where to have it.”

“Not here,” Oikawa said at the same time with Suga.

“Now that you mention it, actually, this would be the perfect place.” Kuroo said as he looked around.

“Not here,” Suga said again, walking around the couch to sit back next to Oikawa.

“I think I will help out after all,” Bokuto nodded along with Kuroo.

Oikawa could already see how they were planning and scheming inside their heads.

“They keep speaking as if we’re not even here,” Oikawa grumbled with a whine when Suga was sat next to him and Hanamaki and Matsukawa had joined Kuroo and Bokuto in planning, throwing ideas and suggestions into the air, every single one more absurd than the one before it.

“I know,” Suga said softly placating, his hand gently brushing on his. “We can just not be here when they throw the party.”

Oikawa could tell Suga wanted to hold his hand from the way the touch lingered, but neither of them braved to do so in front of their friends.

“Sounds good,” Oikawa sighed and laid his head on Suga’s shoulder, lifting his feet up on the coffee table, wiggling his toes in his socks.  

“Suga-chan,” he whispered quietly then, his eyes following the unexpected white fluffy ball of feathers - the one he had originally thought he had hallucinated - waddling by the front door, peeking into their shoes, tail adorably swaying from side to side with every step. “Why is there a duck sniffing my trainers?”

 

 

...

 

 

The next day, Oikawa was again studying, revising, memorizing. He only had so much and so little time until The Day, and he was preparing as well as he could. If only he was let do so in peace would’ve been wonderful, he thought to himself when he heard a knock on the door.

He knew that Suga wasn’t home, the man had disappeared some time ago, who knows where. Suga really went and came as he pleased with minimal information of where, but it didn’t bother Oikawa. He knew that Suga had left with his camera, and was sure that Suga would come back at some point.

But knowing that Suga wasn’t home, he knew he needed to get up to answer the door. He did so with a heavy sigh, and dropped his book on the bed to be picked up later.

He wondered who it could be – not that many people knocked on their door – and inquired it from the duck that was sitting on their couch, in a spot that it had claimed almost the very same second that Suga had started calling it Princess Tutu Ahiru, without any knowledge whether it was a girl or a boy duck – not that they really cared which it was. “Do you think it’s Asahi?”

The duck didn’t answer him, and Oikawa couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed.  But he couldn’t have been more wrong about the knocker, for Hanamaki and Matsukawa stood on the other side of the door when he opened it, wearing matching smiles.

“What?” Oikawa asked, with deep distrust. It was very unusual for the couple to knock anymore, normally choosing to just waltz in as they had undoubtedly learned from Kuroo.

“We’re going out,” Hanamaki said cheerily.

“Okay,” Oikawa said slowly, wondering why the two of them had come to inform him of going out. “Have fun.”

Matsukawa chuckled. “You’re coming with us.”

“I doubt it,” Oikawa said with a meaningfully cocked eyebrow as he leaned his shoulder on the doorframe.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We have to celebrate that you’ve finally finished your thesis,” Hanamaki reasoned.

“I still have to prepare to defend it.”

“And what have you been doing the whole day?” Hanamaki asked knowingly and Oikawa sighed softly. “Yeah, exactly that,” Hanamaki stated and pushed Oikawa on the shoulder. “Go change into something else, we’re not going out with you if you’re dressed in your ratty joggers.”

“Fine,” Oikawa agreed easily. He had spent the last ten hours reading and reading and reading. He could do with a change of scenery, and since Suga wasn’t home, he could as well go out with his friends, as long as “You’re paying”.

“Fine, we’re paying,” Matsukawa agreed. “Now go. We’ll wait here.” He pulled Hanamaki by his hand to join the duck on the couch, while Oikawa went to change his clothes.

Five minutes later Oikawa was dressed and ready to go, to celebrate in whichever way his friends had planned for them to, deciding to trust in their judgement.

“Where are we going?” he asked as he threw his light jacket on.

“Wow, that was fast.” Hanamaki commented, getting up from the couch but bending down to give a few last pats on the ducks head.

“What?” Oikawa asked curiously, stuffing his feet into his shoes.

“You usually take longer to get ready when we go out.”

“Huh,” Oikawa wondered if that was true. And honestly, it probably was. It was mainly due to his new hairstyle – the ponytail saved a lot of time in fixing his hair to look presentable. “Maybe you just remember wrong,” he said with an impish grin when they filed out of the apartment, closing the door but leaving it unlocked.  

“Yeah, whatever,” Matsukawa chuckled. “We’re just going to eat. And just so you know, we have pretty big news too.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning your wedding.” Oikawa said with mock horror, stepping out into the light of the setting sun.

Hanamaki scoffed. “Right, because that’s the only thing that we’d possibly have going on in our lives.”

“What is it then?”

“We’ll tell you once we meet Iwaizumi. We want you both to hear it at the same time.”

Oikawa stopped walking. “Iwaizumi is coming too?”

“Yeah, of course. He’s our friend as well.” Hanamaki answered like it was obvious. And maybe it was obvious – they were a group of friends.

However, Oikawa was already thinking about going back inside. He did not want to see Iwaizumi. Not after how his alleged best friend’s boyfriend had treated him. Who knows if Daichi was coming too.

“What’s wrong?” Matsukawa seemed to pick up on his reluctance to walk any further.

“Nothing,” Oikawa answered, as flippantly as he could. He weighed the options he had – to tell Matsukawa and Hanamaki why he didn’t want to see Iwaizumi, or go with them and see Iwaizumi.

He decided the latter was better, not spending too much time on thinking why, and started to walk again.

“Let’s go,” he said with a cheery grin, probably overdoing it, but his friends seemed non-the-wiser about it as they smiled back as they continued along with him.

It wasn’t a long walk and they were in front of the ramen place they quite often frequented in no time. Iwaizumi was already there waiting for them, his hands casually in his jacket pockets.

“You’re late,” he said the moment they were in hearing distance.

“Blame Oikawa, we had to wait for him to get ready,” Hanamaki was quick to point a finger at him.

Oikawa gaped at Hanamaki – how dare he blame him when he had no idea that they were even going out.

“That figures,” Iwaizumi said dryly as he met his eyes with a dull look of nothing, as if he hadn’t been more than just a little rude just a couple of days earlier. Even though Iwaizumi had barely said anything then, every rude word mainly coming from Daichi, Oikawa still felt offended and wronged.  

He had already known this dinner was going to be everything else but fun or anything positive, and it seemed that Iwaizumi was proving he was right fast.

Things were made even worse when Hanamaki and Matsukawa decided to sit on the same side of the booth, which left Oikawa and Iwaizumi to sit next to each other.

Oikawa had never felt more trapped than he did then, sitting next to the window with Iwaizumi blocking his exit from the booth. He wondered whether Iwaizumi felt as trapped, if he had even known that it would be the four of them to have dinner together. Had Iwaizumi just ignored that fact? Had he just decided that it didn’t matter how he had treated his best friend, thought that he had done nothing wrong or anything to apologize for.

“So, what’s this news?” Iwaizumi asked when their waiter left, looking at the two on the other side of the table.

“Let’s wait for our drinks so we can salute for it,” Hanamaki replied with a happy grin, sharing a conspiratorial look with Matsukawa.

Oikawa couldn’t help the soft scoff that escaped from his lips and he ducked his head down in disbelief that his friends thought they were being subtle or sneaky. He already could guess – no, he knew – what they were on about if it wasn’t about their relationship.

“What?” Iwaizumi snapped with a frown.

Oikawa looked at him levelly, not letting his thoughts or feelings to show on his face, and blinked slowly. “Nothing,” he said casually. If Iwaizumi was going to pretend that there was nothing wrong between them, well then, he was going to do the same. But better.

“It’s always something with you. Just spit it out.” Iwaizumi sounded irritated – which was good in Oikawa’s opinion.

“It’s nothing,” Oikawa repeated as blankly as before and then pushed on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Let me out. I need to use the bathroom.”

Iwaizumi eyed him for a short second, but moved to let Oikawa out in the next.

 

...

 

“Why did he have to come?” Iwaizumi asked as he sat back down, his eyes on Oikawa’s back.  

“Because he’s our friend,” Hanamaki answered simply, but Matsukawa heard the slight frown in his voice.

And to tell the truth, he was a little mystified by his friends’ behavior as well. Oikawa and Iwaizumi had barely acknowledged each other.

“Did something happen with you two?” he asked carefully, paying attention to slight shifts in Iwaizumi’s expression and body talk, in the way Iwaizumi was leaning back, attempting to look casual but was probably just him trying to get as far from the conversation as possible.

“No,” Iwaizumi denied immediately.

Matsukawa sighed. “So, something happened.” He pushed himself up on his hands on the seat of the booth to sit up straighter. “What’s going on with you two?”

Iwaizumi shook his head, as if he was exasperated, and turned his head to look out the window. “He’s just being him, as per usual.”

“What do you mean?” Hanamaki asked, sounding worried now.

And why wouldn’t he be? It had been a nightmare on them when Oikawa had broken up with Iwaizumi. They didn’t want to stop hanging out with one of them, not wanting to write one of them out of their lives, and had worked hard to try and have Iwaizumi and Oikawa to at least be civil around and with each other. It had been hard, a very specific kind of hell, but somehow it had happened. Somehow Oikawa and Iwaizumi had worked through their individual issues of them being friends again and actually managed to do just that – be friends. But now it seemed like they had taken a thousand steps back, and were back where they had been three to four years ago when Oikawa had broken up with Iwaizumi.

Which, by the way, had been the biggest and the most upsetting news he or Hanamaki had ever heard.

It had taken them weeks to talk Iwaizumi and Oikawa into being in the same room, and another set of weeks to not to have them shout at each other the second they saw each other.

Hanamaki had mainly spoken to Oikawa, while Matsukawa had spent his time listening to Iwaizumi pour out his frustration and hurt. He had spent more time with Iwaizumi than he had with Hanamaki, and it had put a bit of a strain on their relationship at the time. But in all honesty, Iwaizumi had had the right to be upset with Oikawa, but it was especially concerning how aloof Oikawa had been about the break up. As if he hadn’t been affected at all. They all knew better though, and from there had stemmed most of Iwaizumi’s frustration.

“Nothing.” Iwaizumi shrugged nonchalantly, but it looked to jerky to be genuine.

“No, tell us,” Hanamaki told him, quite sternly. “We need to know if you two are planning to ruin everything again.”

“I wasn’t the one who started it the first time,” Iwaizumi snapped. “That was Oikawa.”

Matsukawa placed his hand on Hanamaki’s arm before he could reply. “Just tell us what’s going on,” he said to Iwaizumi in a softer voice, his eyes imploring him.

Iwaizumi sighed and rubbed his face with his hands as he leaned his head back. “He had a fight with Suga, and he was an asshole.”

“He had a fight with Suga?” Hanamaki was surprised and he looked to Matsukawa. “They didn’t seem like they had had a fight yesterday.”

“Yeah, they were as affectionate with each other as they’ve always been.” Matsukawa agreed with him.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, sounding given up. “Suga said they’re fine. But he still was an asshole for breaking Suga’s heart.”

“Do you know what they fought about?” Hanamaki asked curiously.

“No, but I guess you could ask him.” Iwaizumi gestured with his chin behind them, and there Oikawa was sitting back into the booth.

“What’s with the mood?” Oikawa picked up on it immediately, looking at everyone in turn.

“Iwaizumi said you had a fight with Suga.”

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi, the two of them locking into an eye contact that seemed to fill up the entire restaurant, and then he looked back to Hanamaki.

“We did, but I apologized. We’re okay now.”

Iwaizumi shot an incredulous look at Oikawa that was impossible to miss. Matsukawa wanted to ask about it. It wasn’t unheard of for Oikawa to apologize for the things he’d done or said that hurt others. Not unheard of, but rare. Still, what was with the look?

“Apologized?” Iwaizumi asked then, the same incredulity that was in his eyes coloring his voice. “You apologized?” he asked louder.

“Hajime,” Matsukawa warned him so he wouldn’t raise his voice louder and get them all kicked out of the restaurant. “Oikawa,” he turned to the other man on the other side of the booth, who was looking at Iwaizumi curiously. “Could you –“

Oikawa looked back to him immediately, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll go and check on our drinks,” he picked up on the cue and got up.

“I’ll help.” Hanamaki got up right after him.

Matsukawa looked after the two of them for a couple of seconds before he turned to address Iwaizumi. “What’s going on with you?”

“He apologized,” Iwaizumi answered as if it should’ve been obvious what he meant with it.

“What?”

“He said he apologized to Suga.”

Matsukawa was frowning now. “And? Why do you look like that? Isn’t it a good thing he apologized?” He shrugged, because he wasn’t getting it at all. “Isn’t it good that he apologized if he had been an asshole, like you said?”

“He never apologized to me. When he broke up with me, there were no apologies, nothing.”

Matsukawa looked across the restaurant where Oikawa and Hanamaki were leaning against the bar, conversing casually. He felt the slight urge to go to Oikawa and slap him for being so inconsiderate towards his best friend, but then again, as he considered the history of Oikawa and Iwaizumi...

“And now he says he’s apologized to Suga? I –“ Iwaizumi cut off with frustration.

“Hajime,” Matsukawa turned back slowly and spoke with a low and steady voice, using the man’s name to make sure he knew how serious he was being, how important it was to listen to him now. “It’s good that he apologized.”

“But he never apologized to me.”

“I know, now. And I get that you’re hurt because of that. It’s okay, you have the right to be. But I can’t let you ruin our celebration with another screaming match with Oikawa.”

“Are you on his side?” Iwaizumi sounded so incredulous it was a miracle his eyes weren’t popping out and so angry it was amazing his ears weren’t steaming like that off a cartoon characters.

“I’m on no one’s side. You know this. We’ve spoken about this before, many times over a number of years.”

Iwaizumi let out a short gust of breath, almost an angry sound coming from his nose.

“You know why he never apologized,” Matsukawa added meaningfully. And of course Iwaizumi knew. He must’ve known.

“He wouldn’t be walking if he’d continued playing volleyball.” Iwaizumi barked back at him darkly.

“You forced him to give up something he loved. Granted, no one knew he’d end up giving up everything else he loved along with it. But you’re the reason he quit volleyball.” Matsukawa tried to say it as kindly as possible – he didn’t want to accuse Iwaizumi of something that had ultimately been good.

“He’d be walking with a fucking cane now if he’d refused the surgery.” Iwaizumi stated the obvious.

Matsukawa knew Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly proud of talking Oikawa into quitting volleyball in favor of continuing to live healthily. But they had all known how important it had been to get Oikawa to accept the surgery. Iwaizumi had had Oikawa’s best in his mind when they had talked about it, at length.

Matsukawa also knew that he was right, no one could’ve guessed that Oikawa would practically stop living after he was forced to give up on volleyball. But it must’ve still stung Iwaizumi to know that Oikawa held him responsible for giving it up. He knew Oikawa blamed Iwaizumi, and was probably using that as an excuse to not apologize.

“I know that, and more importantly, _he_ knows that.” Matsukawa pressed the importance. “Is that what’s bothering you? He apologized to Suga but not to you?”

“I just...” Iwaizumi sighed again, his head turning to look towards the bar, something sad and yearning in his eyes. “Do you think he loves Suga more than he loved me?” he asked, uncharacteristically uncertainly.

Matsukawa wondered if it was true, if Oikawa loved Suga more. It was impossible to know, though, so he decided to say something else. “You two were younger when you were together than he is now, with Suga.”

“What does that mean?” Iwaizumi frowned.

“It means he’s matured.  He grew. And I think it happened when he injured his knee. I think he realized his own vulnerability, his mortality when he couldn’t play anymore.” Matsukawa stated, looking over to the bar as well, quickly before he turned back to Iwaizumi. “It’s good, isn’t it? Focus on that.”

Matsukawa felt his phone vibrate then, a short little rattle in his pocket, indicating a message.

 

_Can we come back?_

 

Matsukawa looked up from the message to the bar, where Hanamaki was looking back at him with the same question in his eyes. Oikawa was still leaning on the bar, his back to their booth.

Matsukawa took a look at Iwaizumi, who seemed less and less fumy with every breath. He looked back to Hanamaki then, deciding that it was okay for them to come back, and nodded.

Hanamaki smiled a little at that, nudged at Oikawa and gestured with his head for them to return.

“Can you be civil with Oikawa for the rest of the evening?” Matsukawa asked in a low voice as he replaced his phone to his pocket.

Iwaizumi nodded, but looked out the window when Oikawa and Hanamaki came back with their drinks.

“Can you tell us your news now?” Oikawa asked as he slid Iwaizumi’s drink in front of the man.

Iwaizumi took it eagerly and was quickly downing most of it. Everyone looked at him during his guzzling until he sighed like he had been parched and set the half empty glass back on the table.

Only then did Hanamaki talk, his voice happy and airy. “Mattsun quit his job.”

Matsukawa noticed the way Oikawa smirked. “How did you know?” he demanded to know.

“It was obvious,” Oikawa replied casually with a shrug, his hand swirling his drink with the straw. “You said it had nothing to do with your relationship, you two wouldn’t want to celebrate Mattsun getting a promotion, and if it was Makki who got a promotion, Mattsun would be already planning an elaborate party.”

Okay, Matsukawa had to agree, it was obvious.

“Do you already know what you’re going to do next?” Iwaizumi inquired, his voice low as he turned his glass around and around on the table.

“No, I’m still looking into different things, but most of all enjoying the freedom of spending my days as I please.”

“Well, good for you,” Oikawa saluted with a slight smile, as if he truly was happy for him, and took a sip of his drink.

“Thanks,” Matsukawa nodded his gratitude half-heartedly.

“But we’re not only here to celebrate Mattsun, we’re here also to celebrate you, Oikawa,” Hanamaki said, lifting his glass up. “For finishing your dissertation.”

“Wait, what the fuck?” Iwaizumi asked, sounding truly flabbergasted, his mouth opening and closing like a fish as he looked at Oikawa. At least his surprise overtook his anger.

Oikawa smirked again, quite victoriously. “Yeah, it’s finished.”

“When?” Iwaizumi demanded to know.

Oikawa shrugged.

“Are you telling me I’ve been sending you reminders to take a break for no reason whatsoever for the past days?” There was a foreboding growl in Iwaizumi’s voice that worried Matsukawa.

“Honestly, I’ve been ignoring them for weeks,” Oikawa said, far too casually and obviously trying to rile Iwaizumi up with it. “There’s this convenient ‘do not disturb’-setting on my phone.”

“What the hell, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked harshly. He was breathing hard, getting worked up all over again.

Oikawa didn’t seem to pay any mind to the changed atmosphere between him and Iwaizumi as he continued casually, as if he was purposely continuing to further irk Iwaizumi. “Blame Suga-chan. He’s the one who showed it to me.”  

“That’s beside the point, Oikawa, and you know it.” Iwaizumi was growing frustrated and loud again. Matsukawa gestured for him to lower his voice, but it was ignored. “I’ve been caring enough to remind you to take breaks so you don’t exhaust and overwork yourself, and you’ve been ignoring it? How could you do that?”

“Suga’s been far better at distracting me and pulling me from the books.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Iwaizumi practically shouted, and the murmurs of others in the restaurant grew eerily silent at once.

“You know what?” Oikawa asked harshly and pushed himself to stand. “I’m not going to stay to listen to this.”

“No!” Hanamaki grabbed Oikawa’s sleeve. “Don’t leave. We’re here to celebrate.”

“Can you two try and act like you can stand each other?” Matsukawa asked, looking from Oikawa to Iwaizumi and then back to Oikawa, silently begging them to set aside their fight for the night. It was fine if they didn’t want to get along with each other, but they could at least pretend for everyone’s sake.

Oikawa shrugged, looking expectantly at Iwaizumi, who crossed his arms in front of his chest in defiance, leaning back into the booth.

Matsukawa sighed. “Fine, Oikawa,” he said slowly and waited for him to look at him. “Iwaizumi wants you to apologize.”

There was an incredulous look on Oikawa’s face, and it was duplicated in his voice. “For what?”

“You know for what,” Iwaizumi answered.

“For breaking up with him,” Matsukawa cleared, just in case Oikawa didn’t know.

“He knows exactly why I’m not going to do that.” Oikawa bit back. “Besides, he’s the one who should be apologizing to me.”

“For what?” It was Iwaizumi’s turn to ask.

“You know exactly for what.” Oikawa said back, hard and demanding, crossing his arms in front of his chest as well, his eyes sharp and penetrating.

Matsukawa forced away the chills he got from witnessing the look – he didn’t even want to know what it was like to be looked at like that and he wondered how Iwaizumi could look straight back.

“If you mean the thing a couple of days ago,” Iwaizumi answered, a sneer in his voice. “That’s not going to happen,” he finished with a scoff.

“Okay, I’m going home,” Oikawa decided then and was quickly walking away with his long steps.

Hanamaki jumped up and ran after him, leaving Matsukawa to deal with hostile Iwaizumi. He could feel how silent the restaurant had become during Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s verbal match, and he was a little embarrassed, wanting to apologize to the wait staff for his rude and loud friends.

“Are you happy now?” he asked from Iwaizumi, hearing Hanamaki’s furthering pleas for Oikawa to stop and come back.

Iwaizumi only dropped his head back, as if he was exhausted.

 

...

 

“Oikawa, wait,” Hanamaki called after him, his hand already grabbing onto the back of Oikawa’s jacket to stop him right in front of the restaurant’s open front door. “You can’t go.”

“I’m not staying here with him.” Oikawa turned around to jerk his chin towards the general direction their booth was, and Hanamaki let go of his jacket.  

“But we’re here to celebrate.”

“I can’t do it with him, not when he’s like that.”

“Fine, that’s fine,” Hanamaki hurried to pacify. “You don’t have to stay here.”

“Great, I’m going home.” Oikawa turned around again and was outside on the street before Hanamaki had registered what he had said.

“No, wait!” He rushed after Oikawa again and ran around and in front of him to stop him from going further. “You don’t have to stay in the restaurant, but we’re going to celebrate. Just you and me. Let’s go somewhere, alright?” He tilted his head a little to find Oikawa’s eyes. “Just us two. We’ll leave Mattsun to deal with Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa seemed to deliberate for a moment, and then gave up with a sigh. “Fine,” he relented and uncrossed his arms. “As long as you’re still paying,” he said with a pleased grin, bordering on a smug smirk.

“Great,” Hanamaki beamed, ignoring the cockiness of Oikawa. “I know the perfect place.” He took Oikawa’s arm and turned him to steer him to the opposite direction of where he had been heading. “I can ask Suga if he wants to come too.”

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed with a slight nod, coming willingly with him.

Hanamaki sighed with relief, and hoped that Matsukawa got home okay after dealing with Iwaizumi. He really had wanted to celebrate Matsukawa’s freedom with their friends more than anything, but he could settle for a couple of drinks with a friend as well. It wouldn’t be the same, but it could be fun nonetheless.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga was sleeping on the couch when Oikawa got home. The TV was on, the only illumination in the room, and the endearing music of a Ghibli movie ending credits softly playing and filling the space. The evidence that Suga had been out ‘working’ out with the camera left on the coffee table, among the forgotten bingo cards.

Oikawa smiled softly at Suga, just watching the way he was breathing deep and slow, how utterly peaceful and relaxed he looked. It still caused him to be a little out of it as he thought of him and Suga _together_ , that they had somehow seamlessly transitioned – no, evolved – from their affectionate friendship into an actual relationship. How had it been so easy?

How was it so easy to just go over to the couch and kiss Suga on the cheek to gently wake him up? How was it so easy to climb over Suga as he stirred awake, blinking slowly and stretching a little? How was it so unbelievably effortless to settle between and over Suga’s legs, his arms propped beside Suga’s head and feel comfort and calm at the feeling of Suga’s heart beating against his chest?

“Hey,” Suga said softly as he recognized him. “You’re home late.”

Oikawa smiled and hummed, leaning down to kiss Suga.

“And you taste of alcohol, and smell of it too.”

“I know,” Oikawa sighed. “Sorry,” he said between little kisses he was leaving all over Suga’s face – on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead and chin, under his jaw. “Makki and Mattsun wanted to take me out to celebrate that I’m practically done with school.”

“And I wasn’t invited?”

Oikawa could tell Suga wasn’t upset from the warm smile, even though his tone was a little bit whiny.

“Makki said he did.”

Oikawa felt Suga stroking his cheek with his thumb and trailed his jaw with the fingertips as he spoke. “I did get a message from him about going out to drinks but I didn’t know what it was for. I figured you were practicing with Kuroo since you weren’t here when I came home and I wanted to wait for you.”

“Hmm,” Oikawa hummed softly and kissed Suga. “That’s sweet.”

Suga moved the hand that had been resting on Oikawa’s back down along the spine and slid it into his back pocket. “How do you feel now that you’re done with school?”

“I’m not done yet. I still have to go back to get my diploma.”

“You mean your participation certificate?” Suga asked with an amused grin.

Oikawa laughed, remembering how and when he had first heard his diploma to be referred as such. “Yes, exactly.”

Suga was smiling with so much it was impossible to pinpoint just one feeling, so Oikawa didn’t bother, preferring to concentrate on the way Suga’s fingers were still trailing back and forth along and under his chin. However, he saw how Suga’s smile turned softer, something shifting behind his eyes, as a new thought must’ve popped into his head.

“You’re going to have a master’s degree. That’s amazing,” Suga said with reverence.

Oikawa hummed in acknowledgement and kissed Suga, slowly, actually wanting to savor the feeling of Suga’s lips against his. “Want to go to bed?”

“Yes,” Suga breathed out, and Oikawa went back for another deep kiss, a more purposeful kiss, pressing even closer to Suga.

It was one of the most perfect things Oikawa knew in the world – kissing Suga. It could be more, though, he knew. And he wanted it to be more.

“Do you want it to be ‘one day’?” he asked, despite the plan he already had of taking Suga out on a date first. Call him old-fashioned, a tease, a coward, a whatever – but he really had taken Kuroo’s advice to his heart of doing things right and proper with Suga and asking him out before they got to the sex.

“More than anything,” Suga answered, breathing heavily as Oikawa kissed down his neck, leaving little nips that he knew wouldn’t last beyond the night and would be gone without anyone else’s knowledge that they had been there. “But –“ Suga stopped to whimper when Oikawa found the spot at the corner of his jaw.

“But?” he lifted his head up to ask and he brushed Suga’s hair off his forehead gently.

“But not,” a deep breath, “not when you’re drunk,” Suga managed through his gasps as Oikawa slowly ground down, teasing with it.

Oikawa was slowly becoming more and more drunk on the sounds Suga was making, on how responsive he was to _everything._ It was heady and consuming. Oikawa was in heaven and in hell at the same time. He was _living_ and dead at the same time.

“I want you to still remember it tomorrow morning,” Suga added.

“I’m not that drunk.” Oikawa protested lightly, but he could understand where Suga was coming from, what he meant. Honestly, he wouldn’t want to be sober either the first time they were about to have sex if Suga was drunk.

“Still,” Suga said, as if he was proving a point.

Oikawa nodded, getting it, but he never ceased the grinding down on Suga’s leg between his. “Do you still want to go to bed? You were sleeping.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Suga answered, but didn’t fight it when Oikawa leaned for another kiss.

And Oikawa made no move of actually getting up, preferring to keep making out with Suga, reveling in the sounds and sighs of mounting pleasure Suga was releasing into the non-existent space between their bodies.

“I thought you wanted to go to bed?” Suga asked when Oikawa went back leaving bruising kisses on his collarbones. The marks he had left that one morning had already fainted, and you could only tell there had been anything there if you knew that they had been there.

“I do,” Oikawa mumbled against his heated skin. He wasn’t against staying a bit longer on the couch though, and it would seem that Suga didn’t mind either, judging from the way he wrapped his legs around him as he lift his chin higher to give Oikawa more room to bite and suck on his collarbones, his fingers scratching on his back over the material of his light sweater.

They might’ve gotten hot and heavier with their making out, with every kiss and touch, if they’d had some sort of end goal in mind. But they didn’t – and that was actually amazing as well. For years Oikawa hadn’t enjoyed just kissing someone as much as he did with Suga, and he wasn’t about to stop if Suga wasn’t either.

“I think there’s something wrong with pairing this music with making out.” Suga whispered under his breath as he tangled his fingers into the loose strands that had fallen off of Oikawa’s ponytail.

Oikawa chuckled against Suga’s clavicle and lifted his head up to look at Suga and his breathless state, then at the TV where the menu screen was looping over and over again with Ponyo, and then back to Suga.

“Want to go to sleep?” he asked, seriously suggesting it this time, loving how he had managed to make a wreck and a mess with so little.

Suga nodded, but pulled Oikawa with his hand behind his neck to another languid kiss.

Oikawa was chuckling into the kiss one wonderful and never-ending moment, and scrambling off of Suga the next moment filled with panic and surprise. He was so quick in his movements as he heard the front door open that he fell off the couch with a yelp and a painful thud, his leg tangled with Suga’s on the couch.

His embarrassing fumble off the couch caused Suga to laugh and laugh uncontrollably, due to the hilariousness he found in it, no doubt.

 

...

 

“What’s so funny?” Yaku eyed them suspiciously, the slightest smirk and a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

“Nohting,” Suga managed to answer with a hiccup in middle of his laughter, while Oikawa was just as inconsolable on the floor, his laughter mixing in with Suga’s. Both of their nerves were shot and their brains short-circuiting because from the spook they experienced, afraid that they had just been found out.

“Right, okay,” Yaku kept looking at them. “I just came to get something to eat,” he said then, and made his way to the kitchen.

Suga kept laughing on the couch, tears in his eyes and his stomach aching. He could still hear Oikawa’s quiet laughter from the floor.

“Ow, Suga-chan,” Oikawa whined in pain in middle of his laughter.

Suga let out a giggle and rolled on his side to look over the edge of the couch to the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked with a smile, his hand caressing Oikawa’s cheek and running down along his neck to his shoulder.

“No,” Oikawa chuckled with his statement of the obvious state of his well-being, sulking a little.

Suga smiled down at him, while Oikawa pulled his leg from somewhere where it was tangled with his and groaned.

“We really need to start locking the door,” Oikawa said in a hushed and low voice then, rubbing his elbow. “I don’t like to bruise like this.”

“You’re the last one who came in through the door,” Suga pointed out lightly as he sat up, still smiling with the hilarity of Oikawa falling off the couch. He took great care of where he stepped so he didn’t step on Oikawa as he stood up. “Come on, it’s late,” he said as he offered his hand for Oikawa to pull him up.

“How long are you going to keep the duck?” Yaku asked then.

Suga let go off Oikawa’s hand the instant he was up and standing steadily and pushed him towards the hallway.

“Another day or two,” he answered to Yaku’s question, smiling back to Oikawa who looked over his shoulder at him. “Why?” he turned to Yaku to ask.

“Just wondering if you’ve already gotten attached to it,” Yaku said, his eyes downcast to the floor, probably to the duck that spent it’s days waddling around and around the apartment.

“He has,” Oikawa answered in raised voice from somewhere from the hallway.

Yaku looked towards the hallway and then to Suga. “What do you call it?”

“Princess Tutu Ahuri.”

“Wasn’t that the cartoon with the yellow duck?”

Suga nodded and made his way to the kitchen. “I didn’t want to call him anything obvious.”

“I thought you already had names for your ducks, though,” Yaku mused, his eyes following the feathered creature running around and around the island as if it was in on a race all by its lonesome.

“Yes, for ducks I’m going to get to keep. I can’t keep this one.”

“Ah, right,” Yaku nodded with his understanding as he went to the fridge. “Makes sense.”

Suga hummed in agreement and went to lean his hands on the island on the side of the living room. He observed Yaku for a while, and figured that this was the perfect moment to ask something from the unsuspecting man. He knew that Yaku didn’t know that he knew.

“So,” he dragged the syllable, biting down his knowing smile. “How’s Komi?” he asked as casually as possible.

The surprise was undeniable in Yaku’s expression, and Suga felt an absurd surge of accomplishment.

“How’d you know?”

“Noya.” Suga shrugged as it was obvious and leaned his folded arms on top of the island.

“Of course.” Yaku turned away for a moment as he went to put the last of the stir fry he had found into the microwave.

“How are you two?” Suga asked, lowkey dying to know.

Yaku took his time in answering, standing by the microwave, waiting for his food to heat. “It’s nothing yet,” he finally answered as he took the plate out and came back to the island.

“But do you want it to be?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure.” Yaku shrugged as he added this and that on his plate, making it more presentable with garnish so it didn’t just look like reheated leftovers. “He’s still a kid.”

Suga tilted his head, endearment at Yaku’s apparent nonchalance filling his voice. “He’s the same age as you.”

“A kid.”

Suga chuckled, amused. “It’s okay to admit that you like him.”

“I don’t really know what I think of him, or how I feel about him. I don’t really know him that well.”

“That’s what dating is for.”

“And some people take short cuts and live with them for months before they fall in love.” Yaku looked up to him from under his brows.

Suga frowned. He had a feeling Yaku had said what he said for a reason, but he wasn’t sure what he meant with it. “What?”  

“You’re not being as slick as you seem to think you are.” Yaku said so off-handedly it took a moment for Suga to realize _what_ he said.

“What?” Suga had to ask again, because surely Yaku didn’t mean –

Yaku fixed a pointed look at him. “Come on, Suga. I saw where Oikawa fell from.” He cast a quick look to the couch before his eyes returned to Suga with the same meaningfully pointed set. “Besides, your hair is a mess, your lips are swollen and there was definitely an oncoming tent in Oikawa’s pants.”

Suga was silent, not because he was shocked at his friend’s observations, but trying to think of the right words to say. He kept looking at Yaku, and Yaku looked back to him, waiting for Suga to say something.

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“So it’s a thing now? You and Oikawa?”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Suga repeated. “We want this to be just us for a little longer.”

“I get it,” Yaku nodded, finishing the presentation of his food, turning the plate on the island as he admired his handiwork. “I won’t tell anyone. But I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t know when you do tell everyone.”

“That’s fair, thank you Yaku.” Suga smiled gratefully, a little relieved. “But back to Komi,” he said excitedly, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. “I want to know about you two.”

“I already said there’s nothing to know.”

“There’s always something to know when it’s you. You never tell anything. Everyone thought for years that you and Lev were secretly dating because you never said anything certain, always so vague, so seemingly uncaring, too nonchalant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yaku frowned a little in the way that only he could. “Is this really coming from someone who was friends with benefits with Konoha for years and never told anyone anything, always smirking with your secret that only you two knew, teasing everyone with vague terms of “there’s nothing to tell”?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes, this is really coming from that someone,” Suga answered straight-faced and deadpan.

“Well, in that case I remain with my earlier statement that there’s nothing to know.”

“Fine,” Suga conceded, softly and with a smile, understanding that Yaku didn’t want to talk about it. “Have a good night,” he wished then with a wave and went after Oikawa to the hallway and his bedroom.

“Suga,” Yaku called after him, so he spun around in place by Kumamon, where the duck was making friends with it. “I’m happy for you.”

Suga smiled, happy himself as well. “Thank you.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mention of the Ghibli movie music only happened because I was listening to music on shuffle when I was writing. And then I realized as I was progressing to write OiSuga grinding on each other that there was music from Laputa playing, so I had to somehow break Suga and Oikawa from the moment of making out. So, enter Yaku.  
> Plus I wanted someone to know about them already. I really can't keep their secret a secret from anyone :O  
> Fascinating isn't it? (It's really not but I didn't want to leave the end notes empty, heh) 
> 
> (I'm going to leave _that one thing_ unmentioned... You know which thing I mean) *slinks behind the corner all shady and ominous like*
> 
> Anyhoo, (HOO!) 
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> * Akiko makes a comeback, sort of *  
> * OiSuga is trying to be fluffy *  
> * It's Kuroo's game day (Get excited everyone, he needs our support to win the game! Who knows what's riding on it) *


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drowning everyone with love and gratitude,  
> that's all.  
> Thank you for making me feel it's worth the time for me to write so many unnecessary fluffy moments
> 
> (Oh, and please forgive me for the possible typos. I was too tired due to too little sleep and didn't proofread as thoroughly as I should but I really wanted to update already)

 

 

Oikawa was leaning back to the counter, the coffee maker wafting the delicious smell of coffee right behind him, and he had preoccupied himself by observing Suga.

It was morning, and Oikawa was still a little anxious from last night, from the fright and a little bruised by the tumble he took down from the couch. But looking at Suga and how sleepy he still was, dressed in his pajamas and his hair rumpled by the pillow and sleep, eased the uncomfortable feeling inside Oikawa a little. Okay, a lot.

There was something utterly calming in watching Suga when it was just the two of them, when it was quiet and there was no hurry or need to be somewhere. Something that Oikawa had quickly come to appreciate in the time that they had been hiding their relationship from everyone, since they were so often interrupted. He knew the calm wouldn’t last much longer – the later it got, the surer it was that someone would come. They could lock the door, of course they could, but neither was fond of the idea of doing so. Unlocked door was a norm, it was what everyone expected, and continuously locking the door would cause for everyone to wonder about it, suspect it and them.

So, they kept the door open for their frequent visitors, with the full knowledge that someone would most likely come in at any time and disturb their precious time alone. It didn’t stop Oikawa from wishing that no one would disturb them.

Apparently whoever was calling Suga hadn’t heard his silent wish as it started ringing, the light vibrations causing it to rattle against the counter.

Oikawa looked at Suga expecting him to go for the phone, but it seemed that Suga was dutifully ignoring the device – he hadn’t even spared a glance towards his phone.

“Your phone is ringing,” he informed Suga and took a sip of his coffee.

“I know,” Suga replied, sounding a little distracted, maybe by his thoughts or because of the breakfast he was preparing.

Oikawa listened to the phone’s rattle for a second or two, watching Suga, before he glanced at the caller. 

“It’s your mother.” 

“I know. She has a designated ringtone.”

Oikawa frowned, confused. “Why don’t you answer?”

“Why don’t you answer?” Suga countered, smiling sweetly at him, as if he was trying to persuade him to do so.

Oikawa shot a lightly reprimanding look at Suga for not answering his mother’s call. “She’s not my mother, and she’s calling _you,_ on _your_ phone.” He picked up the phone and held it out towards Suga. “You should answer.”

“I don’t know about that.” Suga seemed to be considering whether to pick up or not, pursing his lips a little as he concentrated on making the perfect slices with the knife.  

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa berated lightly and waved the phone in front of his face so he’d have to react to it somehow, knowing Akiko would hang up any second now. “Answer it. It’s your mom.”  He leveled Suga with a look, telling him to just answer the damn phone. He tugged on Suga’s shirt to enforce a reaction.

With a soft sigh Suga put the knife down, brushed his hands on his pajama pants, and took the phone. “Hi, mom,” he answered softly, but contradicted it with showing his tongue at Oikawa.

Oikawa chuckled in response and pinched Suga’s cheek before he went to pour a second cup of coffee for himself with a pleased smile, ignoring the light slap he felt on his arm.

“Tooru is right here if you want to talk to him,” he heard Suga say to his mother and he shook his head with exasperation. What was it with Suga and his insistence that he liked Akiko more than he liked Suga? Or that Akiko favored him over her own son?

“No, it’s fine. I can talk.”

Oikawa watched Suga leave the kitchen, nodding in response as Suga gestured at the food he had been preparing, and went to continue where Suga had left off, putting his cup down and picking up the knife. He wondered what Suga and his mother were talking about, what could prompt Suga to leave his vicinity. What was so secret Suga didn’t want him to overhear it?

While Suga was gone, Oikawa finished their breakfast and set it down to wait for Suga. He contemplated upon pouring a third cup of coffee for himself, only hesitating on doing so knowing that Suga would probably have something to say about that.

“I’ll tell him,” he heard Suga’s voice carrying closer and closer and in no time Suga was emerging from the hallway. “Bye.”

“How’s your mom?” Oikawa asked when Suga hung up.

“She’s good.” Suga replaced his phone on the counter and came to him. “She just wanted to catch up and she knows she can easily reach me on mornings.”

“And yet you didn’t want to answer her,” Oikawa pointed out with a smile that followed a laughter at the face Suga made in response.

“She says hi, by the way,” Suga said then as he walked closer.

Oikawa felt Suga place his hands on his sides and saw him tiptoe just a little to give a soft kiss on his lips.

“Thank you.” Oikawa smiled when Suga stepped back. “Did you tell her?” 

Suga looked at him with questions in his eyes as he sat down where Oikawa had put a plate down for him. “About what?” he asked first, and then seemed to come to a conclusion of what Oikawa meant. “Us?”

Oikawa nodded once and sipped his coffee – he made the decision about the third cup – watching Suga over the brim of the cup.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Oikawa asked with a frown, sitting down next to Suga.

“Because she’s a gossip,” Suga simply answered with a smile, as if that was a proper reason for it.

“But Yaku knows.” Oikawa could still vividly remember the shock of slight panic he had experienced last night when Suga came to the bedroom, the one that was still making him a little jittery.

 

_“Yaku knows.” Suga had said casually, but Oikawa had shot up to sit in the bed._

_“What?” Oikawa could feel his heart beat wildly in his chest, which didn’t make any sense. Why was he suddenly so afraid that someone had found out about them? It shouldn’t be such a scary thought. Besides, Suga had only said that ‘Yaku knows’ but not what he knew._

_“Knows what?” he asked, already knowing what Suga would answer, knowing that it wouldn’t help in calming his heart._

_“About us.” Suga answered, as Oikawa knew he would, pulling his shirt off and replacing it with a t-shirt he used as a pajama. Oikawa was too shocked to register the temporary half-naked state of Suga._

_“Did you tell him?”_

_“He made an educated guess and I admitted that he was right.”_

_“Why’d you do that? Couldn’t you have lied?”_

_“I’m not going to lie about us.” Suga said calmly, smiling a little and it did alleviate Oikawa’s worry. “If someone makes a correct assumption because they’ve noticed something more than just a look, I’m not going to go out of my way to try and prove them wrong.”_

_Oikawa pondered on Suga’s words as he watched him change into his pajamas and come to the bed._

_“What did Yaku notice?” Oikawa wanted a good reason, some actual tangible proof that Suga was right to tell Yaku._

_“Your boner.” Suga smirked and came to kneel beside him while he sputtered. “And he caught us on the couch.”_

_Oikawa sighed, falling back on his back and threw his arm over his eyes. “Everyone’s going to know now.”_

_“I asked him not to tell anyone,” Suga said softly as his hand brushed on Oikawa’s arm._

_Oikawa lifted the said arm up from blocking his eyes. “And you believe he won’t?”_

_Suga nodded, still smiling softly, interlacing their fingers. “He’s good at keeping secrets, his and everyone else’s. It’s impossible to get them out of him. If he says he’s not going to tell anyone, he’s not going to tell anyone.”_

_“If you trust him I guess I can too,” Oikawa gave up, but his heart was still hammering against his chest. Was it natural for him to be this anxious of everyone finding out? Why was he so anxious? What was he so afraid of, really?_

Suga’s assurance had assuaged him a little and the sleep had helped. But the feeling of anxiousness was still running deep under the surface. It was impossible to see, but Oikawa sure felt the light tingles of it.

“Shouldn’t you tell her as well?” Oikawa asked, coming back to the present. “She’s your mom. She should know.”

“Why don’t you tell her?” Suga asked with a mischievous smile. He was taking this matter a little too lightly to Oikawa’s liking.

“She’s not my mother,” he pointed out again – how was it possible for Suga to seem to always forget that little, very important, thing. “Don’t you want her to know?”

Suga shook his head, turning a little on the chair to face straight ahead, a little away from him. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

Suga didn’t look at him when he answered. “If I tell her, everyone will know the next day.”

“Not if you ask her not to tell anyone.”

“I can’t ask that from her. Yaku yes, but not her.” Suga said quietly, shaking his head again but not in defiance but more as an affirmation that it’s something he truly and honestly can’t ask his mother to do. “I know her and I know she’s going to be really happy. She already loves you so much.”

Oikawa couldn’t help the little smile upon hearing that, while Suga continued.

“– and she’s going to want to gush with someone about it. If I ask her not to tell anyone, she’s just going to be sad. And I don’t want her to be sad.”

“Okay.” Oikawa brushed the back of his fingers over Suga’s cheek. “I get it.”

Suga smiled a little as he looked back at him, pressing softly against the fingers. “Thank you.”

“But you are going to tell her at some point, right?” Oikawa checked. “When everyone else knows?”

Suga shrugged, still smiling a little. “You could tell her as well.”

Oikawa resisted the urge to sigh but dropped his hand. “I think this is something that she should hear from you.” He narrowed his eyes as a thought came to him, something unpleasant he’d rather not think. “Why don’t you want to tell her about us? You didn’t tell her about Terushima either. Did she know about any of your boyfriends?”

Suga tilted his head a little, his expression open and kind. “Are you worried about something?”

The fact that Suga answered his question with a question didn’t help Oikawa feel any better. “I just don’t want to be a secret.” An errand thought of Iwaizumi and Daichi ran through his mind, of how he was afraid of ending up in a similar situation as Daichi if Suga didn’t tell his mother about them being together now. He really didn’t want to remain only a roommate as far as it came to Akiko knowing about them.

“You won’t, I promise.” Suga smiled fondly at him and placed his hand ever-so-gently on Oikawa’s cheek to reassure him. Oikawa had no doubt that Suga had guessed where his thoughts had gone to – of course Suga would know about Iwaizumi’s parents not knowing about Daichi. “You won’t. I’ll tell her. But you also have the option of telling her, if you want to.”

“Okay.” Oikawa was encouraged and smiled back as he placed his hand over Suga’s on his cheek. “Okay.”

The sweet moment they shared then and there didn’t last, and it filled Oikawa with annoyance to see Kuroo saunter in.

“Heya,” Kuroo greeted them, still wearing what must’ve been his pajamas.

“Hey, Kuroo,” they replied at the same time and Suga pulled his hand back.

“I’m starving,” Kuroo commented, already gathering himself a serving of breakfast.

“When aren’t you here when you’re starving?” Oikawa asked, observing the massive amount of food the man apparently had decided to stuff himself with.

“Is it my fault that Suga fills your kitchen with food with the sole intention of feeding his neighbors?” Kuroo asked back with a serious expression.

“Eat as much as you want Kuroo, I don’t mind.” Suga said.

“See?” Kuroo turned to Oikawa with a grin. “He doesn’t mind.”

“I didn’t say I minded either. I just posed a question.” Oikawa defended himself. His slightly dropped mood due to Kuroo’s interruption on them was lifted when he felt Suga place his hand on his thigh – out of Kuroo’s view of course.

Kuroo smiled back at him as he sat down opposite of them. “Your hair has really grown long,” he commented then – because apparently commenting on others’ appearances at the crack of dawn, or nine a.m., was something they did now – looking at Oikawa and his free hair.

Oikawa grinned over his cup to hide his annoyance. “I know.”

“It’s almost Asahi-long.”

“Asahi’s reaches beyond his shoulder blades,” Suga said, already finishing his plate.

“Oh, yeah, that’s true.”

“It does?” Oikawa asked, turning his head to look at Suga. He was surprised, to say the least. “It’s always in a bun so it’s impossible to tell.”

“He hasn’t cut it in a decade. I mean, he cuts the split and dry ends, but not more than that.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to grow my hair that long. I’m just keeping it like this until I decide what to do with it.” Oikawa wondered how he might look with hair that long and decided not to go that far.

“I like it like this, though.” Suga reached out to run a strand of Oikawa’s hair between his fingers, with the hand that didn’t occupy his thigh anymore, as if he forgot that they weren’t alone at the moment. Not that Oikawa minded – he liked how Suga seemed to have a certain fascination about his hair, or just about him. It was flattering and the best kind of boost for his self-confidence.  

Oikawa met Kuroo’s slightly suspiciously narrowed eyes looking between them and then looked back to Suga, taking his wrist in his hand. That seemed to snap Suga out of his reverie and he dropped his hand, turning to Kuroo.

“Do you want coffee, Kuroo?” he asked, already standing up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Kuroo said, sounding a little confused. Maybe it was due to what he just witnessed, or maybe it was because Suga offered to get him a cup of coffee. Usually breakfast included everyone getting everything they wanted themselves, there was no table service.

When Suga was back at the coffee maker, Kuroo kicked Oikawa into his shin. “You keep your hair long because you know that Suga likes it.”

Oikawa grimaced at the slight pain Kuroo’s kick caused, but tried to bite down his subsequent grin so he wasn’t so transparent. “So?”

“You’re unbelievable.” Kuroo shook his head, his overgrown bangs flopping a little with the movement. “What happened after you apologized?” he hissed.

“Nothing,” Oikawa said innocently and made a non-committal shrug. It was getting harder and harder to keep the happy grin away.

“You need to tell him you like him,” Kuroo kept hissing in a low voice so Suga didn’t hear. “The way you two look at each other –“ Kuroo cut off when Suga came back.

“What were you two whispering about?” he asked with innocent curiosity as he sat back down, sliding the steaming cup of coffee to Kuroo.

“Just gossiping,” Oikawa answered, knowing that Suga wouldn’t pry any further. It wouldn’t matter if Suga knew what they were whispering about, since Suga already knew that he liked him. But since they were keeping up appearances of ‘just friends’ in front of Kuroo, it was important to keep Suga from knowing, to fib a little. He could always explain it to Suga later.

“Ugh,” Suga proved him right with the flat out disapproval and a scrunched nose, and Oikawa smiled with victory.

“You’re so anti-gossip it’s hard to believe you’re gay,” Kuroo said deadpan. It was nothing new for anyone who knew Suga that the man didn’t like gossip.

“Are you saying I’m not a real gay until I gossip?” Suga raised a challenging eyebrow. “That’s stereotyping and I resent you for it.”

Oikawa chuckled with Kuroo, and soon Suga let out a breath of laughter as well, shaking his head a little as if he couldn’t believe he had decided to associate himself with them.

“Quack!”

They all turned towards the sound and saw the duck waddle into the kitchen. Where the flying-but-not-able-to-fly-at-the-moment-creature had come from or spent the night at, Oikawa had no idea.

“I should feed it.” Suga got up again. 

“How are you getting along with him?” Kuroo asked, watching the duck follow Suga around the island where they kept the food in the cardboard box and to the small space next to the fridge where Suga put down a little bowl.

“It’s a him?” Oikawa asked, finishing his breakfast with the last bite.

“I actually have no idea. Bokuto knows.”

“Hmm, well, we’ve been calling it Princess Tutu Ahiru –“

Kuroo snorted the coffee out of his nose and was coughing the rest as he fought with his laughter. To say that Oikawa was amused and delighted by Kuroo’s struggle would be an understatement. He was full on grinning about his friend inhaling the coffee, thinking that Kuroo deserved it for interrupting their slow and soft morning.

“You’ve been calling it what?” Kuroo asked with unabashed amusement and a hand in front of his mouth, maybe to cover his chin that was definitely dripping with coffee.

“Princess Tutu Ahiru,” Suga repeated the name as he came back.

“That’s perfect,” Kuroo croaked with a gasp as he still tried to get back to his normal rhythm of breathing in and out, accepting the paper napkin Suga held out for him.

Oikawa smiled, still pleased and amused by Kuroo’s reaction. “Oh we know,” he said into his coffee cup before he took a sip, feeling Suga lean a little into his shoulder when he sat back down next to him. He glanced to Suga, and saw him pull the hair tie from his wrist and offer it to him.

“Thanks,” he smiled softly, accepting the hair tie and quickly pulling his hair into a small high messy bun, combing the fly away stray strands framing his face behind his ears. He knew he needed to brush his hair at some point, but it was fine for now, especially with the way Suga was watching him, so soft and fond.

“Anyway,” Kuroo cleared his throat as he managed to blow the coffee out of his sinuses, “what do you guys have planned for today? Want to hang out?”

Oikawa shook his head a little, hooking his ankle with Suga’s under the table.  He was certain he didn’t imagine the small lift of the corners of Suga’s lips at the hidden touch. “I can’t, I have to go to the library today before someone checks out a book I need.”

“Suga?” Kuroo turned to him to ask. “Are you busy?”

“Don’t you have practice today?” Suga tilted his head a little to the side – such a cute little gesture that caused Oikawa to grin just from the utter adorableness. He tried to hide the grin behind his coffee cup.

“Yeah, but it’s not until later. I don’t really have anything to do before it.”

“Okay, I guess I can hang with you,” Suga agreed with a shrug.

“Don’t sound too excited about it,” Kuroo replied, which caused both of them to chuckle a little. It sometimes slipped Oikawa’s mind how long the two had been neighbors and friends, and little comments and moments like these always reminded him.

“Okay, I won’t.” Suga rested his chin in his hand. The bored, forced, look on his face caused Oikawa to chuckle, and soon Kuroo joined him.

“By the way, can I come to your next game?” Suga asked sweetly, almost too innocently, and maybe just that little overtly sugary tone of his voice was what made Kuroo narrow his eyes like a librarian would at a rowdy bunch of teenagers. And yes, before you ask, Oikawa was thinking of that one old librarian who must’ve lived in a felt slipper factory since he hated _all_ kinds of noise and was scowling at everyone and shushing them _all the time._ He was half convinced that the librarian imagined the voices and noise in his head, since he could barely hear a thing other than the low hum that silent bodies in an enclosed space created.

“No, you can’t come.” Kuroo said sternly.

“It was years ago, Kuroo,” Suga tried to persuade him, and Oikawa knew that a weaker being would’ve given in at the sight of his soft and pleading smile. He, however, continued to play footsy with Suga and follow the conversation, the pull and push of Kuroo and Suga.

“I still haven’t forgotten how we lost because of you.” It was clear how steely Kuroo was trying to be. Oikawa started to subconsciously count the seconds until Kuroo would give in.

“You don’t even remember what I said.”

“Heckled.” Kuroo corrected sharply. “You didn’t say a word, you _heckled._ And it lost us the game.”

Suga kept speaking in his soft voice, smiling kindly. “And I’ve apologized for four hundred and eighty-seven times.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow a little and turned his head fully to look at Suga. “That’s such a random number.”

“It’s accurate. I’ve counted.”

“Seriously?” Oikawa was filled with sudden and fascinated wonderment.

“Mm-hm,” Suga nodded a little, a ghost of a smile on his lips that revealed to Oikawa that he wasn’t completely serious about the number. But when Suga turned back to Kuroo, it was clear how sincere he was as he spoke. “I’m sorry for heckling, I shouldn’t have done it and I deeply regret my temporary insanity for acting so thoughtlessly. Can you forgive me? Can I please come and see your game?”

“No, you can’t come.” Kuroo replied, looking a little bored. Oikawa had a feeling he was only holding onto the not-forgiving for the fun of it now, not really needing a four hundredth and eighty-eighth apology.

“I guess I’ll just support you from home then.” Suga sounded a little resigned, and Oikawa wasn’t quite sure how much of it was faked, it sounded so sincere. “Again.”

Kuroo grinned at Suga. “Thank you,” he sang a little and the both smiled at each other.

Suddenly the kitchen was filled with soft atmosphere, outside of Oikawa.

“I feel like I need to give you two a moment,” Oikawa commented, not even bothering to hide his slight chagrin that Suga wasn’t giving him the same attention, the soft smile.  

“Oh, don’t get jealous, Oikawa,” Kuroo said lightly, flapping his hand. “I have a date with Tsukki tomorrow.”

But it was Suga’s smile when it was directed at him, paired with the sleepiness that was still clinging onto him that convinced Oikawa not to feel jealous.

“How’s that going?” Suga sounded as genuinely interested as Oikawa felt when he turned back to Kuroo.

Tsukishima was still a little bit of an enigma to Oikawa, hard to read, but he was getting there, slowly and surely. Maybe the slow progression of figuring Tsukishima out was due to the small time they had spent in the same room. Most he knew about Tsukishima, he had heard and learnt from Kuroo and not from spending time with the man himself.

“Really well,” Kuroo smiled a little, seeming contented as he sipped his coffee. “We’re actually really great.”

“It’s great to hear that,” Suga said and he sounded sincere as he said it. There was something shy in Kuroo’s following smile.

It was actually great to see Kuroo like that, happy and enamored. It was quickly replaced by his usual smile, though.

“Talking about Tsukki, I heard a little piece of gossip about Yamaguchi the other day.” Kuroo spoke casually, gazing down into the cup, and then lifted his eyes to Suga with a wicked, teasing grin. “Want to hear it?”

“No,” Suga scoffed. “If Yamaguchi wants me to know something he’ll tell me himself.”

“Alright,” Kuroo chuckled a little and leaned back. “You’re such an odd duck, Suga,” he made a sudden observation then, that really seemed to have come out of nowhere. Wonder what prompted it?  

Somewhere in the background the duck quacked.

“Yes, I know,” Suga said as if it was a cross to bear, but leaned back looking as relaxed as he could, his foot still tangled with Oikawa’s.

Oikawa glanced at Suga, wanting nothing more than to kiss him, the world be damned if anyone saw them or had anything against it. He didn’t even care that Kuroo could see the way he was looking at Suga. Kuroo already knew how he felt about Suga. It was just the agreement that he had with Suga that kept him from leaning closer.

 

 

 

However, if Oikawa or Suga had been able to read Kuroo’s thoughts, they would’ve been able to hear his confusion, because he knew exactly what they were doing under the table, which baffled him to no end. It was nothing new for them to be touchy with each other, and it wasn’t why Kuroo was so befuddled. No, that stemmed from his knowledge that the two liked each other but still insisted that they were only roommates, only friends. What he couldn’t understand was why the two were taking so long to confess to each other, and it was driving him crazy.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

Suga had curled on his side on his bed for a little _siesta,_ not because he was tired or needed sleep, but because he had nothing else to do. And he felt like napping a little before Kuroo’s game.

The apartment was empty, save for him and Princess Tutu Ahiru. The duck was on an extended leave in their apartment since it hadn’t healed enough yet to be ready to return to the zoo. Suga didn’t mind, even though he knew Oikawa wasn’t exactly happy about the extra commotion the duck was responsible for when he was trying to study, even if Oikawa didn’t say it out loud. Somehow Suga could just tell.

At that moment the duck was quiet, probably sleeping somewhere like Suga was, and it wasn’t the reason why his nap was disturbed.

He felt a light touch on his ankle, but he didn’t react to it right away, not until he felt the touch encircle his ankle and pull his leg straight.

“I’m sleeping,” he mumbled to the disturbed, already knowing who it was so he didn’t resist the repositioning of his limbs when his other leg was straightened as well.

He recognized the familiar low hum and the voice, “I know.” At the same time the bed dipped a little on both sides of him and he felt a warmth hover over him as he was rolled on his back.

He cracked his eyes open just a sliver. “I _was_ sleeping,” he corrected himself and sighed at the change of position while Oikawa settled to hover over him on all fours, too far away from Suga’s body in his opinion.

“Hi,” Oikawa said softly, and brushed his nose against Suga’s so impossibly fondly Suga was sure he could melt.

“Hi,” he said back just as softly, smiling until Oikawa kissed him. The press of their lips was light before Oikawa’s moved to his cheek and chin and down his neck.

“What do you want, Tooru?” Suga smiled a little and angled his head to the side.

“You,” Oikawa whispered in his ear.

Suga pressed his eyes shut and curled his toes at the feel and sound of the word. He shifted a little under Oikawa and brought his hand to his nape to kiss him. Oikawa slowly lowered his body to gently press against Suga’s, as he had wished Oikawa would do.

“Do you remember when I asked if you wanted it to be ‘one day’ and you said no because I was drunk?” Oikawa broke the kiss to ask in a deep husky voice, a voice that Suga had never heard him use before.

He wondered for a moment where Oikawa had been hiding that voice, and if that had been on purpose if the man was aware what he could do with it.

Suga nodded in answer, though, trying not to think too much of the implications of Oikawa’s question and his answer before.

“Do you want it to be today?”

Suga opened his eyes to look at Oikawa, to see if he was serious, and his expression really did say it all – the seriousness, the fondness, the want.

“Please tell me you’re being serious,” he asked in a whisper of his own, a little afraid to really voice his hope of it, just in case Oikawa wasn’t proposing what he thought. They had been tiptoeing on the matter for a couple of days now and Suga was more and more tense with anticipation at the thought that _“maybe today is the day, maybe tonight is the night”,_ wanting nothing more and everything else less and less.

Oikawa smiled a little, a seductive air in it that somehow managed to give Suga very violent butterflies to overtake his whole body, fluttering not only in his stomach but also his heart, his lungs, his fingers and toes. To top it off, with the way Oikawa kissed him next, Suga let the feeling overtake him, quite sure now that what Oikawa was suggesting for was for it to be one day, finally.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Suga chanted in a whisper against Oikawa’s lips and slipped his hand under Oikawa’s shirt, while Oikawa skillfully rolled his hips against Suga’s.

Oikawa chuckled into the kiss, maybe delighted and amused of Suga’s eagerness, but Suga didn’t mind, not until Oikawa spoke.

“Not yet, though.”

Suga stopped what he was doing with a sigh and lifted his gaze to the ceiling, dropping his hands on the bed. “Not yet, he says,” he said to the ceiling and looked back to Oikawa as he continued. “My dick is going to shrivel, die like a wilted flower and then fall off because of unuse. Then what will I do?”

Oikawa dropped his head on Suga’s shoulder, his shoulders shaking with his chuckles, and lift his head up with a sigh of his own as he sobered. “I doubt that’ll happen. But if it does, you could always bottom,” he suggested casually.

“That doesn’t sound as fun.”

Oikawa cocked his eyebrow. “You like to switch?”

Suga let out a light scoff. “Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Oikawa smirked at that and dipped his head down to give Suga a breathless kiss, grinding down a little.

It caused an involuntary gasp to escape from Suga and he gripped Oikawa’s sides to stop him. “Stop that if it’s not one day yet.”

Oikawa smirked like he was the most delicious sin in the world and, probably just for the hell of it rolled his hips down again.

“Seriously,” Suga gasped.

Oikawa chuckled again, absolutely and without any doubt completely aware of what he was doing and what it might cause. Not that Suga minded, though.

“You said ‘not yet’,” Suga remembered then as Oikawa was about to kiss him again. He placed his hand on Oikawa’s cheek, both to keep him from kissing so he could catch his breath and to keep in touch. “Are you planning something?”

Oikawa hummed, his eyes on Suga’s lips. “Tonight.”

“Is Kuroo’s game.”

Oikawa’s eyes locked with Suga’s. “Do you want to go out and eat after?”

Suga thought about it for a moment, what he was actually asking. “Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date,” Oikawa confirmed.

Suga’s smile grew a little and he bit on his bottom lip to try and contain it. “Sounds good.”

“Good,” Oikawa agreed with a nod and kissed him again. “But now I’m going to nap with you.” He took his glasses off and reached over to the bedside table to place them there in safety before he lowered a little and rested his head on Suga’s chest.

Suga wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s shoulders to keep him close, and reveled in feeling Oikawa’s body pressed against his, all the while trying to calm down from the excitement, the rollercoaster, he just experienced. It was an understatement to say that he was already looking forward for that night as his fingers found their way to play with Oikawa’s ponytail.

“Prepare for the best sex you’ve ever had,” Oikawa mumbled a little, his cheek pressed against Suga’s chest.

Suga laughed lightly. “That good?”

“That good,” Oikawa said resolutely, nodding to confirm.

“That’s promising a lot,” Suga mused.

“I’ll deliver.”

Suga stifled the laughter that threatened to erupt. “It would be so easy to make a bad porn pun about that.”

Oikawa laughed, his whole body moving with it against Suga’s. He lifted his head up from Suga’s chest, propping his weight on his forearms.

“Honestly, Tooru,” Suga said softly, gazing into Oikawa’s eyes. “I don’t need it to be mind-blowing on the first time, or the best sex I’ve ever had. Realistically it’s not going to be since it’s our first time together. I just want both of us to feel good. I want you to really enjoy it too without feeling any pressure to perform.”

Oikawa seemed to think about what he said, his eyes searching idly over Suga’s face.

“It’ll be the best first you’ve had with anyone,” he stated confidently then, with an air of smugness in him.

Suga smiled softly. “I can’t wait.” He kept playing with Oikawa’s hair, brushing the fallen strands behind his ears, cupping his cheek to bring him into a tender kiss.

“How was your day?” Suga asked when he felt they couldn’t linger any longer on the sweet kiss.

“It was good,” Oikawa answered and proceeded to leave little kisses, just soft presses here and there, on Suga’s face and neck, on his collarbones. “Missed you a little.”

Suga was pleased, having missed Oikawa a little as well. But his enjoyment was shadowed by Oikawa’s seeming hesitance as the man fell into his thoughts.

Suga wasn’t in any hurry, not yet anyway, and had nothing against waiting. He knew Oikawa had come to some sort of decision on what must’ve been going on in his head when he heard Oikawa let out a small sigh, just a light brush of air from his nose.

“I met Kageyama,” he spoke quietly.

“Really?” Suga asked with a smile, his fingers now twirling with the stray hairs that had fallen from the ponytail. “How was he?” He was honestly interested to know, having felt bad for the man initially the first, well technically second time, that they met and the man had run out of their apartment like he was on fire.

“Alright, I guess. I think he was waiting for his date.”

Suga smiled gently, wondering, “How could you tell?”

“He was dressed in jeans,” Oikawa said as if it was obvious.

“You think jeans mean a date?”

“It does with him. He never wore anything but college pants when we...” Oikawa trailed off, letting the end of his sentence fall into silence. Like that would cause for the sentence to never have been started or voiced out loud.

But Suga’s smile still widened a little as he finished the sentence in his own head, having a pretty good gut feeling of what Oikawa was about to say. “Maybe it was the guy from the movies that one time?” He didn’t want to dwell on what Oikawa had been saying. It would just be waste of time and words and air.

“Maybe,” Oikawa said slowly, considering the possibility. “Doesn’t matter, though.” He made a non-committal shrug, and with that the matter was brushed off. “We can talk about something else.”

“Or we could nap?” Suga suggested.

“Nap sounds good,” Oikawa agreed with him and swooped in for a quick kiss before he relaxed to lie on and pressed to his side.

Suga wrapped his arms around Oikawa again, as best he could with the way Oikawa was draped to his side like a lazy sloth, his leg over Suga’s. As if he was snuggled to a stuffed animal. The image made Suga smile and he squeezed Oikawa as he closed his eyes.

He couldn’t fall asleep, though, not even to nod off for a moment, when he felt Oikawa slip his hand under his shirt, his warm palm against his skin, his fingertips brushing on Suga’s ribs.

“Tooru,” Suga said slowly, in a voice barely over a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Tickles,” Suga explained simply, thinking that Oikawa would stop.

Of course he was wrong because Oikawa was a dork who couldn’t and wouldn’t miss the opportunity to tickle him. It was subtle first, the slight patter of his fingertips over Suga’s ribs, that grew into something Suga’s senses couldn’t ignore anymore, all the while Oikawa calmly rested his head on Suga’s chest like he wasn’t doing anything.

In a matter of seconds Suga was laughing at the sensation feeling and then trying to roll away from it, from Oikawa, who was laughing as well. He couldn’t push Oikawa’s arm away or his hand from under his shirt, too overcome by the laughter as he was, simply trying to roll away from the tickling.

“Stop,” Suga whined with laughter, threatening to fall off the bed, Oikawa following him rolling away, attacking new places to tickle him from.

“Stop or you’re not getting any sex tonight,” Suga gasped to say, all of it in a hurried breath. But it did seem to do the trick as Oikawa’s hands – when did he slip the other one under the shirt as well – steadied and slightly pressed down on Suga’s skin.

“That was easy,” Suga couldn’t help but comment at the sudden end of the tickling. He was still breathless from the laughing and the tickling, though, taking deep breaths.

“You told me to stop.”

“And you didn’t until I threatened no sex.”

Oikawa smirked in response and pulled Suga from the edge of the bed. He brushed Suga’s hair back from his forehead and kissed him softly. “Well, I really would like to have sex with you.”

“Then maybe don’t tickle me?” Suga suggested softly. He didn’t hate the tickling. In full honesty, he rather liked it when Oikawa was so hands on with him. Not that he’d admit that to Oikawa. He had a feeling he would be relentlessly tickled and teased about it if Oikawa knew he enjoyed it that much.

“I just love your laugh, that’s why I tickled you.”

“You love my laugh?” Suga asked, surprised by the confession.

Oikawa nodded and kissed him again. “It makes me happy to hear it, so I love hearing it.” Oikawa spoke as if it was simple as that, but the words meant much more to Suga, who was practically swooning.

“You love my laugh?” he asked again in a quiet voice, eyes wide as he looked up to Oikawa.

“Yes,” Oikawa chuckled. “Why are you so surprised?”

“I don’t know.” Suga whispered. “I just am.”

“Hm, silly,” Oikawa mused and brushed his thumb over Suga’s lower lip before he kissed him, way too softly for Suga to continue breathing normally.

“Anyone home?” someone, who suspiciously sounded like Hanamaki, called.  

“No!” Oikawa broke the kiss to call back.

Suga let out a light and amused snort and smacked Oikawa’s arm. “Now he’s going to come here.”

“It was a reflex,” Oikawa defended with a pout.

Suga was too amused to really mind, chuckling softly under Oikawa’s body, feeling particularly delighted of the little kisses and pecks Oikawa continued leaving down his neck, as if they both didn’t know that Hanamaki was most likely going to come into the room in a matter of a few seconds. At least the room door was closed, and Suga was grateful of Oikawa’s foresight to close it when he came.

“Guys?” Hanamaki’s voice was closer now, definitely in the hallway.

“Don’t come in!” Suga hurriedly warned him, while Oikawa lifted his head up. They were in a _quite_ compromising position, what with Oikawa lying between his legs, while he had wrapped his legs around Oikawa while they had kissed so he wouldn’t run off.

“Why?” Hanamaki sounded wary on the other side of the door. “What are you doing?” His voice got suspicious.

Oikawa smirked, propping himself up on his elbows.

“We’re doing nothing,” Suga answered, but Oikawa had a word or two to add to that.

“Suga-chan isn’t dressed.”

Suga’s eyes widened with shock and he smacked Oikawa on his arm again. Oikawa only rolled off of him, silently laughing, completely in stiches, holding his stomach with his arm and his hand over his mouth so his laughter wasn’t audible to Hanamaki.

“Why isn’t Suga dressed?”

Suga could imagine Hanamaki’s confused expression just from his muffled voice, and even clearer image was the narrowed eyes that his suspicious voice must’ve been accompanied with.

“What are you doing?” Hanamaki asked.

Suga sat up and grabbed a pillow to hit Oikawa with it, who was still laughing like there was no tomorrow. Suga only shook his head at his – boyfriend? – he pushed the errand thought out his head as quickly as possible and hit Oikawa again with the pillow for good measure, leaving it on Oikawa’s face.

“Nothing, just a sec,” Suga replied to Hanamaki when the man knocked on the door. Oikawa pulled the pillow down from his face and hugged it to muffle his laughter in it, looking at Suga with pure joy.

“You’re unbelievable,” Suga whispered to him and got up from the bed. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining to Hanamaki why he would be undressed in the same room with Oikawa. He had to come up with an excuse, something plausible and easy to believe, and he was sure he had never thought as quickly as he did when he went to open the door.

“What’s up?” he asked casually when he was faced with Hanamaki’s confused frown and widened eyes, and smoothed down his hair that he knew was most likely disheveled from his previous nap and make out with Oikawa, but knew that the casual combing of his fingers through his hair could be passed off with him straightening out his hair from a wardrobe change. At least he hoped so. 

“What were you two doing?” Hanamaki asked for the third time, looking Suga from toes to head and then glancing at Oikawa who was lounging in a _very_ relaxed position on the bed, the pillow now under his arm as he had propped himself on his elbow.

“I was changing my clothes for the game when Oikawa just came in and lay down on my bed like he owns it.” Suga answered, lacing his voice with irritation to sell it, leaning his hand to the door.

Hanamaki raised his eyebrows, looking at Oikawa. “Is that normal?” He looked back to Suga.

“Lately, he’s been doing that from time to time,” Suga spoke slowly, as if he was thinking back to previous occurrences like that. “I’m afraid he’s been developing peeping tom tendencies and I’m trying to come up with a subtle way to get rid of him that doesn’t land my ass in jail.” He ended with a casual tone, as if he was completely casual about talking about committing a premeditated murder.

“I’m not a peeping tom!” Oikawa shot up to sit, with a smirk, and threw the pillow he had been hugging possessively at Suga, with impressive accuracy if he really did aim for Suga’s ass. “You can’t see into your closet from the bed anyway,” Oikawa added, as if he was imparting information like he was giving someone instructions from point A to a point B, as he scooted to the foot of the bed in a sitting position.

“And you know that because you’ve tried to look?” Suga asked with a cocked eyebrow, looking back expectantly, to pay back for the undressed comment with interest. He bent down to pick up the pillow and threw it back at Oikawa, who caught it smoothly.

Oikawa stood up with the pillow but dropped it haphazardly back on the bed as he walked closer to the door, his face neutral but eyes locked with Suga. He wasn’t saying anything though, and it spoke loudly and clearly that he _had_ looked. Suga couldn’t help but wonder, with a small smile, when that had happened.

“What’s up Makki?” Oikawa broke their eye contact to address his friend, who was looking between them with a bemused expression, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing but still finding it all extremely amusing.

“I was just wondering if we could watch something here,” Hanamaki said, his eyes still sawing between them.

“Of course,” Suga replied lightly, pushing Hanamaki on his shoulder on the move to the living room. “I think you’re the first one to ask. Usually everyone just comes and stays.”

Hanamaki let out a light laugh at that – which wasn’t a surprise since it was probably easy for him to imagine happening in their building, knowing their neighbors.

“What are you planning to watch?” Suga asked then, his breath hitching a little when Oikawa clung onto him, wrapping his arms around Suga’s shoulders from behind as they walked.

“One piece,” Hanamaki answered, not seeing how Oikawa had plastered himself on Suga’s back as he was walking a couple of paces ahead of them.  

Suga heard Oikawa chuckle at that, a breath of air tickling his ear, and it caused a corresponding smile to break out on his face. “You already know every episode by heart.”

“Doesn’t mean we’ve seen them enough,” Hanamaki defended.  

“It’s yours as long as you need it,” Suga motioned to the living room and Hanamaki zoomed straight there, Oikawa disentangling himself from Suga’s back.  

“Do you want to watch with us?” Hanamaki offered, very politely, which made Suga smile as he made his way to the kitchen, while Oikawa hang back in the living room with Hanamaki.

“We’re not going to be here,” Oikawa answered like it really wasn’t big deal or an inconvenience as he gently leaned against the head of Kumamon.

“Oh? Where are you going?” Hanamaki sounded a little distracted when he asked, already looking relaxed and settled in on a couch for an evening of something he enjoyed.  

“Kuroo’s game,” Oikawa answered, still in the same calm, indifferent voice.

But Hanamaki clearly didn’t think it was that unimportant as his head snapped up. “Volleyball?” he asked first from Oikawa, but his eyes moved to Suga with worry.

Suga put down the glass he had picked up to drink some water, catching the worry. “Tooru,” he said before he confirmed Hanamaki’s guess. “Could you do me a favor and get me a hoodie from my room? It’s on the back of my chair.”

Oikawa turned his head to look over his shoulder at him with an amused expression. “Why don’t you go?”

“Your legs are longer than mine so you don’t need to take as many steps,” Suga answered with a playful smile.

Oikawa chuckled at that but turned around towards the hallway. “That’s such a bullshit excuse,” he said with amusement. “But fine,” he elongated the ‘fine’ in a sing song voice and disappeared down the hallway. Suga watched him go, while Hanamaki came to stand across from him on the other side of the island, planting his hands firmly down on it.  

“You’re going to a volleyball game with him?” he asked urgently, the worry heavy in his voice now.

Suga nodded, just a small motion and glanced towards the hallway to make sure Oikawa didn’t linger there. “It was his idea,” he told Hanamaki.

“He hasn’t been to a game since his injury.” Hanamaki whispered, eyes wide and serious. “He always insists that he can’t watch a game when he can’t play.”

“I know, but he says he’s fine,” Suga spoke softly, knowing about Oikawa’s previous reluctance and outright refusal to go to a game. “He was even practicing with Kuroo just the other day.”

Hanamaki was taken aback, leaning back a little. “Really?”

“Isn’t it a good sign that he wants to go to a game?” Suga asked, matching his hushed voice with Hanamaki’s. “Maybe he’s over the hurt and resentment for the sport.”

Hanamaki wasn’t answering, and that bothered Suga.

“Yeah, maybe,” Hanamaki finally said, but he didn’t sound like he meant it at all.

“I feel like you’re not telling me something,” Suga said hurriedly, knowing that Oikawa would be back any minute to witness and possibly even hear their whispers.

“No, I’m sure you’re right,” Hanamaki said, shaking his head a little. Suga didn’t know how to interpret it.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded to know again, speaking as softly as possible, his eyes wide with desperation, he was sure. He had a feeling this was something important, something he should know.

But Hanamaki kept with his earlier stance of not revealing anything. “Nothing, Suga.” He hurried to whisper. “Just –“ he broke off for a moment when they heard Oikawa’s light steps, the almost inaudible swish of his socks against the floor. “Just look after him, okay. Keep a sharp eye on him.”

“Of course,” Suga nodded seriously – it was obvious and went without saying.

“Here you are,” Oikawa said grandly as he came back and draped the hoodie over Suga’s shoulders, leaving his hands on Suga’s shoulders for a moment. “Wasn’t I nice in getting it for you?”

“Yes, thank you,” Suga smiled softly back, the worry from Hanamaki affecting him a little. He hoped that Oikawa wouldn’t notice it.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to go to Kuroo’s game,” Hanamaki said then, diffusing the lingering worry that was still in the air, between them.

“How’d you know about that?” Oikawa asked, leaning his crossed arms on the island next to Suga, his hip brushing on Suga’s.

Hanamaki shrugged. “Kuroo likes to talk about it.”

Suga rolled his eyes. “Of course he does,” he said in a low murmur and then added in a clearer voice. “He doesn’t even remember exactly why he initially forbade me from coming.”

“How are you going to keep him from recognizing you in the stands?”

“A disguise,” Suga gave the easy solution, undraped the hoodie and left it in a messy bundle on the island as he went to fetch the bag he had left on the armchair the other day. “I’m going to wear a mustache.”

“You’re going to grow a mustache in the next thirty minutes?” Oikawa asked, resting his chin in his hand now, looking with intensity – that must’ve remained from their earlier ‘nap’ – at Suga when he turned back to the kitchen.

“No, a fake mustache.” Suga pulled the item from his bag and held it in place over his top lip.

Oikawa cracked into laughter first, his head hanging low between his shoulders, Hanamaki following him with a light laughter of his own.

“That’s perfect,” Oikawa offered his opinion on the ginger handlebar mustache when he looked back up. “But you still look like yourself.”

“You know, you could have just put a mask on and some shades,” Hanamaki suggested with a shrug, still chuckling a little.

“That’s not as fun,” Suga disagreed with a smile and Oikawa chuckled in response, smiling wider than Suga had ever seen.

“Plus,” he continued with his disguise plan. “I’m also going to put on the cap that Akaashi and Bokuto left here a while back and then pull the hood over my head. The hoodie is big enough to swallow me and make me look bigger than I am.”

“Can’t wait to see the end product,” Oikawa mused in a lower voice than his usual register was.

“You’re going to fall in love with me,” Suga said confidently, putting the fake mustache down on the counter. When he looked up, Oikawa was already smiling sweetly at him, not able to say or do anything when Hanamaki was right there.

However, maybe it was good that Hanamaki was there to stop a moment forming between them. “You two are ridiculous,” he stated, his tone amused.

“I’m going to go get ready as well.” Oikawa straightened from the island and was on his way to his room. “Have fun with One Piece,” he said over his shoulder at Hanamaki before he disappeared from sight again.

Hanamaki showed his tongue at Oikawa’s back. “I’m going to go grab Mattsun,” he turned to Suga to say then. “If you’re gone when we come back –“

“The door is always open,” Suga said before he could finish his sentence.

Hanamaki nodded with a grateful smile. “Thanks.” He had already taken a step towards the front door but turned suddenly back.

“I know he says he’s fine, but look after him. It’s still going to be a hard place for him to be, to see and experience the excitement and adrenaline of the game.”

“I know, I’ll take care of him,” Suga said softly, fully meaning it.

There was a small smile on Hanamaki’s lips in response. “You’re too good for him.” And with that he exited the apartment.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

“Where do you want to sit?” Suga asked as they stepped inside the gym.

“As far away from the court as possible,” Oikawa answered, already climbing up the stairs. He needed to be as far from it as possible, seriously.

“So you don’t run there?” Suga’s tone hinted at a joke, but there was a smidgen of a serious question too.

Oikawa decided to answer seriously, not really feeling like joking at the moment. He was too nervous, too anxious to take anything lightly. “Exactly.”

Suga was quiet for a moment, just following up a couple of more steps.

“Are you sure you can make it to the top?” he asked carefully, worry in his voice now.

Oikawa glanced back over his shoulder. “Is that a jab on my age?”

“I was wondering about your knee,” Suga said softly.

“My knee is fine,” Oikawa sighed and continued on.

“You’re still limping.”

“It’s fine, Suga-chan,” Oikawa repeated just as they reached the top row. “You don’t need to worry about it.” He looked at Suga follow him a couple of seats in so they were in middle of the row.

“I know, but I’m allowed to, aren’t I?” Suga asked with a small smile, more in his eyes than on his lips.

“I can’t tell you ‘no’, can I?”

Suga’s smile grew a little as he shook his head in answer.

Oikawa sighed as he sat down, knowing that Suga would do as he pleased, and if he wanted to worry about his knee, there was nothing he could do about it. Except stop the limping, maybe.

“By the way, just so you know,” Suga started in a normal voice but lowered it then as he continued, “this isn’t like the last row in movies so we can’t make out.”

Oikawa let out a surprised noise, somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. “Is that all you think about?”

“What? Making out? With you?” Suga was smiling too temptingly to look anywhere else, and Oikawa didn’t care if Suga noticed him staring at his lips. “I think it’s what you keep thinking about.”

Oikawa crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively. “Can you blame me?”

Suga grinned wider in response, licking his bottom lip.

Oikawa cleared his throat, hurrying to think about something else. It’s not that he didn’t want to talk about making out with Suga, or think about it. But they weren’t exactly alone so he had to divert his thoughts somewhere.

Unfortunately the first thing that came to his mind wasn’t so far from the topic. He resisted the urge to cringe when he asked, “Have you though?”

“Have I what?” Suga asked.

“Made out with someone at the movies?” Oikawa couldn’t believe he just asked that, but there was no going back. He steeled himself against the answer.

“Yes,” Suga gave a straight answer. “And I’m pretty sure you have too.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“You dated Iwa for a long time. I bet you went at least once to get some excitement into your dates.”

“Hm,” Oikawa hummed shortly, thinking how right Suga was. “Maybe,” he said a little sullenly now that Iwaizumi was brought into the conversation.

Suga seemed to pick up on it immediately. “You don’t want to talk about him?”

“Not really,” Oikawa answered under his breath, straightening his posture in the seat now that the teams came onto the court to warm up, getting ready for the game that was about to start any minute.  

“Did something happen?” Suga asked in a quiet voice. How it was possible for Suga to be so attuned to his tones and moods, Oikawa was sure he’d never figure out. But he was glad nonetheless that Suga did pick up on it. It meant they could not talk about Iwaizumi.

“No, it’s just... He’s my ex, so it’s weird to talk about him with you now.” Oikawa glanced at Suga, unable to see his eyes clearly in the shadow under the cap so he couldn’t say for sure if Suga believed his lie that was only partly so.

“He’s also your best friend.” Suga remarked softly.

“Yeah,” Oikawa sighed, wondering if that was true anymore.

“Oh, it looks like you’ve been spotted,” Suga said then, completely moving on from the subject.

Oikawa looked where he was looking and noticed a familiar orange hair popping in and out of sight as he ran up the stairs towards them.

“He might’ve seen you too,” Oikawa reasoned as Hinata came closer.

“In this disguise?” Suga asked with disbelief.

Oikawa took another cursory glance at him, appraising him – under the hood, with the cap shadowing his face, with the mustache – and he had to admit that if he saw Suga like this, not knowing it was him, he wouldn’t recognize him either.

“Oikawa-san!” Hinata called when he was only a couple of bounces away, waving excitedly. “Did you come to see Kuroo’s game?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa answered, unable to keep the smile away, Hinata’s excitement catching onto him.

“Cool!” Hinata came to a stop next to him and shifted his focus on Suga for a moment. “Who’s your friend?”

Suga laughed next to Oikawa. “It’s me Hinata.” He lifted his cap a little so his face was visible.

“Suga-san!” Hinata leaped over to Suga’s side. “Did Kuroo finally let you come?”

“No,” Suga laughed. “Hence the disguise.”

“I like the mustache. It would match my hair.”

“True,” Suga smiled. “You can have it if you want.”

“Really? Kenma won’t believe my eyes when he sees me with it.” Hinata was already laughing at the possibility of Kenma’s surprise. There was something almost childlike in Hinata’s actions, in the easy way he got excited and looked forward to anything happening. And it was contagious as hell.

For just a second Oikawa forgot his anxiousness over the game and was able to be care free. But just for a second. Once the players were about to be introduced onto the court, Oikawa was nervous again.

“Oh, they’re starting,” Hinata jumped in his seat and got up. “I better go back to Kenma. See you later!” he shouted when he was already running down.

“Where does he find the energy?” Oikawa asked without actually expecting an answer.

Suga chuckled next to him. “I think he just has a lot of stamina.”

“But where does he keep the reserve for it? He’s so small.”

Suga kept silently laughing next to him. “He’s an enigma.”

Oikawa let out a scoff and slumped a little lower in his seat. “I’m mysterious too,” he said in a high grumble, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Somehow Suga found that funny as well. “You get jealous too easily.”

“No, I don’t,” Oikawa said, trying and failing not to sound offended.

“You don’t need to get jealous,” Suga said calmly, his tone soothing and comforting. “I’m here with you.”

Oikawa looked over to Suga, taking in his ridiculous appearance, and noticed how softly Suga was looking at him. “I need a kiss now,” he pouted a little.

Of course Suga was laughing again – did he inhale laughing gas at some point? – but sobered rather quickly. “Of course you do,” he stated as if it was both obvious and ridiculous, before he brought his hand on Oikawa’s nape to bring him closer to a kiss.

“Why’d you stop?” Oikawa asked when Suga pulled away.

“Because you asked for _a_ kiss.”

Oikawa pouted and did his best to look like a sad puppy. “I want more.”

Suga tilted his head to the side and raised his eyebrows in question. “Do you want to keep kissing or do you want to watch the game?” he asked, still leaning closer.

Someone cleared their throat loudly and they both looked to their right. A couple of seats over sat an older grouchy looking man, gazing down to the court.

“Then again, we don’t want to make others uncomfortable,” Suga whispered with a mischievous smile when he turned back to Oikawa.

Oikawa mirrored his smile, took a glance at the man with the throat problems, and stole a quick kiss from Suga. “No, you’re right,” he agreed in a slightly louder voice than usual and turned to watch the court, just as Kuroo’s name was called and he jogged to the court.

It took approximately five minutes and five points for both teams for Oikawa to grow restless. His leg was nervously bouncing up and down as he followed the ball from one side of the net to the other.

A loud scream of a point won echoed in the gym as Kuroo’s team scored and celebrated for a quick team hug – and for a fraction of a second Oikawa experienced a flashback of him celebrating with his old team.

“Are you okay?” Suga whispered next to him.

Oikawa couldn’t answer so he nodded, his eyes following the way Kuroo’s team mate served the ball. He knew he would’ve done better, if he could still play.

His thoughts of regret were halted before they could form when Suga’s put his steady hand on his thigh, stopping the nervous bouncing his leg was doing.

“Relax,” Suga said kindly, and Oikawa forced a deep breath into his lungs, letting it out slowly. “Good, take another,” he advised and Oikawa did.

“You okay?” Suga checked.

Oikawa glanced away from the court and saw Suga already looking at him. “I’m fine.”

“We can leave if you want.”

“No, I’m good,” Oikawa shook his head a little and returned his focus back to the game. He felt Suga gently squeeze his thigh, his hand remaining there steady and reassuring.

Kuroo’s team was now leading by two points, and with one more point it would be a short intermission.

“We can go out for fresh air once the set is over,” Suga said softly, leaning against Oikawa’s shoulder.

Oikawa smiled at the consideration and gesture and took Suga’s hand in his. “No need, I’m good.”

And somehow, holding Suga’s hand and feeling his warmth pressed to his side helped. Knowing that Suga was there for him kept the anxiousness at bay. He was actually able to enjoy watching the game, but not without some constructive criticism about the failed game plays or comparisons he had between his own and the team members playing.

Before Oikawa noticed, too immersed to the game as he had been, the referee blew the whistle for the last time as Kuroo’s team scored the last point, winning three straight sets. He jumped up to cheer with Suga and the rest of the sports fans who came to support Kuroo’s team.

Everyone was starting to disperse from the stands now that the game was over, either leaving, or going to congratulate or console the teams. As Oikawa and Suga had been sitting on the top row, they had to wait a moment before they could make their way down the stairs. While they waited, Suga fiddled with his phone, and Oikawa kept looking for Kuroo. As they crowd lessened, Oikawa was able to see him on the court a little away from his team, talking to a gentleman he recognized – even after the long years since he had last played, he could still recognize the stoic man.

“I want to congratulate Kuroo,” Oikawa said to Suga as they joined the trickle walking down the stairs. “He played really well.”

“Go ahead,” Suga encouraged with a smile, putting his phone away. “I’ll see you outside.”

“You don’t want to congratulate him?”

“And let him know I came to see his game when he didn’t want me to?” Suga asked sarcastically and then patted Oikawa’s arm affectionately. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Fine,” Oikawa stretched the word. “I’ll tell Kuroo you said hi.”

“Don’t take too long, I’m getting hungry.” Suga gave him a quick kiss and in the next heartbeat he was turning towards the front doors.

Oikawa looked after Suga for a moment, but looked away when the scout he had recognized walked past him with a nod in lieu of a greeting. Oikawa flashed a wan smile in response, and quickly made his way to Kuroo.

“I saw you,” Kuroo said as a greeting when he spotted him standing by.

“Yeah?” Oikawa grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets to appear casual, or at least more casual than he was feeling.

“Yeah,” Kuroo grinned back. “You didn’t have to look so horrified the whole time.”

Oikawa chuckled a little. “You played well,” he said as he sobered. “Really well.” It pained him a little to say so, but since Kuroo had been so understanding and full of sympathy towards him, he felt like he should do something nice in return.

“Thanks.” Kuroo was grinning, but there was something there Oikawa couldn’t pinpoint until he heard Kuroo’s next question.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

Oikawa took a deep breath, actually thought about his answer. “I’m okay,” he nodded along as he said to emphasize the positivity of the statement. “What about you? Did you get an offer?”

“What?” Kuroo looked a little confused and Oikawa gestured with his head towards the scout who was lingering by the doors leading to the locker rooms. “Do you know him?” Kuroo asked then as he understood.

“He scouted me.”

“Oh.” Kuroo was surprised. “Well, yeah, he mentioned why he was here and told me that a team in Osaka might have a spot for me. He was worried about my age, though, since I’m not that young anymore.”

Oikawa scoffed with amusement. “You’re twenty five, not one leg in a grave.”

“Yeah, well,” Kuroo drawled and shrugged. “I don’t think I’m going to go to Osaka. I like it here. Besides –“

“Tsukki,” Oikawa said knowingly and Kuroo confirmed with a soft smile.

“Anyway, the gym is free tomorrow around noon and I was thinking of coming to practice. Do you want to come with again?” Kuroo offered.

“Definitely,” Oikawa replied with a genuine smile. Watching the game and having to sit by and do nothing but watch had made him want to play. He was already looking forward to tomorrow. There was something else he had planned for the night though, and he was excited to get to that as well.

“I’m going to let you go to the shower.” Oikawa patted Kuroo’s shoulder and then made a big show of wiping the hand on Kuroo’s shirt with a disgusted expression. “I took a little break from studying to come here and I have to get back.”

“Alright,” Kuroo laughed and pushed on his shoulder. “See you.”

Oikawa waved back to him, and after dodging being seen by the scout, he was outside in no time.

He took a deep breath of the fresh evening air. It had been hard at times inside watching the game. But he knew it would be hard. But he felt a little stronger now, after the experience.

He looked around and spotted Suga quickly, the fake mustache impossible not to see. He chuckled to himself as he made his way towards Suga, who he now recognized was talking to Hinata and Kenma.

“See you at home,” he heard Suga say to the kids and waved to them right before he reached them.

“Hi,” he whispered from behind Suga, who turned to him in surprise.

“Hey.” Suga’s smile was sweet. “How was Kuroo?”

“He’s good.”

“And you?” Suga took his hand as he asked, looking up to him with so much affection Oikawa felt it fill him to the brim.

“I’m good,” he replied in a husky voice and cupped Suga’s cheek with his free hand. He was about to kiss him, when he remembered the fake mustache. As fun as the look was on Suga, it needed to go.

“Can we take this off now?” he asked, tugging lightly on the end of it.

Suga laughed and pulled it off. “Yeah, sorry,” he apologized with a sheepish smile and he proceeded to push the hood down and fix the cap on his head so it was only lightly on, his bangs freely moving in the wind.

“Better?”

“Much,” Oikawa whispered his answer, his lips already brushing on Suga’s before he pressed them together in a kiss.

“We’re getting looks,” Suga whispered right after.

“I don’t care,” Oikawa said with a smirk, already going for another short kiss when Suga grabbed his hand with a sweet laugh that could be categorized as giggle.

“Come on, let’s go eat.” He took Oikawa’s hand in his again and started to pull him along.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Is this a really lame date?” Oikawa asked uncertainly when they had already eaten their food. Up until that point everything had been great, and the conversation had flowed as well as always – at least in Oikawa’s opinion when he had been just a little worried that everything would turn awkward – but there seemed to be something weighing on Suga that wasn’t there earlier.

“No,” Suga smiled with his answer. “Why?”

Oikawa shrugged, not really having any reason to ask it other than worry that Suga would find the date bad. “Just wondering. We came straight from a volleyball game.”

Suga chucked softly. “And?”

“And we’re dressed like we always are, well,” Oikawa gestured at Suga’s attire. “Not you, but you know what I mean. And I feel like we should’ve done something special for our first date.”

Suga’s smile turned soft. “Just because we’re not wearing anything fancy doesn’t mean I’m not enjoying the date. Anyway, we don’t have to think of this as our first date. This could be a predate, and we’ll have a proper date some other day.”

Oikawa was encouraged by Suga’s words.

“Besides, at this point, I think the date is successful whenever the professional meddlers aren’t around,” Suga added.

Oikawa chuckled. “I have to agree on that one.”

And it was like they had said ‘bloody mary’ three times into a mirror, when –

“Hey, guys,” Tanaka said with a happy grin. “Here on a date?”

Oikawa and Suga exchanged a glance. “No, why?” Suga said.

“Because you’re holding hands,” Tanaka pointed out, his smile practically splitting his face in two.

Suga had reached his hand towards him at one point over the table, his chin leaning to his other hand, and Oikawa had placed his hand over Suga’s, and somehow and with every intention to do so, they had remained so. Oikawa was about to draw his hand out when Suga grabbed it tighter as he looked at Tanaka seriously. “So?”

Tanaka looked between them as if he couldn’t believe they would even try and convince him that they weren’t on a date. “Usually people hold hands when they’re on a date.”

“They do more than that too and we’re not doing any of it,” Suga replied.

“Like what?”

Oikawa exchanged another look, this time amused instead of slightly panicked, with Suga.

“Oh, you sweet child.” Suga cooed, and then contrasted it with a punch to Tanaka’s stomach.

Tanaka made a sound of ‘unf’ at the punch but seemed otherwise unbothered.

“Noya really needs to find you someone to date,” Oikawa stated calmly, knowing fully well that Noya wanted to keep his plans from Tanaka, and not caring at all.

Tanaka made a confused face and seemed thrown off of the previous topic. “What are you talking about?”

“Noya said he wants to set you up with someone,” Suga explained.

“Oh, right,” Tanaka had a faraway look in his eyes, looking out the window by their table. “He’s just concerned about my banana consumption.” He shrugged casually when he came back to them.

Suga chuckled along with Oikawa over the hilariousness of Tanaka’s words said so deadpan. “What are you even doing here?” Suga asked then.

“Oh, we’re all watching One Piece in your apartment and I was sent to get some food.” Tanaka lifted the bags of food he was holding. From the looks of the amount of food, apparently the whole building was occupying their living room. “Are you going to come soon too?”

“Once we’ve had our fill of calm and silence from everyone,” Suga replied with a small smile.

“Okay, well, enjoy I guess.” Tanaka shrugged again and left them alone.

Oikawa leaned back with a relieved sigh, and was surprised to feel Suga still holding his hand. Had they just had an entire conversation with Tanaka like that? “I don’t think we’ll be able to keep us a secret from everyone much longer.”

“I know,” Suga said in a quiet voice, as if he was a bit sad about it.

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Oikawa asked, really looking at Suga and brushing his thumb on Suga’s hand.

“Bothering me?”

“Something seems to bother you.”

“Oh, it’s not them. I’m just worried about Kuroo.”

Oikawa raised his eyebrows in surprise and question. “How come?”

“Kenma just said something that confirmed what I've been wondering about – I don’t really know what to think of it.”

“What?”

“Nothing I want to talk about now. I don’t want to bring down this perfectly nice date.”

“Perfectly _nice?”_ Oikawa was incredulous and wasn’t sure whether he should be offended or not.

Suga laughed softly, squeezing his hand again. “I meant that I don’t want anything to ruin it.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Oikawa grumbled, but it didn’t hold with Suga continuing to softly laugh. “Kuroo will be fine, though,” he said confidently. “He was just approached by a scout after the game.”

“Oh?”

“Although, he said that he doesn’t want to go to Osaka.”

“What is it with everyone dislike against Osaka?” Suga asked, seemingly from no one. “It’s a perfectly nice city.”

Oikawa couldn’t help his laughter when he heard Suga use the same phrase again. “I don’t think they have anything against it,” he said somberly. “They just have someone _here.”_

Suga hummed in thought. “You’re probably right.” But he seemed to fall into those thoughts right after, his gaze down and focused on the empty plate in front of him.

“What is it?”

Suga looked up to hold eye contact and bit his lip, probably thinking something over and over before he was sure enough to voice it. “If you were offered a job in Osaka, would you take it?”

Suga’s question spoke for leagues for its importance, but Oikawa wasn’t sure how serious Suga actually was with his question until he noticed the deep but soft way Suga was looking at him and how he was nervously biting on his lip.

“Would you like to order desert?” the waiter interrupted them suddenly with a pleasant frozen customer-service smile.

“No, thank you,” Oikawa replied quickly. “We’ll just pay.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

Oikawa turned back to Suga when the waiter walked away, and just looked for a while, thinking about Suga and all the things that Suga was and could be. He had an answer to the question, but he was a little worried about being too serious so early in their relationship. But he quickly made up his mind.

“I wouldn’t take a job there if you would stay here.”

Suga’s smile was first soft, then happy, and finally shy as he looked down.  “I could take photos in Osaka too.”

Oikawa was suddenly filled with happiness and rainbows and sugar and teddy bears and everything that was soft and sweet and lovely – to be overly dramatic.

“Here you go.” The waiter was back, and once they had paid, they were already stepping outside again.

“Do you mind if we make a stop on our way home?” Suga asked as he put the cap on again so his bangs were visible and free in the wind again. The look actually suited Suga, in Oikawa’s opinion and he wondered why Suga didn’t wear it more often.  

“Sure,” Oikawa agreed easily to Suga’s request and put his arm around Suga’s shoulders, fitting him against his side. “Where?”

“Just to the store, I have to get some things.”

“Okay.”

Their walk to the store was quiet, but not in any way awkward. It was comfortable, even in middle of all the other people walking by, and before Oikawa noticed, they were already stepping into the bright fluorescent lights. Suga grabbed a basket, which Oikawa took from him, smirking at the faux-exasperated sigh Suga let out.

“I carry, you pick.”

“Fine,” Suga agreed and led the way.

“We have rice,” Oikawa commented when Suga dropped a bag into the basket. “And beans.”

“I know,” Suga said softly, a little mysteriously but continued onwards to the next aisle without an explanation.

Oikawa followed him with a contemplative frown, trying to figure Suga out. “Didn’t you just buy two bags of those?” Oikawa remarked upon the chips Suga placed in the basket.

“Yep,” Suga answered and was already heading forward.

Oikawa stayed put for a while, noting the brand and the flavor of the chips and hurried after Suga. “This is for Kuroo, isn’t it?” he whispered behind Suga when he caught him at the frozen foods section.

“I just want to help out a little.” Suga smiled softly at the ice cream.

“Do you think he’ll accept it?” Oikawa asked, looking at Suga and then at the amount of food. He knew that Kuroo was proud, and the fact that the man hadn’t beeped a word of his situation money-wise told Oikawa that he didn’t want handouts.

“I’ll tell him it’s from my mom,” Suga said it like it was a solution, which it most likely was. Kuroo would never say no to Akiko’s mothering. “But she can’t know.” Suga turned to Oikawa with a serious expression, brushing his finger along the hair by his face, the way Oikawa had just wanted to. “If my mom finds out that Kuroo’s struggling, she’ll be here in a blink of an eye and _won’t_ leave.”

Oikawa smiled a little at Suga’s insistence of what his mother would do.

“She can’t know, I’m serious. Once she starts mothering one, she starts mothering everyone.”

“I know, I believe you.” Oikawa nodded but didn’t even try and diminish his smile.

“No, you don’t get it.” Suga shook his head a little and Oikawa bit down on his bottom lip. He realized Suga saw him smiling as if he wasn’t taking him seriously. But he was. “The dinners you’ve experienced and witnessed are nothing. She’s lovely, I’ll admit that,” Suga continued softly. “And she’s wonderful. And that’s why I’d like her to only mother me. The dinners she cooks for everyone when she visits are fine. That she’s invested in what goes on in everyone’s life is fine. I can deal with all of that. But I get a little jealous when she starts babying everyone like she does with me.”

Oikawa was a little thrown. He had noticed, of course he had, that Suga and his mother were close, and that Suga sometimes liked to act like they weren’t with the little comments that she visited too much. But now he could see how much Suga appreciated everything his mother did for him, the effort she had made to get to know his friends. But at the end of the day, she was his mother, and not everyone else’s.

“I get it, Suga-chan,” Oikawa said softly, gently brushing his thumb on Suga’s cheek. “I won’t tell her.”

Suga smiled, appreciative little curl of his lips. “Thank you. But as long as Kuroo knows, this is all from her.”

“Got it.” Oikawa nodded. “Won’t the ice cream melt, though?”

Suga’s smile widened. “The ice cream is for us. Do you want ice cream?”

“Yes.” Oikawa matched Suga’s smile. “But I have another question,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes as Suga picked up the ice cream for them. “Are the condoms for us as well?”

“Oh, right,” Suga looked up in thought and then brought his eyes down to look straight into Oikawa’s. “We probably need them for tonight.”

Oikawa shrugged, as casually as anyone ever had, and pressed his lips tight together not to smile as he started to head towards the cash register.

“No, you cannot shrug at that,” Suga said after him a bit indignantly, a quiet outcry of unfairness, while Oikawa chuckled silently to himself.

Suga caught up with him pretty quickly, though, grabbing the back of his jacket to stop him. “I have to get one more thing, come on,” he said, tugging Oikawa along to another row of shelves, to the opposite direction.

Oikawa had expected Suga to keep going about the condoms, or about that night in general and demand a proper answer, so he was a bit surprised when Suga didn’t continue on the subject, leading him towards the alcohol.

“Is that for Kuroo too?” Oikawa checked, still smirking due to his own clever teasing earlier. He knew it was for Kuroo, but it was too much fun to pose a ridiculous redundant question just to find out how Suga would reply.

“No, it’s for me to get through the night if you’re not going to fuck me,” Suga said deadpan, causing them to get a peculiar look from a stranger passing by them.

Oikawa felt his cheek warm and he tried to keep his rising blush from spreading too far or becoming too red, too noticeable. “How is it that sometimes you care that there are people around, and then sometimes you don’t care at all?” Oikawa wondered in a whisper.

“It’s a selective skill,” Suga smiled impishly.

Oikawa dropped his head down, shaking it a little, as he couldn’t help chuckling.

“We can go now,” Suga said then and grabbed Oikawa’s sleeve to pull him after him. Oikawa willingly followed with a pleased smile on his lips.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

“I knew you were at the game,” were the words Kuroo decided to greet Suga with when he opened the door and saw Suga standing there with a brown cardboard box and with the absurd mustache on. If Suga hadn’t been sitting next to Oikawa, and holding his hand to boot, he wouldn’t have figured out it was Suga in the gigantic hoodie and the ginger handlebar mustache. “You weren’t allowed to come,” he said without any anger as he pulled the mustache off and put it on himself. He didn’t really mind that Suga had come against his wishes – it was actually nice of Suga to show his support by wearing a disguise to come and see his game. He had suspected that Suga had done that before too, but had no way of confirming it. There was no way that Suga would admit to it anyway.

“But I did, and I didn’t heckle. I was so good, cheering just as loud as others, definitely louder than Kenma.” Suga said with an easy smile.

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile back.

“You played really well,” Suga added softly, sounding and looking so utterly proud it filled Kuroo with warmth.

“Thanks.” Kuroo looked down and then back up. “I don’t even remember what you said back then, when you heckled.”

“Watch out for the net.” Suga said simply. “It wasn’t what I said but when that caused you to fumble. I really am sorry for it.”

“I know, you’re forgiven.”

Suga beamed. “Good. Now let me in. I need to put this down somewhere.”

Kuroo looked at the box in Suga’s hold and opened the door wider to let him enter. “What is that?” he asked, trying to take a peek inside.

“It’s a care package.” Suga set the box down on the kitchen counter.

“Where did it come from?” Kuroo asked suspiciously, peering into the box and saw food to last him weeks, plus other essentials. The condoms didn’t go unnoticed by him and he dreaded Suga’s answer.

“From my mom.” The shrug Suga accompanied his words with was too casual, as if it wasn’t a big deal, when it clearly was a really fucking big thing, and embarrassing too when the thought of Akiko providing him with condoms...

Kuroo couldn’t even think the thought through without blushing.

“She shouldn’t have,” he muttered.

“She wanted to do something nice.”

“Yeah, but –“ Kuroo looked at the box again and felt cared for in a way that made his heart swell. “This is too much.”

“And here,” Suga made things even more overwhelming for Kuroo and pulled an envelope from his back pocket.

Kuroo took it tentatively, and peeked inside only to look up to Suga in shock.

“No, this is way too much.” He thrust the envelope back to Suga. “I can’t accept this.”

“Yes, you can,” Suga pushed Kuroo’s hand back. “And you will.”

Kuroo shook his head.

“I know you’re proud, and I know you want to get by on your own. But please, let us help.”

“I don’t need your mother’s money, Suga. Take this back to her.” Kuroo was pained to think that Akiko would send money for him. Ultimately, yes it was nice that she cared so much and wanted to take care of him, but it was too much.

“It’s not from her.” Suga stated clearly and simply, but with a soft smile and a head tilt, as if waiting for Kuroo to get the implication. “And it’s fake money inside the envelope.”

Kuroo took another look inside the envelope.

“The money is already on your bank account. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”

Kuroo shook his head in disbelief and looked up to Suga with wide eyes. Why was Suga being so casual about giving him money? “I’ll transfer it all back to you.”

“And I’ll just transfer it back.” Suga took a step closer and his voice was steady, imploring. “You need to pay for your rent. I think I gave enough to float you for a couple of months, but if you need mor-“

“No, Suga –“ Kuroo cut off, not knowing what to say and he bit his bottom lip after a long sigh. “How did you know?”

“You don’t have a TV anymore. And you’ve been eating at everyone’s place for your every meal for the past month. I’m not stupid, and I hate to see you struggling. So, please, accept the money. Pay for your rent, buy food, buy a new TV.” Suga put his hand gently on Kuroo’s arm, the one that was limply holding the envelope. “Take Tsukki out.”

Kuroo was so touched and a little overwhelmed due to his shock of Suga’s kindness that he was close to tears.

“You won’t be happy couch surfing and I’d never let you do that.” Suga was making a strong statement for Kuroo to accept the money with everything he was saying.

“I’ll pay you back.” Kuroo said resolutely, finally putting away the envelope filled with the fake money. “I promise.”

Suga smiled, a small delicate curve on his lips. “I know. But not before you’re actually getting some income.”

Kuroo let out a little laugh and tried to imperceptibly wipe his eyes. When he looked at Suga again, he noticed his gaze was on the wall above his couch.

“You didn’t sell my photo,” Suga said softly, turning back to look at him.

Kuroo looked at the photo Suga had gifted him a year or two back, and then at Suga. “I would never sell it. It’s from you.”

“You could’ve gotten a lot of money for it.”

“I know, but it’s more important to me than money.”

Suga’s smile was fond and he stepped closer to him, winding his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders.

Kuroo accepted the hug, keeping Suga in a tight hold to show how grateful he was. “You’re too good, Suga.”

Suga stepped away with a light laugh and a mischievous smile. “I’m really not. Now, come on, everyone’s watching One Piece at our place.” He was already walking towards the front door and Kuroo was blindly following him like a puppy, or a duckling.

“What episode are they on?”

“Let’s find out,” Suga smiled playfully and Kuroo dried the last remains of his unshed tears on his sleeve as they made their way down one flight of stairs.

 

 

...

 

 

Kuroo went straight to the couch where Kenma was lounging on and hugged him tightly. Kenma patted his back comfortingly, although a little awkwardly. It was still a cute picture and Suga smiled as he took a look around.

“Where’s Tooru?” he asked when he didn’t see the man in the living room with everyone.

“In his room,” Hinata answered from the floor where he was playing with the duck with the stuffed toy ducks Oikawa had gotten Suga a way back when. “Do you want me to get him?” he looked up to Suga to ask.

“No, he’s probably studying,” Suga said with a small smile and sat down on the floor next to Yaku, on the other side of Hinata since every soft surface was already occupied.

“Why are Kuroo’s eyes red?” Yaku leaned closer to him to whisper.

Suga glanced at Kuroo, who was grinning widely at something Kenma said, still keeping him in a semihug.

“Because I made him cry,” Suga answered honestly, whispering as well. And somehow Yaku seemed to understand everything that that meant.

“You’re a good friend, Suga.”

Suga sighed, wondering if that was true since he was keeping a big secret from his friends, almost lying about it to everyone. He flashed a wan smile at him, and turned his focus on the TV.

 

 

...

 

 

It took hours for everyone to leave, once they were too tired to keep their eyes open anymore. Suga was sure Oikawa had already fallen asleep, since he hadn’t seen him at all since they came home. But he decided to check anyway once he had showered off the day and gotten ready for sleep.

He was pleasantly surprised to find Oikawa still awake, although still studying, lying down on his back on the bed. He waited for a moment by his room, wondering if he should interrupt his studying. There was something they had agreed on earlier that day, but as eager as Suga was to get to it, he didn’t mind waiting a bit longer if Oikawa preferred to study, or go to sleep.

He figured he could at least say good night and try and convince Oikawa to go to sleep as well. It was getting really late, and Oikawa had been studying for hours.

He knocked softly on the doorframe and Oikawa tilted the book away from his face, greeting him with a charming smile once their eyes met.

“Everyone finally left,” Suga said, leaning to the doorframe with his hand, still undecided whether to go to his own bed to sleep or stay with Oikawa.

“I wondered why it got so quiet,” Oikawa mused lightheartedly.

Suga smiled in response, but it probably didn’t look as genuine as it felt to Suga.

“What’s on your mind?” Oikawa asked.

“Is it ‘one day’ now?” Suga spoke softly.

Oikawa closed his book and put it down on the floor next to the bed, all the while smiling. They held the eye contact for a while, but Suga was sure neither of them thought about anything else.  

“If you want.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil teasing laughter because I know what happens next but you don't*
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> * flowering into manhood (if you get where that's from, I will love you forever (maybe, forever is a long time) but please don't go out of your way and type that into Google - that's cheating)  
> * "no talking about sex in front of the kids"  
> * I think I see Ennoshita's name written there, wonder why *thinking emoji*  
> * "you two are tearing my heart into two and it hurts too much, so you have to fix this before I decide to move to the North Pole so I can be done with everything and only make friends with polar bears, and maybe Santa. And I'm taking Kumamon with me, don't think I won't."


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 'One Day'
> 
> ...in a way since I didn't want to bump up the rating...
> 
> Also,  
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUGA!

 

 

”If you want.”

Suga smiled, pleased and a little bit excited but also nervous, as he made his way to the bed and crawled closer to Oikawa to lie half on top of him, settling down gently to kiss him. “I think we’ve waited long enough,” he half whispered, sliding Oikawa’s glasses off and leaned away briefly to put them aside on the table next to the bed.

“You can admit it if you’re horny, that’s okay,” Oikawa teased, following Suga’s actions through slightly blurry vision until he was back in focus, closer again.

Suga hummed, thinking briefly of how to respond, his gaze wandering on Oikawa’s features now that he wasn’t wearing glasses. In a way, Suga was already used to the image of Oikawa without his glasses, but it was still always new whenever he witnessed it.

“You can admit it too,” Suga suggested with a sly smirk, having to force it to appear so. “I won’t judge you.”

Oikawa scoffed with a smile, more amused than anything else, and ran his hands down Suga’s sides and left them to rest on his lower back. “I think you’re the one who’s been shamelessly after my ass,” he pointed out with a raised eyebrow, as if he was pointing out something Suga couldn’t deny.

And Suga didn’t bother to deny it. He could make the counter point that Oikawa had been after him just as much, but couldn’t do so when Oikawa’s apparent indifference was causing his nerves to shake.

He sat up, successfully straddling Oikawa, and took a deep breath as imperceptibly as he could to try and ease some of his nerves. This wasn’t the first time he would have sex, not by far, but he was still a little jittery. He wasn’t sure of the cause, but he could make a guess. Maybe it was the fact that this would be with Oikawa, someone he really liked, someone he had been crushing on on multiple occasions, someone he really didn’t want to ruin anything with, someone he really needed the sex to work smoothly with. Because, what if the sex was bad or disappointing? What would they do then? Of course it was obvious what they would do then – they would have to have more sex and communicate with each other until they had each other’s likes and dislikes, turn-on’s and turn-off’s down to pat.

But still, there was something within Suga that almost desperately wanted the sex to be amazing from the get-go. He had almost convinced himself that it was all Oikawa’s fault, with his promises that he would experience the best sex he’d ever had, even if he was doubtful that it would be that good, since it was their first time together.

Oikawa’s hands smoothed down from Suga’s back to his thighs, his warm hands burning through the material of Suga’s pants, igniting Suga’s nerve-endings with pure want. He wanted to feel those hands everywhere on his body, touching every millimeter of his skin, to alight his body in a way he was yet to experience.

Suga followed that feeling, the thoughts forgotten and replaced with instincts.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked, his hands already at the hem of Oikawa’s shirt, his fingers playing with it in a way that allowed them to skim on Oikawa’s skin as well, causing shivers and goosebumps to appear on Oikawa’s arms.

“If you want,” Oikawa tried to play cool, shrugging and smirking as if he didn’t really care but was game if Suga wanted to do so.

“Okay,” Suga said under his breath, but not in a way that suggested he was about to do so, and sighed as he sat up straighter, his hands leaving Oikawa’s shirt alone. “This isn’t going to work if you’re just going to act indifferent. I need you to tell me what’s okay and what isn’t-“

Oikawa cut Suga off right before he could finish his sentence, the last syllable swallowed by the sudden intake of breath Suga did out of surprise as Oikawa sat up as well.

Oikawa held steady eye contact with Suga as he grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it off, slow enough to be teasing and not boring. Once the shirt was off and thrown somewhere to the side, Suga was biting his bottom lip, his eyes nowhere near Oikawa’s eyes.

“Good?” Oikawa asked in a lower voice than he usually spoke in.

Suga nodded, slightly absent minded when he was faced with Oikawa’s unfairly impressive physique. “Really good,” he gathered his wits to say breathlessly. He cupped Oikawa’s jaw with his both hands, and kissed him. The suddenly passionate kiss was only disrupted when Oikawa pulled Suga’s shirt off, and only for a second until they were glued to each other again, as if they were afraid that they would run out of air if they weren’t sharing it.

After that –

After that it was laughter when Oikawa accidentally tickled Suga – Oikawa’s words but Suga was convinced he did it on purpose.

It was a frustrated groan from Oikawa when he struggled to pull Suga’s jeans off, while Suga didn’t help matters at all or make the task of yanking off the uncooperative article of clothing off any easier with his endless and breathless laughter.

It was a ridiculous and pointless conversation of socks in middle of heavy breathing and hot hands traveling on their bodies.

_“Socks off,” Suga giggled, nudging Oikawa’s thigh with his toes._

_“How demanding.”_

_“Take them off,” Suga commanded again, the harshness of his words overshadowed by his giggles._

_“What do you have against socks?” Oikawa inquired as he took them off, one by one as slowly as he dared to stall, letting them fall wherever they would without a second thought. They might’ve been one of the pairs Suga had bought for him to replace the ones he had vacuumed, but Oikawa was sure that there weren’t monsters under his bed with a specific appetite for socks with polka dots on them. Dust bunnies maybe, but not mint green socks with pink polka dots._

_“Nothing. Socks are fine,” Suga insisted, his giggles dying away as Oikawa laid between his legs. “But not when I’m about to be dicked.”_

_Oikawa snickered over Suga’s choice of words. “Why? Don’t like to see them?”_

_“It’s not th-“ Suga cut himself off with an impatient huff. “We’re talking too much nonsense.”_

_“No, tell me,” Oikawa urged softly, slowing them down and running his fingers through Suga’s hair and down his neck._

_Suga let out a sharp sigh, a ghost of a grin in his impatient expression. “They make me laugh when I see them. Like, uncontrollably laugh and then it’s impossible to have the sex.”_

_Oikawa could imagine it, just from the giggles that Suga had let out suddenly and in middle of Oikawa sucking another violet bruise on Suga’s fair skin._

_“Okay, socks always off when having sex,” Oikawa summarized. “Got it,” he nodded, and proceeded to kiss Suga like there was no tomorrow._

 

Then it was greedy lips seeking the others’. It was tangled limbs and light laughter when something didn’t go smoothly and they accidentally hit each other with their elbows and knees. It was kisses covering each other to soothe the sudden and temporary ache and love bites and bruises already blossoming on their chests, the insides of their thighs.

It was “cramp, cramp, cramp”, and a position change.

It was a weird moment of a thought “what are you doing?” followed by “oh” and a staccato of small gasps. It was Suga wondering in middle of it why they had waited so long, and being glad that they had.

It was magnetized eye contact and “we’re actually doing this” thought with reverence, right before they took the last of the many steps that had led them to this point.

It was everything at once and everything all the time.

It was a breathless moment as they came down from the high of their orgasms. Exhaustion and euphoria, the two opposing feelings competing to be felt, turning them giddy and laughing as soon as their eyes met as they lay next to each other.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Oikawa woke up slowly the following morning, after a tranquil, dreamless sleep that somehow left him more relaxed than he had been in a long while. But there was a suspicious lack of heat and a warm body in the bed next to him, and Oikawa opened his eyes with a frown, aimlessly patting the empty space next to him to confirm that Suga really wasn’t there.

The frown disappeared when he registered the faint sounds of the coffee maker gurgling, and he stretched turning to his back with a smile. He wondered if Suga had slipped from the bed earlier to make him breakfast, and he would’ve gladly stayed in bed, waiting to confirm, if his desire to kiss Suga silly wasn’t so overpowering, urging him to get up.

He was naked, though, that much he was aware of without getting up, and it solidified his knowledge that he hadn’t dreamed last night, that they really had finally had sex. Just for the hell of it, to go through the motions and the giddy feelings and pleasure, he thought back, trying to remember it all.  

He could still feel every touch and kiss, Suga’s hands, Suga’s body under his hands. He could hear every whisper, gasp and moan, taste every kiss, smell Suga in his sheets. He could vividly see blissed and fucked out Suga in sharp 4D image.

He let the last soft tendrils of euphoria cling onto him as the last night came back to him, down to the last conversation with Suga until they had fallen asleep.

If Oikawa could, he would relive it all over and over and over again.

 

 

...

 

 

 

“No!” Suga moved his hands in a gesture for Oikawa to stop. “Don’t move. You look perfect there.”

Oikawa raised his eyebrow in a flirtatious question, but remained where he was – leaning back to the headboard of the bed, with Suga looking at him from the foot of the bed.

“Don’t I always look perfect?” Oikawa inquired in a slightly lowered voice, smirking.

“Just stay there,” Suga advised softly, in such a way that made Oikawa easily comply. He rather liked the way Suga was looking at him, soft and intense but fond all at the same time, just to name a few of the feelings he could catalog from Suga’s gaze. It made Oikawa smile softly back at him, letting Suga ogle as much as he wished.

“I really wish I had my camera right now,” Suga whispered after a while, and Oikawa’s smile widened.

“So you can take pictures of me nude?” he joked. He had covered the most crucial parts of his body with the sheets, but he was still without clothes underneath them.

Suga laughed softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile, his eyes shining as he truly looked happy. “Could I?” He turned serious, his eyes wandering on Oikawa’s exposed torso.

“Seriously?”

Suga nodded, his eyes steady and locked on Oikawa’s.

With just that small gesture he managed to cause Oikawa’s heartbeat to pick up again, his insides fluttering with excitement and, let’s face it, he was getting hard again.

“If I’m not allowed to come there, could you come here?” Oikawa reached his hand out towards Suga.

With a small smile Suga moved across the bed and Oikawa pulled him as close as possible as soon as he could touch him, to kiss him.

“You could go and get your camera if you want to,” Oikawa said as Suga settled next to him.

Suga looked at him with a peculiar expression, something Oikawa had never noticed Suga look at him with. “You really want me to take pictures of you naked?” Suga raised himself on his forearms to look at him.

“It’s just for you, right?” Oikawa shrugged. It really wasn’t a big deal for him – if Suga wanted to photograph him, he’d let him, no matter what he was wearing or not. Wasn’t the photo with the cursed Totoro-hat on his head evidence enough of his willingness to let Suga take pictures of him?

“Of course,” Suga replied slowly but surely.

“Then I have nothing against it.”

Suga licked and then bit his bottom lip, as if he was trying not to smile too widely. “Some other time, maybe,” he suggested, lying back down. “It’s late, I’m all fucked out and I don’t feel like messing with the lighting.” He yawned and wriggled a little in place, finding a perfect position to fall asleep in.

“The lighting?” Oikawa chuckled, scooting down so he was lying on his side to look at Suga.

“You want to look good, don’t you?” Suga opened his eyes to ask and then closed them again.

“I always look good, in any lighting.”

“But it’s dark now,” Suga pointed out. “You’d just look like a big black blob against a black background.”

Oikawa chuckled, since the small lamp on his bedside table was on and it definitely wasn’t too dark to take pictures, and wrapped his arm around Suga, pulling him closer. “Another time then.” If Suga wanted the photos to be ‘perfect’, which they of course would be when he was the subject in them, he could wait for another time, if such a time ever came.

“Mm, definitely.” Suga sighed and pressed against Oikawa. “Oh, just so you know, I won’t be able to sleep snuggled up like this.”

“I know,” Oikawa mumbled against Suga’s hair. He had noticed it earlier – even if they went to sleep spooning, Oikawa would wake up with Suga gone or a little ways away but somehow still touching – an arm wrapped around or a hand touching somewhere, maybe legs tangled. He wasn’t concerned about it. He knew and understood that Suga needed space – that was just how he was. Whereas Oikawa needed the reassurance closeness gave him. It was okay, though. They were okay and would continue to be so, he was sure of it, extremely confident in knowing this.

“So,” Oikawa started slowly, his fingers absent-mindedly trailing across Suga’s back. “Who’d you sleep with that wore socks that made you laugh?” The matter had continued to silently haunt him ever since Suga mentioned it and now, given the silence and time to think, it had resurfaced to the front of his mind.

“No one,” Suga replied casually, giving the impression that it really was no one.

Oikawa hummed, though, wondering on Suga’s answer. He had heard Suga use the same wording before. “I’m beginning to have feeling that ‘no one’ is a synonym for ‘Konoha’.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Suga replied quicker now, sounding a little tense.

“Why not?” Oikawa asked with genuine curiosity. “So you were friends with benefits with him.” He shrugged before he continued, “it’s not a big deal.”

Suga sighed heavily and shifted under Oikawa’s arm, turning just a little but not away. “It ended badly, that’s why.”

“Badly how?” Oikawa pressed, eager to finally find out what the big secret was, rolling a bit after Suga so he couldn’t go too far away, not yet.

“Can we not?” Suga asked tiredly. “It ended badly, let’s leave it at that.”

Oikawa wanted to know more, to fully understand, but could hear in Suga’s voice how much he didn’t want to talk about it. So he stopped badgering him and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

It was silent then, but not oppressively so. It was calm and comforting, almost enough to lull anyone asleep with its embrace. But Oikawa was too happy to fall asleep, and he felt the need to make conversation so the tenseness that the mention of Konoha had brought up would disappear.

“You know,” Oikawa whispered, to test whether Suga was asleep or not. “I once picked up this guy at a club, I don’t think I ever even got his name –“

“Classy,” Suga sputtered, the sound light and amused.

Oikawa continued with a grin, pleased that Suga hadn’t succumbed to sleep yet either, “-and he was wearing these fishnet stockings-“

“This is getting even better,” Suga commented, interrupting again.

“- and he refused to take them off.”

“What?” Suga full on laughed, leaning back a little and craning his neck to look at Oikawa. “What did you do then? If he refused to take them off?”

“He just blew me.”

Suga continued to laugh, airy and soft, befitting the night and silence around them. He rested his forehead on Oikawa’s chest, and Oikawa felt Suga’s shake with his laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” Oikawa inquired, bemused by Suga’s reaction to his story.

“You sounded so disappointed that he just blew you,” Suga managed to utter through his giggles.

“Well, he wasn’t very good,” Oikawa whined a little, realizing only when Suga said it that he really had sounded disappointed, but just a little. “And he bit my dick.”

Suga rolled on his back with his laughter, the sound traveling far and wide in the bedroom, filling every little space in between the furniture and the two of them. “I want to hear more about your sexcapades.”

“Little by little,” Oikawa promised, a smile slowly inching on his lips, delighted to hear Suga laugh so uninhibitedly. “I can’t spoil you with them all at once.”

Suga’s giggles faded slowly and he snuggled closer to Oikawa, who wrapped his arm around him tightly, pressing a quick kiss on his temple.

“It wasn’t Konoha who wore the socks.” Suga said so quietly Oikawa barely heard him, but hear him he did. “It was someone else. I don’t even remember his name anymore.”

Oikawa chuckled with a light scoff. “Classy,” he repeated Suga’s words back to him.

“We didn’t even do anything, I was laughing too much and he got fed up and left with a huff.” Suga spoke as if he found the whole thing more funny than tragic, which it actually was.

“I guess we’ve both had our bad luck when it came to hook ups,” Oikawa mused, playing with Suga’s hair, running it up between his fingers and letting the strands fall where they may before he repeated the motions.

“At least no one’s bit me though,” Suga pointed out, his voice carrying the tone of his impish grin.

Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes. In his opinion, Suga found the whole biting thing too amusing, but he couldn’t fault his boyfriend of that. If it had happened to anyone else, Oikawa would probably be sympathetically laughing as well.

“Have you bitten anyone?” he inquired curiously, having no idea why he even asked, if anyone really needed to know.

“No,” Suga answered with a surprised laughter, probably finding the question weird too. “Have you?” Suga lifted his head up and rest his chin on his hands, that he placed on Oikawa’s chest.

“Once,” Oikawa shrugged, indifferent about the ordeal. “He was a dick, so I bit because I couldn’t bark.”

“Was your mouth too full to bark?” Suga chuckled.

Oikawa opted not to answer, since Suga already knew the answer, and just let him enjoy the hilariousness he seemed to find in the story. He merely waited for Suga’s laugher to die down, watching him silently, feeling happy and unbothered by everything else that could possibly bother him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Suga asked softly as he sobered from his laughter, his head tilted as he fondly regarded Oikawa. “Do you want me to blow you?” he raised his eyebrow in question, maybe in a challenge for Oikawa to admit it.

Oikawa deliberated for a moment, and then really thought about it for another, before he came to the decision that it was late and he kind of wanted to, and needed to, sleep.

“Maybe in the morning,” he spoke slowly, as if he was still thinking about it when he had already made up his mind that it would be quite lovely to wake up to it. “Right now, I just want to snuggle you.” He rolled over Suga, trapping him under his body, wrapping himself around and on Suga like an octopus. “And sleep.”

Suga was laughing again, but lightly. “Okay, but could you let me breathe?”

“No,” Oikawa denied immediately, thinking of letting go off Suga and how tedious and horrendous of a task it sounded like. “I’m going to smother you with my affection.”

Suga kept giggling, shifting a little under Oikawa, who accommodated it by rising on his elbows and knees and then curled against Suga’s side so he didn’t actually smother him with his body.

“How are you this warm?” Suga whispered in the following silence.

Their naked bodies were pressed to each other, and Oikawa could feel Suga’s body heat as well.

“You’re warm too,” he stated with a yawn, his words peculiarly stretched and mumbled. “You can roll away when you need to,” he said then, knowing that Suga would do so sooner or later.

“I’m good for now,” Suga replied, his voice soft like a caress of a feather, like the caress of his fingertips on Oikawa’s arm that was securely placed around Suga’s waist. “Thank you for understanding it.”

“Mm, of course,” Oikawa mumbled against Suga’s shoulder, instinctively wrapping his arm around Suga tighter.

“When did you notice it?”

“Hm? What?” Oikawa wasn’t following Suga, too tired already and almost asleep.

“That I needed space to sleep?” Suga whispered, his breath tickling on Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa took a deep breath as he thought back, trying to find the answer to Suga’s question. “I think, the first time that we slept in the same bed. You kept moving.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t register why then. I connected the dots only a little while ago when you did the same the night when we made up.” Oikawa’s speech was drawled and heavy now, but he knew Suga was listening close enough to hear it, if the answer truly mattered to him. “And every night after that.”

“I’m sorry.” Suga’s voice was regretful, and Oikawa forced his eyes open to squint at the blurry version of Suga, his eyes fighting to close again as he felt Suga’s hand brush through his hair.

“I don’t mind, Suga-chan.” Oikawa smiled to reassure him.

“Okay, good.”

Oikawa was too far into the dreamlands to note the way Suga might have let out a relieved sigh, but he wasn’t too sleepy to feel the tender kiss Suga pressed against his lips.

“Good night, Tooru.”

Oikawa didn’t reply, too tired to sleep now. The last thing that he ‘saw’ before sleep took over, was the light that was turned off, the way everything behind his closed eyelids was turned to darkness, and the last thing he felt was Suga’s warm body next to his, their body heat shared through every point of sweet, promising contact.

 

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you weren't too disappointed with the chapter since it's shorter than usual. I wanted to make this it's own little chapter, and for some reason I just kept drifting towards fluff and no matter what I tried, it turned soft and silly.   
> *shrug* I still kind of like it :) 
> 
> It is almost midnight now and it's still light out, I smell of cloudberries and am wearing a flowercrown made of real flowers. Today was a good day. I hope it was good day for you as well and if not, I hope tomorrow will be better <3
> 
> to be continued (with the points I made in the notes in the previous chapter)


	42. Chapter 42

 

 

 

“I know I shouldn’t even ask, but... I mean it goes without saying, but I’d still like you to say it.”

_Suga shook his head as he leaned his hip to the counter and thought back to last night, to Oikawa acting as if he didn’t care about the answer when he asked, as if the answer was obvious to not only him but everyone in the world._

“Say what?” Suga asked casually, rising up to rest on his elbow, chin on his hand. “That it was the greatest sex I’ve ever had?” He guessed with a teasing glint in his eyes, in his tone.

“Well?” Oikawa prompted with guarded hope. “Wasn’t it?”

Suga pressed his lips together tight, looking down, and then pressed a kiss to Oikawa’s shoulder. He didn’t know what to say.

“So, it wasn’t,” Oikawa concluded from that and pulled his arm from around Suga. “Okay, good night then,” he said dismissively, acting hurt and disappointed and rolled away to turn his back to Suga.

“No, come back,” Suga hurried to say, stifling his chuckles as he found Oikawa’s act more funny than tragic, and put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder to stop him from rolling away, to keep him where he was. “It was amazing, Tooru. We just had amazing sex.” He paid a lot of attention to sound sincere, so Oikawa heard his true feelings and thoughts.   

“But it wasn’t the best you’ve ever had,” Oikawa pouted.

“My legs are still shaking,” Suga said softly, pointing out the importance, his hand trailing along Oikawa’s jaw, his touch warm and tingling, so light and careful. And Oikawa stopped pouting, his letdown frown turning into a slight teasing smile. “Like you promised that I wouldn’t be able to walk,” Suga reminded and Oikawa was full on grinning, pleased again.

“Then why wasn’t it the best you’ve ever had?” Oikawa asked in such a tone that Suga wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to know, if there was any real need for Oikawa to know.  

“It was nothing you did wrong,” Suga replied gently, with the sweetest small smile on his lips to convince to Oikawa that he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

“Is there something I should do more right then?” Oikawa looked at Suga steadily, turning on his side and sliding his hand over Suga’s side and waist to rest over his back, his fingers immediately traveling up and down in small movements over the knobs in Suga’s spine.

Suga didn’t answer right away, too distracted by Oikawa’s touch. He tried to ground himself back to the moment, his thoughts too easily focused on everything he was feeling thanks to the earth-shattering orgasm he’d experienced just a short while ago. In his efforts to stay with Oikawa and focus on their conversation, he trailed his forefinger back and forth over Oikawa’s collarbones, his foot repeating the motion up and down along Oikawa’s ankle.

“Not really,” Suga looked up from Oikawa’s collarbones to say. “It was just me.” The smile he flashed was shy, and he was sure there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I was nervous.”

And something must’ve clicked to Oikawa, like it often did for him when they were getting to know each other, when they were spending time with each other. Without even having to think about it all, every little aspect and hint Oikawa must’ve noticed, the thought probably just sprung to his mind.

“That’s why you were so sure it wouldn’t be the best sex,” he murmured under his breath, saying it more to himself than anyone else.

Suga shrunk a little between his shoulders as he inhaled deep, and then relaxed as he exhaled, a small smile reflected in his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed. “You make me nervous.”

Suga wondered what Oikawa thought of him then, what he would _do_ with this new information, with Suga who was acting so uncharacteristically shy in front of him. After all, Suga had brazenly announced that no socks were allowed during sex, he had passionately kissed him, had moaned and gasped with abandon. Somehow even in Suga’s own mind, shy didn’t mix or match with the confident side of him.

After a moment that felt longer to Suga than it was in real time, Oikawa chuckled and cupped Suga’s cheek to kiss him. “You don’t need to be nervous around me,” he whispered, and kissed Suga again, soft and lingering in a way that Suga could feel it all the way in his toes.

“I won’t be the next time.” Suga whispered back, a promise in his voice despite the slight waver due to the feeling of melting into the mattress and his soul leaving his body from hearing Oikawa’s soft reassurance.

“Next time?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows, trying to stifle his grin but unable to keep his smugness out of his voice.

“Next time,” Suga confirmed, coming back to himself as Oikawa was back to his usual smug self as well. He wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s neck to keep him close. “And a time after that, and time after that and a ti-“

Oikawa shut him up with a firm kiss and Suga giggled into it. He continued kissing Suga through it, along his jaw, down his neck, leaving more and more bruising kisses, playful nips and soft pecks the lower his mouth traveled, across his collarbones, his chest and abdomen. All the while, Suga was letting out gasps, soft sighs and light giggles.

He was too happy to do anything else but feel and he really did let himself _feel._

Even the tickles – that Oikawa tormented him with when he got tired of finding new places to leave hickeys, and that drove him to the foot of the bed – felt so much more than just ordinary tickles. They were electric and he was far too hypersensitive and aware of everything to fall asleep. Luckily for him, Oikawa didn’t seem tired out yet either.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga could still feel those kisses in the morning, the marks Oikawa’s lips, teeth and tongue had left on him, his skin decorated with red and purple like ink of a tattoo. He felt giddy when he thought about last night, as his fingers trailed absentmindedly across his torso, over the shirt he had haphazardly thrown on. He breathed soft sighs as he closed his eyes whenever his fingers came to touch a bruise he couldn’t see, but could definitely feel due to his hypersensitivity in delicious, tempting shivers and tingles.

He was still extremely highly sensitive to everything that was Oikawa and he could tell that his lo - boyfriend was up and walking around from hearing his soft footfalls. He didn’t look up to see Oikawa, but waited until he could feel his presence, his warmth next to him. He expected a ‘hello’ or a ‘good morning’ or maybe a kiss. What he didn’t expect was Oikawa hooking his finger under the collar of his shirt and pulling it down, surprising Suga completely.

“I think I have enough of them to last a lifetime,” Suga said quietly after the initial surprise, swallowing his gasp, but he still tilted his head a little to accommodate Oikawa adding another hickey to the collection he already had from last night.

Oikawa lifted his head up, his lips leaving a wet mark on Suga’s collarbone. “Can I see?” His tone accommodated his smirk and his hands went to the hem of Suga’s shirt with the intention of lifting it up. He didn’t lift it, though, and Suga knew he was more or less asking for a permission to do so.  

“No.” Suga looked up to Oikawa with a smirk of his own to tease him. Oh, how he loved how sleepy Oikawa still looked, how messy his ponytail was when it must’ve been quickly made. His heart stuttered with the visual, with the small detour his thoughts took when he really took in Oikawa’s appearance.

Predictably Oikawa pouted – Suga knew he would’ve liked to see his handiwork on Suga’s paler skin. “Please?”

Suga shook his head, knowing that the front door was unlocked, and if anyone else saw, the marks would be impossible to explain with anything else but blatant lies. “I’ll show you later.”

“They might be gone later.”

Suga let out an amused scoff. “I’m sure they won’t be,” he said surely as he turned slightly away from Oikawa and towards his phone when he remembered why he had gotten up from the bed in the first place. The bruises he had felt, the strain in the sore muscles that hadn’t lately gotten the exercise they got last night, had distracted him. And so had the coffee he had somehow thought of first to make.

“Was I too rough?” Oikawa removed his hands from Suga’s shirt and moved them to hold steady on Suga’s hips, to turn him back. His touch was warm, caring, and Suga softened at Oikawa’s concern.

“No,” he smiled sweetly at him, and put his hand on Oikawa’s cheek as he gave him a tender kiss on his lips. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Oikawa murmured with a smile against Suga’s lips before he sealed them together again, only to break apart when the damned device in Suga’s other hand demanded attention.

“I’m really starting to hate your phone,” Oikawa groaned. “I’m half-convinced that it’s trying to actively keep us apart just to ring whenever something remotely interesting is about to happen.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Suga laughed, knowing who the caller was without looking. He had had an inkling that she would call again at some point. “Do you want to answer?”

“No,” Oikawa answered automatically, but his eyes narrowed a second later. “Why?”

“Because she loves you,” Suga answered semi-cryptically with a sweet smile, and Oikawa caught on immediately, pushing the hand holding the phone away from him and closer to Suga.

“No, she’s your mom, calling _you.”_

Suga chuckled lightly and answered, “I’m not buying anything.” He didn’t let Oikawa resting his forehead with a resigned sigh on his shoulder disturb him in any way. Not at all, since no one could prove that he couldn’t feel the common contact and touch travel through his whole body through his nerve endings.

Akiko laughed on the other end, the sound light and delighted. “I’m not selling anything, darling. But I will send you so much love and hugs you’ll drown in them.”

“Sounds life threatening,” Suga said with zero inflection in his tone. He felt Oikawa lift his head up, and the next second he lightly slapped on Oikawa’s reaching hand, the fingers already tickling on his side. “Can I send them back?” He walked around the island to stay at an arm’s length away from mischievously smirking Oikawa so he wasn’t distracted anymore.

“Of course,” his mother giggled lightly. “How are you?”

“I’m well, mom.” Suga smiled as leaned on the stool, looking at Oikawa making faces at him. First he looked dramatically wounded with a hand on his chest and a shocked expression that his hand was slapped away and that Suga would walk away from him, then every bizarre expression he could come up with, probably just with the sole intention of making him laugh.

“I’m glad. I called you earlier too, but you didn’t answer. Were you still sleeping?”

“No, I noticed you called.”

The call had woken him up, and he had quickly gotten up and dressed, but the call had ended before he was ready to answer, and he had been in kitchen next to the coffee maker. So, naturally he had thought of Oikawa and made some coffee, and leaning to the counter and reaching for the coffee grounds had reminded him on his sore muscles and bruises. And then he had been busy with remembering last night. Which is why he had momentarily forgotten his mother’s call.

“You could’ve answered, or called me back.”

“Hmm, maybe.” Suga poked on Oikawa’s puffed cheek to make him release the air. He had barely heard a word of what his mother said, too amused by the different ways Oikawa could twist his face.

“Alright, be difficult,” Akiko said in such a way that Suga knew she wasn’t offended, more amused than disappointed.

“Okay, I will.” Suga saw Oikawa shake his head with an amused air in the gesture and in his smile, and he wondered how much Oikawa was hearing of what his mother was saying. “Why were you calling, mom?”

“To check on the preparations for Tooru’s graduation. You promised to send me the list of the people to invite so I can get on with the invitations.”

“I sent it to you yesterday.”

“Oh.” She didn’t sound at all surprised, and Suga wasn’t even a little bit fooled when he heard the tapping on a keyboard and the light clicks of a mouse, as if she was checking her email. “Oh, yes, there it is. I’m sorry I missed it.” Her voice was too light and airy for her to actually have missed it.

“Why do I have a feeling you only pretended to miss it so you could have a reason to call me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” his mother feigned ignorance. Suga could always tell with her when she was putting on a show. Others were easily fooled by her acting, but he had learned to hear and see the subtleties a long time ago.

“Is there something else you wanted to talk about then?” he offered kindly.

“Yes,” she grabbed the chance immediately. “Is Tooru there? I’d call him too, but if he’s there I don’t have to hang up to dial again.”

“He’s here.” Suga glanced at Oikawa, who was looking at him with big eyes, his hands cradling his cheeks squishing them a little. Suga had to stifle the sudden urge to laugh at the visual – it was too adorable and funny to look at with a straight face – and offered the phone to Oikawa. “The NPA wants to talk to you.”

Oikawa smiled at him instantly and accepted the phone with a delight. “Agent Sugawara, how are you this lovely morning? As beautiful as always?”

Suga looked at Oikawa, struggling to keep from laughing, as his boyfriend chirped on the phone. He didn’t really follow the conversation when he went to make himself a cup of tea, but couldn’t help but notice how happy Oikawa sounded as he talked with Akiko. It filled Suga with calm and happiness as well, to hear the overall joy Oikawa exuded.

“No, I think there’s definitely something wrong with him.”

Suga looked up from his cup of tea at the words, and just from the way Oikawa was grinning and looking at him, Suga could tell with certainty that they were talking about him.

“Give me the phone,” he demanded softly, holding his hand out for it.

Oikawa shook his head with a grin, continuing to talk with Akiko. “No, it’s fine, I’ll convince him to.”

Suga, tired of waiting for Oikawa to give his phone back, started to walk towards him, but Oikawa walked away from him, going round the island. Suga put his hands on his waist and sighed, assessing the situation. He decided to go after Oikawa, to try and be quicker than him to get the phone back.

But Oikawa continued around the island as well to keep the distance between them. Soon enough they were having their own bizarre little game of tag around the kitchen, laughing and changing the direction all of a sudden to try and surprise the other one that way.

Finally, after many rounds around the kitchen, Suga managed to catch up with Oikawa, climbing on the island and jumping on him from there, causing them both to topple to the floor with laughter, while Oikawa still tried to manage a conversation with Akiko.

Suga sat on Oikawa’s stomach to keep him in place and tried to take the phone, but Oikawa took his wrist in his hand and moved it as far back and to the side as possible. Suga, however, was persistent.

“Stop gossiping with her,” he laughed, trying to take the phone from Oikawa with his left hand. “You can’t indulge her like that.”

“But no one understands me like your mother does!” Oikawa cried out, moving the phone as far away as his arm could reach.

Suga heard his mother’s laugh as he tried to get to the phone, grabbling for it like he was trying to reach for a ledge if he was falling down from a roof of a tall building. “Just give me the phone already.” He couldn’t stop his own little chuckles escaping, due to frustration, exertion and the hilarity of the situation.

“No!” Oikawa said adamantly, resembling a mother bear protecting its cubs as Suga managed to grab his hand and then succeeded in wrenching the phone to himself.

“Mom,” Suga said, slightly out of breath. His mother was still laughing, and even if it warmed Suga to hear her sweet laughter, he needed to hang up. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, darling,” she replied happily and Suga hung up with a sigh, his limbs free as Oikawa immediately gave up when the phone was stolen from him.

“Now I’m sad.” Oikawa pouted, his arms crossed over his chest. “Why would you do that?”

“You’re not allowed to talk to her anymore,” Suga offered the simple explanation without actually explaining further and fluidly rolled off of Oikawa’s stomach.

“Why?” Oikawa whined, thoroughly given up and motionlessly lying on the floor.

“Because you’re not allowed to gossip about me,” Suga said with a smile. He wasn’t too opposed to Oikawa talking with his mother about him, or just talking with her in general. It was the gossiping he couldn’t stand by.

“We weren’t gossiping,” Oikawa spoke with a disappointed pout.

“Yes, you were.” Suga chuckled with his statement and put the phone down on the island when he returned to his cup of tea. When Oikawa still hadn’t risen from the floor after a half of the cup was already drank, Suga leaned on the top of it with his arms and looked over it. “Are you ever going to get up?” he inquired lightly, still amused by everything.

“No.” Oikawa sounded like a toddler that was about to have a temper tantrum if he wasn’t given what he wanted or permitted to do as he pleased.

Suga leaned back with a chuckle. “Okay, suit yourself. It is a nice floor after all. And you have the crumbs to keep you company.”

“Ah, there he is, Crumb One, and his distant relative Crumb Two.” Oikawa spoke lifelessly. “I like her new haircut, it frames her face quite nicely. Oh! And there’s the triplets Mr and Mrs Crumb had. What a cute little trio.”

Suga kept silently chuckling, stopping and starting with every other word that Oikawa said. By the end he was struggling to balance his tea cup so he wouldn’t empty the contents all over himself or the kitchen floor.  

“Oh my! It’s the Crumb Prince, dressed in purple as always!” Suga heard Oikawa exclaim suddenly, as if he was truly delighted. “I think they’re my new roommates,” Oikawa spoke with new excitement.

Suga put his cup down on the counter, to make sure he didn’t accidentally burn himself with the hot water, and made his way around the island back to Oikawa, to see him animatedly talking to non-existent crumbs. He tilted his head as he looked down to Oikawa and rested his hand on the island, almost leaning to it but not quite, his other hand on his waist.

“Please get up from the floor?” he requested with a smile, amused but also getting a little worried about the possibility of Oikawa getting deranged if he made anymore friends with non-existent crumbs.

“No.” Oikawa’s tone was firm.

“Please?” Suga pleaded softly, his voice kind and sweet and fluffy as candy floss on purpose to make Oikawa comply. He sat down on Oikawa then, this time straddling Oikawa’s legs, his muscles protesting against the effort to grouch down. “Pretty please.”

Oikawa turned thoughtful, seemingly thinking about it, his fingers walking slowly up on Suga’s thighs. “What will you give me if I get up?”

Suga raised his eyebrows in slight incredulity. “You want me to bribe you to get up?”

Oikawa made a shrugging motion, but Suga knew he was being serious.

“Okay,” he took a deep breath as he thought. “I’ll...” He looked around as he tried to think of something. “I’ll never make fun of you for thinking that aliens exist.”

“I don’t _think_ they exist,” Oikawa corrected him. “I _know_ they exist.”

Suga bit back his mischievous smile and cupped Oikawa’s cheeks with his hands. “I won’t make fun of you for _thinking_ that they exist.”

Oikawa made a noise that landed somewhere between “are you kidding me”, “why are you like this”, and “aliens please come and save me”.

“Why must you be mean to me?”

“Because you’re dork.” Suga removed his hands from Oikawa’s cheeks, gently sliding them down his neck to his chest.

Oikawa whined and, in Suga’s opinion exaggerated his pout, looking away. “So mean.”

Suga smiled softly at him, his fingers slowly tracing on Oikawa’s collarbones, the slightly frayed collar of his worn t-shirt. “But I like your dorkiness,” he spoke softly, to get his sincerity across.

Oikawa turned his eyes back to him, their gaze suddenly intense. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Suga could feel how Oikawa was trying to read him, to read his thoughts.

He straightened a little, just in time so Oikawa didn’t head-butt him as he sat up in one swift move.

“You’re really smooth at times.” Suga was glad that they had avoided the collision and loosely draped his arms around Oikawa’s shoulders.

Oikawa tilted his head knowingly to the side, grinning smugly. “I know,” he whispered, simultaneously leaning in for a kiss.

He was forced to break the kiss that was more demanding and passionate than gentle and soft, when they heard the front door open.

“Whoever thought it was a good idea to have us interrupted all the time is insane,” Oikawa said under his breath, low enough that only Suga could hear it. He was grateful that they were shielded by the island so whoever it was didn’t see how they were sitting, or well, how he was straddling Oikawa.

“Suga?” Tanaka’s voice asked. “Are you home? Or awake?”

Suga smiled apologetically to Oikawa as he sat down next to him on the floor, legs crossed, while Oikawa leaned back on his hands, his ankles casually crossed.

“I’m here,” he replied to Tanaka, and quickly fixed the collar of Oikawa’s shirt to hide the bruise he had sucked there. He felt regretful too that they were interrupted, already missing the way Oikawa’s fingers had felt threaded through his hair.

A few seconds later Tanaka’s head came to view from behind the island. He looked at them for a moment, and they looked back waiting. “Do I ask or...?” he trailed off, looking between them with a blank expression, as if he wasn’t all that surprised to find them sitting on the floor.

“We thought we’d befriend the crumbs,” Suga answered, just as blankly, making a vague gesture at the floor.

“I’m pretty sure there are a couple of dust bunnies here as well,” Oikawa added, looking around him on the floor.

“Maybe you should clean up then,” Tanaka suggested. “Keeps the unwanted guests away.”

“Or we could stop cleaning and that’ll keep the other unwanted guests away.” Oikawa quipped back with a smirk.

Suga lightly slapped him on the thigh to reprimand him, and then looked up to Tanaka. “Did you need something? You were asking for me.”

“Could we talk?”

“Of course,” Suga replied with an easy smile. He was always up for a conversation with Tanaka.

But Tanaka looked at Oikawa, and Suga understood. “Alone?” he guessed, and Tanaka nodded.

“There’s this new place close by I’ve wanted to check out. Do you want to come with me?” Suga asked as he stood up, leaving Oikawa behind on the floor.

Tanaka nodded again.

His silence was a little unnerving and Suga was sure he had never witnessed him this quiet – serious, yes when the situation absolutely called for it, but never speechless like this.

“Are you just going to leave me alone on the floor like this?” Oikawa called after him.

“Yes.” Suga smiled playfully over his shoulder. “Enjoy the view.” He knew where Oikawa’s eyes would be as he walked away, and he heard the telltale chuckle that he was right. “I’ll just grab my camera,” he told to Tanaka.

By the time he was ready – still dressed in pajamas but with a hoodie on so no one could really tell whether his casual look was just lazy or his pajamas – Oikawa was pouring himself a cup of coffee, while Tanaka leaned on the wall by the front door. He made the detour on his way to the door by swinging over to Oikawa.

“I’ll be back later,” he gave a vague timeframe, not knowing how long he would be gone, as he placed his hand on Oikawa’s lower back.

Oikawa nodded in response and turned his head to give him a quick kiss, which Tanaka wouldn’t see from where he was waiting. “See you later then.”

Oikawa slapped Suga’s ass as he was walking away, and Suga playfully narrowed his eyes as he sternly glanced over his shoulder at the contentedly smirking Oikawa.

 

 

...

 

 

The park was busy, people walking through it on their way wherever it was, when Suga and Tanaka got there. Of course there was no ‘new place’ he had wanted to check out. But he liked the park, even with people there, it offered a sense of calm to Suga. And he felt like the conversation with Tanaka might need it. Or maybe alcohol, but they could get to that later if it became a necessity.

They had spent their short walk in silence, Tanaka looking at the ground in front of them the whole way, while Suga’s concern grew. He couldn’t _not_ ask once they sat down on the last free bench, once he knew they could talk in peace.

“What’s going on?” Suga asked in a voice just slightly higher than a whisper. Even though the park didn’t and couldn’t have had the magic ears that their building had, Suga was careful and wanted to ease Tanaka into talking. He could tell that Tanaka didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation.  

Tanaka took a deep breath, and held it in for an alarmingly long time before he let it out in a long sigh, as if he had forgotten how to breathe. “I’m nervous about Noya’s party tomorrow.”

Suga had to think about Tanaka response for a moment -  Tanaka? Nervous about a party? There was something off in the universe, he was sure of it now.

“Why?” he asked softly to understand, searching for Tanaka’s eyes that were steadfastly staring at the ground. “You’re usually so outgoing, the life of every party once you get your shirt off.”

There was a small curl on Tanaka’s lips that Suga counted as a small victory.

“It’s just –“ Tanaka cut himself off and exhaled shortly through his nose, as if he was frustrated with himself, that he couldn’t say what he wanted to say. Annoyed with whatever it was that was keeping the words inside him. “Noya’s throwing the party for me, for me to meet someone.” He spoke to the ground, fast and hard.

“I know.”

Tanaka took another deep breath, and let it out softly this time.

“He’s throwing it for me to meet someone.”

“Right,” Suga nodded.

“What if... What if...” Tanaka fumbled and finally looked to Suga, serious as a grave, as if this was a real house of horrors he was facing. “What if someone asks me out, or for my number?”

“Then you say yes or give your number to them if you fancy them or think you might enjoy spending some time with them,” Suga said softly. “And if you don’t feel like doing any of that, you tell them thank you but no, and if they’re really rude about it, you give them a fake number to get rid of them or throw your drink in their face.”

Tanaka suppressed his smile, his mouth pursing weirdly all over the place – apparently he didn’t want to be amused at the moment, the matter was deadly serious to him, but Suga couldn’t help but alleviate the mood a little.

“But what if...” Tanaka trailed off and turned in his seat, sideways and legs crossed on the bench to fully look at Suga. “Let’s say I go out with someone, and they find out that I’ve –“ Tanaka bit his bottom lip, looking away insecurely.

“You’re worried what they might think once they find out you haven’t had sex before?” Suga asked, knowing he was guessing correctly but being careful about it.

Tanaka looked to him and nodded, just a single bob of his head, still biting his lip.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell them.”

“But what if they guess.” Tanaka’s brow was furrowed with worry and Suga smiled to reassure him. “When I fumble and don’t know what to do.” He was wringing his hands in his lap. “When I don’t know how condoms work.”

“Okay,” Suga placed his hands on Tanaka’s to stop his nervous fidgeting. “The condom thing, you can practice. I’ll buy you a packet of condoms if you want to practice rolling them on –“

Tanaka sputtered at the idea, but Suga kept going as if he wasn’t just interrupted.

“And the fumbling is fine, it comes because of the nerves. You just have to be confident. Or, they understand that it’s your first time and help you through it.”

“What if they laugh?”

“They’re not going to laugh,” Suga denied immediately, shaking his head a little and looking straight into Tanaka’s eyes to make sure he got that he was serious.

But Tanaka was too far in his head with his insecurities. “Suga, I’m twenty-five years old and a virgin. They’re going to laugh,” he stated, sounding too sure about it for Suga’s liking. “They’re going to think it’s sad and pathetic that I’m still a virgin.”

“Then you laugh with them. Or you ask them to leave,” Suga mentioned the no-brainer, but kindly so he didn’t spook Tanaka or cause him to retreat further into his unusual shell of insecurities and uncertainties. “Or you leave, depending on where you are,” he added after a shrug.

“But I doubt whoever you’re going to have sex with is going to laugh or think that you’re pathetic. They might even be really considerate of your feelings and be patient and take good care of you if they know it’s your first time. My suggestion though, is to leave if they’re nothing but sweet towards you about it.”

Tanaka moved his eyes slowly to look at Suga while he listened, and Suga ended with a soft smile to reassure him.

“However, with all this said,” Suga started again, but stopped for a second when his focus was pulled to the octopus kite just a little away from them in the cleared area of the park, and the continued while he watched the tentacles slither in the air. “I don’t think you should just jump to have sex with the first person that seems interested in you just because you’re twenty-five and want to lose your virginity. Age is a ridiculous reason to have sex anyway. I think you should know the partner, to know that they’ll make you feel safe and comfortable. It’s important to feel safe on your first time. Otherwise you’ll just look back to it in horror.”

Tanaka was silent, so Suga looked back to him when he added, simultaneously making a mental note to find out where he could get an octopus kite too, “that’s my opinion at least.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?” Tanaka asked quietly, glancing at him cautiously.

Suga wasn’t sure what to say. In a way he was speaking from personal experience. What was supposed to be his first time with someone hadn’t turned out to be that way since he had fled the scene, and what had become his first time he had felt safe. But did Tanaka need to know that?

The way Tanaka was looking so uncertain, and in a way _small_ , made Suga sigh softly as he made the decision not to enlighten Tanaka about his own experiences. Instead, he continued to assure Tanaka with some sound advice he had heard himself numerous times on TV shows and movies, things that Tanaka had probably heard himself as well, but it never hurt to repeat the ‘oh so helpful advice and wisdom’.

“Sex is instinct, it’s just feeling and letting yourself go with it. If you think too much about it, too much during it, you might not be able to enjoy it.”

“I think I’ve heard that somewhere,” Tanaka narrowed his eyes a little as he spoke, looking away a little as if he was trying to remember where he had heard it before.

“I’m sure you have,” Suga affirmed lightly, but decided to elaborate a little. “If there’s something you’d want to do, you should say it to the person you’re having sex with, or show them. No one reads minds during sex. Maybe once you get used to each other, and after a lot of times that you’ve had sex with that one person, you learn what they like, and they learn what you like, you figure out each other’s idiosyncrasies and so on, everything happens smoothly without too much communication.”

Suga stopped to take a deep breath before he continued, glad that Tanaka didn’t interrupt him with questions before he was done.

“What works with someone, might not work with someone else. People like different things, in different ways. What one might like, the next might not. There’s a learning curve in everything, even sex with someone, no matter how good you might be at it. So, if you’re going to have sex with someone who’s had a lot of sex, according to their own words, don’t be fooled when they try to convince you that something feels nice, when you don’t feel that way.”

“Did you learn that from sex with Akaashi and Terushima? And Konoha too, right?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sex god who’s amazing in bed.” Suga smiled a little, actually thinking about last night with Oikawa.

Tanaka chuckled. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? Because I talk about sex without blushing?” Suga raised his eyebrows high as he asked, but quickly waved it away with his hand. “That’s my mom’s fault,” he continued more casually. “But just because everyone seems to come to me when they want advice on sex, doesn’t mean I’m a senpai.”

“Come on.” Tanaka pushed on Suga’s shoulder, as if he didn’t believe what Suga just said, as if he thought that Suga was just joking about the guru-thing.

“I mean it,” Suga spoke seriously but with a kind smile. “They stayed because of my personality, not my prowess in bed.”

Tanaka laughed at that, and Suga joined him with his own light chuckles. He couldn’t tell from Tanaka’s behavior if he was even a little bit less nervous about Noya’s party, or about sex in general. But he hoped he had managed to alleviate at least some of Tanaka’s nerves.

“Sugawara-san!”

Suga looked towards the voice in surprise, and saw Takeda jogging towards him with a wide smile. “Here for inspiration?” The man pushed his glasses higher on his nose as he stopped by the bench.

“Something like that,” Suga nodded, feeling a little abashed by his agent’s sudden appearance. He looked at the man trailing behind Takeda uncertainly, and he must’ve noticed it.

“This is Ennoshita Chikara, my new assistant,” Takeda introduced the smartly dressed man immediately, who bowed to both Suga and Tanaka.

“I didn’t know you had an assistant,” Suga said after he reciprocated Ennoshita’s respect, wondering how much of it was needed since he had met the man before on numerous occasions  (they were on first name basis, for crying out loud), just not as Takeda’s assistant.

“It’s new. Keishin finally convinced me to get an extra head and a set of hands so I won’t be so busy with handling all my clients. This doesn’t diminish my involvement with any of them, of course, don’t worry.”

Suga smiled assuredly at Takeda, for he hadn’t even thought about it like that. But it was good that Takeda was getting help with his work, the man had been ridiculously busy lately, juggling too many clients to count with two hands.

“We were just on our way to see Yamaguchi-kun,” Takeda said then.

“If you feel inclined to do so, please tell him I said hi.”

“Of course.” Takeda nodded to confirm his words as if it was given. “Which reminds me, we should schedule a meeting soon, I want to hear about the comment cards.”

Suga was struck with the memory of them, still unread and sitting in the bag somewhere in his room. “Right, sure,” he smiled confidently though. He really should get to reading them soon, but life had kept happening and the cards had been pushed out of his mind.

“Remind me to set it up.” Takeda turned to his assistant, who dutifully jotted it down to the tablet he was holding and nodded as a confirmation once he was done. He appeared very proper and focused. However, Suga noticed that he had been looking at Tanaka before that, for a long time. Almost inappropriately long time.

“Good, we should keep going then,” Takeda said decidedly, and off they went without a chance for Suga to reciprocate the goodbyes. They seemed to be in a hurry, maybe already late to the meeting, and Suga wasn’t exactly surprised about this bit, not in the least.

When Suga was sure the suddenly appeared duo had walked far enough so they couldn’t hear them anymore, he turned to Tanaka. “Do you know him?”

“Who?” Tanaka asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “Your agent? I met him at your exhibit.”

“I meant the assistant, Chikara-kun.”

“Oh,” Tanaka breathed and looked towards where the two men had disappeared to. “No. Why? Do you know him?”

“I’ve seen him before, yes,” Suga answered calmly. He pondered whether to tell Tanaka how Ennoshita had been looking at him, if Tanaka had noticed it himself.

“Where?” Tanaka looked surprised when he turned back to him.

“He’s come to my exhibits, introduced himself. He studied art, wanted to own or manage an art gallery, and works, or I guess he used to work, at the MOMAT.”

Tanaka looked dubious. “How do you know all that?”

“He told me.”

“Right, of course.” Tanaka shook his head as if he couldn’t believe he didn’t think of that.

Suga bit his lip as he thought for the last time if he should... “I have his number –“

“Why?” Tanaka interrupted. “How?”

Suga smiled patiently, knowingly. “He gave it to me way back when he first introduced himself to me, when he first offered platitudes about my photos. I could send him an invitation to the party tomorrow if you want.”

“Why would you do that?”

“He’s handsome, right?”

“I guess.” Tanaka shrugged, but the feeling wasn’t in it. He wasn’t _just guessing._

”Or I could set you on a date with him, if you like.”

It was something Suga had wondered upon before for years, if he could or should set Tanaka up with Ennoshita, but had always decided to just stay away and not meddle in Tanaka’s love life. The farthest he had felt comfortable going into Tanaka’s love life had been answering the man’s questions about Shimizu, the great and all-consuming crush that she had been to Tanaka.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” Tanaka looked shocked, to say the least.

“Glad you finally caught up.” Suga patted his shoulder, pleased and smiling. “So?”

“Um,” Tanaka scratched his head, seeming uncharacteristically uncertain and almost timid once again. But Suga let him come to his decision on his own, waiting silently and patiently. “The party’s better. I mean, it’ll make Noya happy, right?” Tanaka looked at him, checking on his reaction to his assumption. “The more people come to his party...” he trailed off.

Suga smiled, proud and a little amused. “I suppose.”

Tanaka nodded once, seemingly coming to a decision. “Okay, then.”

Suga nodded as well, but turned slightly worried about Tanaka’s reasons to bring up their initial topic of conversation when a thought came to him. “You know, you don’t _have to_ have sex if it makes you uncomfortable. Kenma and Shouyou don’t and they’re in a happy relationship.”

“No, no,” Tanaka quickly denied it, motioning with his hands in front of him. “They’re asexual and I’m not, so it’s different. I’m not uncomfortable about it. Just...” He trailed off, and Suga assumed he was looking for the correct, fitting word. “I’m just nervous.” Tanaka finished sheepishly after a while.

“That’s okay,” Suga reassured him in a kind, warm voice to make sure he got that it was perfectly natural to feel so. He could hardly blame Tanaka for feeling nervous, when he had been nervous himself about having sex with Oikawa. In a way, he could relate. “It’s okay to be nervous. But you shouldn’t worry about it the way you’ve been worrying. Just trust your instincts, and afterwards you’re going to wonder why on earth you were so nervous in the first place.”

“Is that how it was for you?” Tanaka asked, a small smile warming up his expression.

But his smile didn’t assure Suga or warm him up. He looked up at the trees, and followed with his eyes how the branches bent with the soft wind, while his fingers were busy with fiddling with the strap on his camera.

“Suga?” Tanaka spoke softly, and when Suga looked back to him, he saw how curious the man was.

“Do you feel like the longer you’re a virgin, the harder it is to let go of it?” Suga whispered, now more afraid than before that the by passers would take interest in their conversation.

“Yes,” Tanaka admitted as quietly.

“I knew how that felt.” Suga smiled sympathetically and looked away again. “But once you’ve had sex for the first time, it won’t really feel like you’ve lost something.”

“Where are you going with this?” Tanaka’s voice was colored with confusion. “Are you going to try and tell me how amazing it’ll be when I have sex for the first time?” His voice lost the confusion and it turned derisive.

“No,” Suga answered patiently with a warm smile. “It’s for you to find out what it’s like when you’re ready to.” He met Tanaka’s eyes and the question hidden there. “Everyone’s experience is different, although a lot of them could be put into a same category. You’ll make your own opinion too after your own experience.”

Tanaka nodded and it was his turn to look away. Suga let him think whatever it was that he was thinking, their silence undisturbed even when there were other people walking past them, some of them curiously glancing at them.

“Was your first time amazing? Are you in that group of people?”

Suga barely heard Tanaka’s question, but he smiled softly before he answered. He took his time before he answered, even though he had his answer at ready immediately.

“It was overwhelming.”

And the sex had continued to be overwhelming ever since. Especially now with Oikawa, when he felt so strongly about the man.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa sighed, stretching his arms high over his head as he took a short, too short, breather from his studying. He realized his hair was still open when he felt it tickle his neck as he tilted his head to get rid of the beginning kinks in his shoulders. With another sigh he pulled the hair tie off his wrist and bit it between his teeth while he used his both hands to gather his hair up.

He heard the door open in the middle of his task, and he turned to see who was interrupting his calm, if maybe, hopefully, Suga had come home already.

But to his disappointment it was only Hinata and Nishinoya, sporting similar little ponytails were their bangs were gathered and bobbing along to their steps.

“Oikawa-san,” Hinata started as soon as he saw him, and Oikawa followed the young man with suspicious eyes as he neared the kitchen. From his tone, Oikawa could tell they wanted something.

“We’re hungry.”

Oikawa frowned, finishing his ponytail, and he glanced at Nishinoya who had followed Hinata to the kitchen. “Okay?” He pretended to be clueless of where this was heading towards.

“Can you make us some food?” Hinata asked with a happy smile, looking at him expectantly.

Oikawa snorted and went back to reading, thinking that was a sufficient answer.

But he was to find out that Hinata and Nishinoya were nothing but persistent, and had very effective puppy eyes. They lowered so their hands were on the island top, rested their chins on them, and looked up to him like they were little kittens with big eyes begging for food, pouting a little.

“I can braid your hair,” Hinata suggested. “As a favor. I’ve been practicing with Kenma’s hair for years, and before that with my little sister. I’m really good at it.”

“Nice try,” Oikawa grinned.  He wasn’t objecting Hinata’s skills at braiding – he had seen the braids on Kenma now and then – he just wasn’t up to cooking for the two. Besides he kind of wanted to get rid of the two, in case Suga came home soon.

“Please?” Nishinoya asked, blinking slowly. There was something cunning in his slight grin that Oikawa didn’t trust at all.

“No,” he declined more sternly and tried his best to ignore the two who made a remarkable appearance of puppies begging him for food. “How are you even home at this time?” It was the middle of the day – they should either be at school or work.

“I have a day off,” Nishinoya answered easily.

“School’s over,” was Hinata’s just as simple answer.

“Already?” Oikawa had to take a moment to figure out what day it was, what _month_ it was. “How is it already over?”

Hinata shrugged, unbothered but still sporting the puppy eyes.

And Oikawa had to admit they were starting to work on him. “How was the graduation?” he asked, hoping to distract them, and him as well so he didn’t give in to the overpowering pull of the large puppy eyes.

Hinata shrugged again, but with a smirk that told Oikawa all he needed to know. “I just went out with friends afterwards.”

“How come no one here wanted to throw you a party the next day?” Oikawa wondered out loud. Wasn’t the partying after anything that happened in their lives official at this point? No matter what someone achieved, whether it was a new job, becoming older or anything really, there was always a celebration, and it was always in their apartment, _their home._ “I didn’t miss it, did I?” he checked anyway.

“I didn’t want one,” Hinata answered and quickly moved onto a topic that seemed much more important to him. “Can you please make us food?”

“Yes, please feed us,” Nishinoya added with his own cuteness that was more cunning than Hinata’s soft way was.

However, it was effective and Oikawa was about three seconds away from giving in when the front door opened again, and they all heard the familiar and happy greeting from Suga.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Oikawa smiled at the greeting, at the thought that Suga had adapted his words whenever he came home, always jokingly calling Suga ‘honey’.

 

 

...

 

 

“Suga!” Noya shouted excitedly as he and Hinata jumped up from behind the kitchen island and ran over to him like two excited puppies.

“Can you make us some food?” Hinata asked with his eyes wide and voice sweet.

“Are you too lazy to do it yourself?” Suga asked with an amused smile as he took his shoes off. His smile softened for a second as he locked eyes with Oikawa above the kids’ heads.

“Your food is so much better than ours,” Nishinoya piped in.

Suga looked at them both with a soft smile. “Okay,” he nodded. “What do you want?”

Three minutes later, after two too many rounds of Hinata and Nishinoya bouncing ideas of each other, Suga had rolled up his sleeve and was searching for ingredients in the fridge while the other two waited in the living room. He wasn’t overly concerned of how they were spending their time waiting, but wasn’t surprised at all when he noticed what they were watching.

“You’re too soft for them,” Oikawa commented in a low voice from behind him, so Suga took a look over his shoulder.

“Just because I like to cook for them doesn’t mean I’m soft,” he replied softly, going back to his scavenger hunt for leftovers he could turn into a feasible lunch. “I bet they asked you too.”

“They did. I said no.”

Suga crossed the kitchen to set up on the island, putting everything in his hands down with care.

“I wanted to spend more time with you, _alone,_ ” Oikawa stressed the last word. “I was hoping that refusing to cook for them would get rid of them.”

Suga smiled at Oikawa’s desire to spend time with him _alone,_ but kept his eyes on his task. “You just wanted to have more sex,” he whispered so no one in the living room overheard them.

“How is that wrong?” Oikawa had an affronted expression on, his posture defensive.

“I’m not saying it’s wrong.” Suga locked eyes with Oikawa. “But can you give my ass a break after the hardcore butt bounding it got last night?”

Oikawa sputtered the water he had been drinking all over the kitchen island, his shirt sufficiently as wet in some places.

“What’s wrong?” Hinata asked immediately, his head popping up from behind the couch, looking at them with some concern, but Suga couldn’t stop snickering at Oikawa’s reaction, laughing a little bit harder and harder with every passing second, with every breath he took. He was doubled over and hanging onto the edge of the island with his hands as he tried to compose himself,  a feat proven impossible when he couldn’t unsee Oikawa’s reaction over and over again.

“Why’s Suga laughing?” Nishinoya’s voice was filled with suspicion, but there was underlying curiosity in it too that guided him and Hinata to the kitchen.

Oikawa tried to nudge Suga as he passed him on his way to fetch a rag to dry up the mess he had made, but Suga was too preoccupied with his laughter to really fully notice the light push.

“What’s so funny?” Hinata asked from Suga.

Suga tried his best to regulate his breathing, deep breath in, slow out, to stop his laughing. “Nothing,” he patted Hinata’s shoulder as he righted himself.

“Suga made a joke too sexy for me to handle,” Oikawa whined under his breath as he wiped the island top.

Nishinoya perked up, quickly jumping to sit on the now dry island. “What kind of joke? I want to hear a sexy joke.”

Suga’s eyes widened, to be dramatic, and covered Hinata’s ears. “Shh,” he shushed Nishinoya. “No talking about sex in front of the kids.”

“It’s okay, Suga-san,” Hinata assured with a wide smile, tilting his chin up to see up over his head to Suga.

“He’s used to it,” Nishinoya added nonchalantly from his squat on top of the island.

“He’d have to be when he spends so much time with you,” Suga pointed out and dropped his hands on Hinata’s shoulders.

“What’s the big deal here?” Oikawa looked at them all in turn, the rag replaced by the sink and he had returned to his seat. “Why can’t I talk about sex in front of Hinata?”

“First of all, they’re kids,” Suga started with the most important point. “Second of all –“ he paused as Hinata left the kitchen and returned to the living room. “Second of all, there’s an unspoken joke that no one brings up sex when they’re around. It’s not needed as a rule, but it’s fun to pretend we’re practically in PG-12 audience with them around,” he finished with his voice lowered so it wouldn’t carry over to the couch.  

Oikawa’s brow was furrowed, the way it was whenever he was confused. “And with ‘they’ you mean Hinata and Kenma?”

Suga smiled a small, soft smile. “And Noya when we want to tease him.”

Nishinoya’s calm expression took a turn to irritated, but it slowly morphed again to a hint of smugness when Oikawa glanced towards the living room and the couch which Hinata had disappeared behind.

“How haven’t I noticed until now?” Oikawa wondered with a frown.

“That’s what I’m wondering too,” Nishinoya snickered.

“No one ever talks about it so I’m not surprised,” Suga shrugged to ease Oikawa’s frown with nonchalance. It really wasn’t a big deal, and he wasn’t surprised that Oikawa hadn’t noticed before since he was mostly occupied by his studies.

“Now, get down so I can finish your lunch.” Suga nudged on Nishinoya who gladly jumped down.

“By the way, you two are coming to the party tomorrow,” Nishinoya stated as if it was a done deal, not even a smidgen of a request in his voice.

“Can I plead with you one more time that you don’t have the party here?” Suga countered, continuing with the cooking where he had left off. He didn’t exactly want to go to the party, and he kind of didn’t want it to happen in his apartment. Although, after his talk with Tanaka, he had a feeling that maybe he should be present in case the man needed someone there who knew at least a little what he was going through.

“Everyone’s already invited _here,_ so no, you can’t,” Nishinoya said decisively.

Suga sighed and looked to Oikawa, who was busy reading again, but shrugged in response as if he could sense that Suga was looking at him.

“So, I’ll come by early tomorrow to set everything up, is that okay?” Nishinoya checked.

“Now you ask if it’s okay?” Oikawa asked incredulously, glancing up from his reading. “How thoughtful of you,” he finished sarcastically, which made Suga smile. He had a certain tone whenever he was sarcastic, and for some reason it always made Suga smile with amusement when he heard it.

“I’m asking in case the front door is going to be locked again,” Nishinoya said pointedly, looking at them with that sly calculating way he sometimes got in his eyes when he was as suspicious as he was sure about something.

“The door will be open, Noya,” Suga said calmly, pushing him towards the living room. “Now shoo, you’re in the way.”

Nishinoya did go, but with a grin that Suga wasn’t sure what to think about.

“Does he know?” Oikawa whispered, his focus on his studying, his cheek leaning on his hand.

“I’m not sure,” Suga admitted slowly, wondering if Nishinoya really did know, hoping that he didn’t have any tangible proof, at least not yet. Maybe Tanaka had told Nishinoya that he had seen them the other day on their ‘date’.

While he finished the lunch for everyone, he actively tried not to think about the way Nishinoya had asked about the locked door. He knew that worrying about it would just induce unwanted stress, something he really wanted to avoid when he was already stressing about the fact that they were so actively trying to hide their beginning relationship from their friends.  

“Food’s ready!” he announced to the living room just in time for a third party to enter.

“Kenma!” Hinata shouted excitedly when he noticed his boyfriend come in, swallowed by a hoodie that reached his knees, and three sets of footsteps pattered to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Suga-san,” Hinata said with a happy smile as he took his plate.

“Yeah, thanks,” Nishinoya added after him, following in Hinata’s footsteps back to the living room.

Kenma nodded his thanks and Suga smiled in response. He looked at the trio sitting around the coffee table, shoulder to shoulder as they enjoyed their meal while they watched One Piece. He was sure they had continued from where they had left off the night before. He thought about joining them, fixing a plate for himself as well after he placed one in front of Oikawa.

Oikawa looked up in surprise when he noticed the addition next to his book.

“Eat,” Suga urged softly and went to sit next to him.

It was a quiet affair, in a way, to eat next to Oikawa who was focused on reading, and hearing the Straw Hat Pirates in the background. Suga finished his own meal quickly and moved on to clean up after the cooking. He kept glancing now and then at Oikawa, wondering if they were disturbing him.

“Busy studying?” he asked when he dried his wet hands on the kitchen towel, dishes, except the ones in the living room, done and ingredients and leftovers put back to where they belong.

“Mm-hm,” Oikawa replied, leaning his cheek into his hand, eyes moving along the lines in the book, his hand holding idle chopsticks where the ramen was slipping off. “Won’t be later. We can have sex then,” he added quietly.

“I’m swooning,” Suga said sarcastically, and noticed the way Oikawa smiled at it. “What do you want to do tomorrow?” Suga moved closer to the island to keep his voice low so the happy trio couldn’t hear them over the anime they were transfixed on.

“Not be here for the party,” Oikawa answered straightaway.

“Want to go out?”

“Sure,” Oikawa replied a little distractedly and Suga wondered if he had truly registered the question, or that he had answered to it.

Suga smiled though, shaking his head at the distracted and simultaneously focused Oikawa, and reached for his phone as he sat back down.

 

_Are you busy tomorrow?_

He texted to Daichi. Maybe they could go and hang with Daichi and Iwaizumi, who he was certain were going to avoid Nishinoya’s party as well.

Daichi’s answer came almost immediately.

 

_If Noya asks, yes. Otherwise, no_

 

Suga smiled at the message and glanced at Nishinoya, purely out of instinct.

_Want to hang out? Haven’t done that for a while_

 

Suga busied himself watching Oikawa study while he waited for Daichi’s answer, and he rested his cheek on his arms that were crossed on the island. He was always impressed by the focus Oikawa had, and he noted the air of confidence Oikawa carried no matter what he did that sometimes bordered on smugness. He smiled when he saw the way Oikawa’s ponytail was loose and threatening to unravel soon, his hands itching to tighten it. His eyes moved slowly along the familiar features of Oikawa, down his graceful neck and even further along his strong arms to his hands, that Suga had only recently learned to appreciate with the delicate and soft way they could touch and simultaneously possessively hold onto something.

The notification of a new message tore his attention to his phone and he reluctantly looked away from Oikawa.

 

_Sure. Want to come here so you can avoid the party Noya’s throwing?_

 

Suga answered immediately, taking Daichi up on his offer.

_YES!_

 

He could imagine the way Daichi would’ve laughed at that as he thought to add:

_Is it cool if we both come?_

 

 _We both???_  Daichi wrote back.

 

_Me and Tooru_

 

It took a long time for Daichi to answer, and Suga wasn’t sure what to think as he turned the phone over and over in his hands. What could possibly cause Daichi to take his time? Did he go somewhere or do something so he wasn’t by his phone? Was he deliberating on whether Oikawa could come too? Suga felt the urge to shudder at the thought that there would be something wrong between Oikawa and Daichi. He didn’t even want to think about that possibility.

“Whoa!” Hinata exclaimed in loud amazement, reacting to something he most likely saw on the screen. Suga spared only a fraction of a second to glance at Hinata when he recovered from the mini heart attack he had experienced from the loud yell before Oikawa spoke.

“I’m going to my room to study,” he said as he got up. Suga nodded with understanding, watching with slight regret that Oikawa was retreating to his own sanctuary of a room, filled with peace and quiet. He couldn’t help but wonder if Oikawa would’ve gone to study if Nishinoya and the co. wasn’t in the apartment, if they were alone, just the two of them.

He didn’t get to think too long on it, when Daichi finally replied.

 

_No_

 

Suga felt his heart sink when he read the word. He put his phone away with screen down and looked towards the hallway, and to the bedrooms that lay beyond that, thinking hard on what might’ve happened, wondering hopelessly what to think of it all.

He hoped there was someone he could ask for more information to enlighten him about the situation that had somehow come to be without his knowledge, and a name came quite quickly to him. Making the decision of paying a visit to his neighbors upstairs, he took a quick look down to check what he was wearing, and with a shrug decided that if it was fine for him to wear it outside, he could go upstairs in the pajamas and a hoodie as well.

“Noya,” he called to his attention. “Are you guys going to be okay alone for a while?”

“I’m not a child, Suga.” Nishinoya replied as if he was a teenager saying it back to his parents. “They are,” he gestured towards the couch where Hinata and Kenma were sharing a half of it, the other half free and open for anyone to reclaim. “But I’m not.”

“Are you going to be fine alone for a while?” Suga asked again, not satisfied with Nishinoya’s first answer.

“Yes, yes, we’ll be fine, we’ll be careful.” Nishinoya made a motion with his hand that was both waving Suga’s worries away and shooing him to go already.  

“Okay,” Suga smiled, satisfied now but a little annoyed of Nishinoya shooing him from his own apartment.

He only stopped for a moment at the door with the ridiculous thought that struck him, wondering for that second if he should change his clothes after all, maybe dress for the part of Sherlock Holmes, but ultimately decided that it was maybe a tad bit too over the top.

 

 

...

 

 

“Suga?”

To say the least, Matsukawa looked surprised when he opened the door.

“Am I interrupting something?” Suga asked and smiled kindly.

“Not at all,” Matsukawa replied hurriedly and shook his head, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

“Thank you,” Suga said as sincerely as he could, stepping inside. “I’m sorry to just drop in like this.”

“It’s fine,” Matsukawa assured him, leading the way further in and to the living room. “We’re in your apartment all the time too.” He picked up the remote from the couch and switched the TV on mute, the show he had been watching still playing but without the sound.

“It’s different,” Suga pointed out softly as he sat down on the couch, but didn’t elaborate on why it was different. He had a feeling Matsukawa knew anyway.

“So, why are you here?” Matsukawa inquired with kindness when he sat down as well.

“A couple of days ago, you and Makki took Tooru out to celebrate,” Suga decided to jump straight into it. “Did something happen then? He’s been a bit different since. And every time that Daichi or Iwaizumi comes up in a conversation, he completely shuts off about it, insisting that it’s nothing.” Suga knew he sounded worried, since he was worried, and didn’t even try and hide it.

Matsukawa hummed shortly before he answered, as if he needed a short reprieve to think if he _should_ say anything. “I don’t know why he’s like that about Sawamura, but he did get into a fight with Hajime.”

Suga wondered how Oikawa had ‘forgotten’ to tell him about that. “Was it bad?”

“They did bring up their past, so...” Matsukawa paused for dramatic effect only. “Yeah, it got a little nasty.”

“Oh.” Suga looked down and away.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Matsukawa sounded unbothered, as if it was nothing at all. However, his nonchalance over the fight wasn’t assuring Suga at all. “Once they start to miss each other, they’ll make up.”

“This has happened before?”

“A couple of times. It takes some time for them to get over their own hurt, but they’ll get there. Just be patient.”

Suga let out a soft sigh. “With their past, you meant the time when they were dating?” he guessed.

“Yeah, there’s some resentment of why and how they broke up and everything that happened right after it on Hajime’s part. And Oikawa acting like he doesn’t care about it at all isn’t exactly helping.”

“I can imagine it wouldn’t.” Suga agreed dryly.

Matsukawa chuckled. “Yeah, it really doesn’t. But I meant it,” Matsukawa turned somber. “They’ll get over it in their own time. We just have to be patient.”

“Okay,” Suga nodded. “Thank you, this really helped.”

“You’re welcome,” Matsukawa replied easily with a slight smile. “Are you in a hurry somewhere?” He asked then, his words a little hurried when Suga was already in motion to get up.  

Suga shook his head, a bit apprehensively since he was quite sure that the kids were unsupervised in his apartment. “No,” he replied slowly, drawling a little as he settled back down on the couch.

“Want to hang out for a bit?” Matsukawa’s expression was open and hopeful – how could Suga refuse to stay.

“Sure,” he agreed with a smile. “You know I’ve never been in your apartment before.” He looked around himself in the living room with new eyes, and wasn’t at all surprised too notice how it fit Matsukawa and Hanamaki. If he didn’t know that the couple lived there, he could see them living there. Everything about the décor was very _them._

“Really?” Matsukawa looked taken aback by the information. “Do you want a tour?”

“No, that’s alright,” Suga beamed with a smile. “The layout is the same as in Akaashi and Bokuto’s apartment.”

“I think we have better interior design sense, though.”

Suga smiled, un-opinionated as he was about the matter, he thought it was better not to say anything. “How are you liking your free time now?” he decided to ask instead.

“Oikawa told you about it?”

Suga nodded, tucking himself on the couch to sit more comfortably, trying to relax a little.

“First it was fun, to just stay home and do nothing but play games and watch TV. But then I started to get bored because I had nothing else to do, so I now keep starting different projects and leaving them unfinished because I come up with something else I want to do. It’s driving Makki mad.” Matsukawa said the last sentence with an imperceptibly pleased smirk.

“Have you looked into a new job yet?”

“A bit. But I’m not really sure what I want to do. I have a degree in finance, and at the energy company where I used to work, I put in numbers day in and day out. It’s what I know and can do so I keep looking at jobs in that field.”

“Maybe you should try something different, something other than financing? To see if it’s there’s work you’d find more enjoyable. And if it’s not, then look for something with financing.”

“Hm, maybe,” Matsukawa mused, his attention turning back to the show on TV.

“And until you find something, you’re always welcome to our apartment. I’m home alone a lot too, so you don’t have to be alone through the whole day.” Suga offered, glancing at the TV as well, but giving up soon when he didn’t recognize the show.

There was a small smile in Matsukawa’s focused expression. “Thanks.”

“And even if I’m not home, there’s always someone there. Everyone uses our apartment very liberally.”

“We come and go a lot too.”

Suga was shaking his head before Matsukawa had finished his sentence. “Not like the others. Yes, you do come and go as you please, but not as often as everyone else. It’s fine to hang out there even if no one’s around.”

“Thanks. But how are you alone a lot? Isn’t Oikawa there?” Matsukawa was frowning a little.

“He is, but he’s usually studying, so it’s like he’s not even there. I don’t know how or why, but it’s as if he’s zoomed to another planet when he studies, he seems so focused. It’s easy to pull him from it, he hasn’t shut the world outside, but even when he’s in the same room with you and studies, it’s as if he’s not even in the same room.”

Matsukawa chuckled while Suga spoke.

“So, alone,” Suga finished, pointing at himself and he took the throw pillow from behind his back to hug it. “Especially now that Tooru practices with Kuroo almost daily.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. And Makki said that you went to a volleyball game with Oikawa. How’d that go?”

“It went well,” Suga smiled to alleviate the worry he could hear in Matsukawa’s voice. “He was nervous and on edge, but he got through it and even congratulated Kuroo after the game.”

Matsukawa had a slight frown on his forehead. “Are we talking about the same Oikawa Tooru? He really congratulated someone after a volleyball game he wasn’t able to play in?”

Suga nodded, his fingers absently playing with the corner of the pillow in his lap.

Matsukawa leaned back a little, looking warily at Suga. “You’ve changed him. He would’ve never done something like that in a million years before he moved to live with you. He wouldn’t have even stepped into a volleyball gym. Or touched a volleyball.”

“I don’t think he’s changed. Maybe he’s just grown out of the resentment he held for the sport.”

“Maybe,” Matsukawa mused, nodding to himself. “But there still has to be some magic in you to pull it out of Oikawa.”

Suga smiled, pleased at the praise. “I can’t take all the credit.”

“Yes, you can and you should. You might not have noticed it, but we have since we’ve known him for so long, but he’s changed in other aspects too. For one, his jealousy. He used to get really jealous, really easily. He doesn’t seem to anymore. Or maybe he just handles it better now, I don’t know.” Matsukawa shrugged.

Suga felt he couldn’t exactly agree, based on the fight he had had with Oikawa, but he didn’t voice it.

“And once he moved to live with you, it was a little weird how he just stopped hooking up and sleeping around with random guys. Before that, he used to sleep with a new guy every week.”

“He did?” Suga was taken aback.

“Yep,” Matsukawa nodded as he seemed to think about something, his eyes wandering lazily around the living room. “It was like he suddenly tried to behave, or impress you with his good behavior and manners.”

Suga chuckled lightly, thinking back to when Oikawa moved in and how distant the man had been in the beginning. Sometimes it seemed that the time had flown by and now suddenly they were what they were. And yet, it had taken a considerably long time for them to get here.  

“By the way,” Matsukawa said slowly and Suga noticed his glance. “Are you ever going to tell him you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Suga let out a little sigh and hugged the throw pillow tighter. “Has he told you if he’s ever going to tell me?”

Matsukawa’s eyes were wide with surprise. “You know he likes you?”

“He’s not exactly hiding it,” Suga pointed out, smiling bashfully. “And neither were you lot with the bet.”

“Oh, right, that,” Matsukawa chuckled self-consciously. “Sorry about that, again.”

“It’s forgotten,” Suga waved his hand in the air.

“Okay, but,” Matsukawa started and changed his sitting position a little as he turned to fully face Suga. “Are you two ever going to confess? It’s clear you like each other, and it’s clear that you both know that you like each other. So, what’s holding you back?”

“I don’t know,” Suga sort of lied. He knew what had held them back, what they were waiting for now. He couldn’t admit any of it though, not yet, not when Oikawa seemed to be in two separate fights with Iwaizumi and Daichi. “I guess we’re waiting for the right moment,” he settled to say – it was close enough to be the truth not to be a lie.

Matsukawa let out a soft sigh. “I think you’re wasting time by not confessing.”

“I know.” Suga smiled comfortingly at Matsukawa. “I know.”

Matsukawa leaned back to the couch cushions and for a moment a silence reigned in the room, apart from the TV infomercial.

“You know, it’s really going to suck for you two if the sex is bad.” Matsukawa mused out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?” Suga asked with a delightedly surprised laugh.

“You like each other, a lot, _and_ you already live together. If the sex is bad, you’re kind of screwed.”

“Let’s hope the sex is really good then,” Suga said with a confident smile since the sex had been better than _good._

 

 

...

 

 

Suga was surprised to find Oikawa lazying on the couch when he got home a couple of hours later. No kids were anywhere in sight, and Suga noticed the lack of unfamiliar shoes when he toed his off.

He assumed Oikawa had chased them out of the apartment, since he was eager to have Suga just for himself, and Suga was just as eager to stay alone with Oikawa as well.

He tiptoed quietly to the couch in the silent apartment and leaned over Oikawa to whisper. “Please tell me you’re not sleeping, because that would suck.”

A slow smile spread on Oikawa’s lips before he opened his eyes. “Where were you?” he inquired in his normal level of voice as he sat up.

“Out.”

“Out where?” Oikawa frowned a little, looking more confused than anything else. “Without your coat?”

“I was hanging with Mattsun,” Suga replied as he sat next to Oikawa on the couch, throwing his legs in Oikawa’s lap and gave him a quick kiss.

Oikawa pursed his lips and hummed thoughtfully, his hands already lightly resting on top of Suga’s thighs.   

“What?” Suga asked with bright eyes, his arm loosely around Oikawa’s neck. He had enjoyed spending his time hanging with Mattsun and Oikawa’s brooding silence about it was slightly disconcerting.

“I’m not sure what to think of you hanging with my friends.” Oikawa replied, looking thoughtful.

Suga smiled to reassure him, his hand gently massaging Oikawa’s neck. “I think they’re my friends too at this point.”

Oikawa pursed his lips, but smiled quickly after it. “You’re probably right. Just don’t steal them from me. I’m pretty sure they find you lovelier than me.”

“How much did it hurt you to admit that out loud?” Suga teased, pretending to be shocked. He let go of the act with a laugh when Oikawa groaned, and lightly leaned against him. “Won’t steal them, I promise. But if they follow me like the duck does, it’s not my fault,” he finished seriously.

It was Oikawa’s turn to laugh a little. “Where is that duck even? I haven’t seen it at all today.”

“It’s in my room, making a nest in my closet,” Suga answered as if it wasn’t a big deal and quickly moved onto something much more important, his fingers working on distracting as well as he played with the loose hairs at Oikawa’s nape. “Do you want to go out?”

He had decided to try and find out what kind of schism there was between Oikawa and Daichi, and to speed up Oikawa and Iwaizumi make up their fight. And he had decided it during the thirty or so seconds it took for him to go down one flight of stairs. It might’ve been a rushed decision, maybe something he should’ve thought through more thoroughly, but he knew it was the right thing to do. After all, how could they ever come forward with their relationship if Daichi wouldn’t approve because he had something against Oikawa, or if Oikawa and Iwaizumi were at odds with each other?

Besides, Suga really wanted to tell Daichi already. More than anyone else, he wanted to tell his best friend that he was now in a relationship with someone he lov- liked. A lot. More than lot. And he knew that Oikawa would want to tell Iwaizumi before he told anyone else. Even if Oikawa hadn’t expressed it in words, Suga could tell that he also wanted his best friend to know.  

“Out?” Oikawa raised his eyebrow in question. “Whose apartment are we visiting now?”

Suga giggled and stood up, taking Oikawa’s hand in his. “No, I mean _out_ out. I’ve been cooped inside the whole day and I want some fresh air. Come with me?” He tugged a little on Oikawa’s hand. He couldn’t say where they were going, knowing that Oikawa wouldn’t agree to go if he knew the destination. So, he tried to appear aimless and vague.

But Oikawa didn’t budge.

“I bet you were already taking a break from studying. Come on, let’s go. The sun is shining.” Suga tried one more time to assuage Oikawa to get up, and with a few more tugs, Oikawa exhaled through his nose, reminiscent of a sigh.

“Fine, let’s go.” He got up from the couch and Suga led him to the front door by his hand. “You can be very demanding sometimes.”

“What?” Suga asked innocently. “You didn’t realize that from last night?”

Oikawa smirked in response, pulling his shoes on. “How you still haven’t changed out of your pajamas is beyond me.” He was looking at Suga up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m comfortable,” Suga defended his choice of clothes, putting his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “I can wait if you want to change your constricting jeans into something more comfortable.”

“I’m good.” Oikawa stated with a satisfied grin, and with a small shrug of ‘do what you want’, Suga turned to step out the door. They were quiet as they descended the stairs, Suga trying to think of ways to keep Oikawa distracted until they got to their destination.

“By the way, what was it that Tanaka wanted to talk to you about?” Oikawa asked nonchalantly as they made their way across the building’s small courtyard towards the street and set a leisurely pace, their hands brushing every now and then.

“Confidential,” Suga replied just as casually.

“You really aren’t going to tell me? At least a little hint?” Oikawa pleaded with a sly grin.

“I’m not a snitch,” Suga stated calmly and they stopped at the traffic lights. “Stop interrogating me about it.”

“Have you been reading a spy novel or something?” Oikawa asked then and when Suga looked at him, he saw that Oikawa had suspiciously narrowed his eyes. “Your vocabulary is straight from CSI.”

“I’m not that specific,” Suga answered easily as he looked straight ahead again, while the light changed and they proceeded to cross the street. “And no, I didn’t. But I did watch some detective show with Mattsun.”

“He loves those.” Oikawa stated in a bored voice that made Suga smile. “I’m pretty sure he’s seen every single one ever made.”

Suga chuckled as Oikawa went on a tirade of Matsukawa’s obsession about police shows. He felt slightly proud of himself for accidentally stumbling onto a sufficient distraction so Oikawa probably wouldn’t pay too much attention to where they were going as he followed where Suga led.

“I swear, for a whole year his response to anything was ‘No shit, Sherlock’, and of course Makki had to jump onto the bandwagon in a way when he got tired of it and started always responding with ‘Fuck you, Watson’.” Oikawa finished with a sigh, countered with a fond smile that warmed Suga’s heart.

He loved seeing Oikawa fond of his friends, caring about them. He knew Oikawa could be considerate if he wanted to, the man just showed it so rarely it felt like a miracle to witness it. But alas, Suga had already seen that side of Oikawa on multiple occasions, probably more often than Oikawa, or anyone else, would ever guess.

“So, are we just walking aimlessly or do you have some place in mind?” Oikawa asked as they turned another street corner.

Suga had purposely taken a little detour just in case Oikawa caught on where they were going. “A little bit of both,” he admitted. “Are you in a hurry somewhere?” he checked.

“We could go home and have sex,” Oikawa suggested with a smirk, bumping against Suga’s shoulder.

Suga stumbled a bit to the side and almost walked into someone, but suppressed his smile as he came back to walk next to Oikawa. “What a tempting and romantically worded suggestion,” he remarked sardonically, while Oikawa chuckled silently.

The chuckles died away quickly when they turned to the familiar street, and Oikawa stopped dead. “No.”

Suga stopped as well, a step or two later when Oikawa’s word registered to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked innocently as he stepped closer to Oikawa.

“Suga-chan, no,” Oikawa repeated seriously. “I’m not going there.”

“Where?” Suga kept up the pretense of not knowing what Oikawa meant. He had feared that Oikawa would refuse to keep going once he realized they were heading towards Daichi and Iwaizumi’s apartment building, but he was prepared – he was going to be stubborn, more stubborn than Oikawa.

“You know exactly where,” Oikawa said with an accusing tone, his look hard and distrusting.

“Oh, come on.” Suga grabbed Oikawa’s sleeve, starting to pull him after him. “I want to see my friend.”

“But I don’t want to see mine.” Oikawa was digging his heels in, but Suga was persistent.

“You and Iwaizumi just need to talk. Put on your big boy pants, apologize, hug it out and be best friends forever again.”

“Too bad I left my big boy pants home then.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Suga-chaaaan,” Oikawa whined behind him.

“I can’t believe my boyfriend is such a whiny, stubborn baby.” Suga tried to ignore Oikawa’s kicked-puppy-whining, sure that Oikawa wouldn’t have heard what he said over the hum and noise of the traffic and pedestrians.

“Not my fault you fell in love with my irresistible charm.” Oikawa pointed out cockily, proving Suga’s presumption wrong.  

Suga glanced back to check on Oikawa’s expression, which was smug above anything else.

“I’m not exactly loving you right now,” he huffed, speaking under his breath, as he looked ahead again so they didn’t crash into anything or anyone.

“But you do love me?” Oikawa phrased it to sound both a statement and a question, surprising Suga again with his supersonic hearing.

Suga opted not to answer, though, as he kept dragging Oikawa after him. He was a little relieved that Oikawa was walking after him, although reluctantly, and not standing at full stop. He was absolutely certain that if Oikawa decided that he didn’t want to go, he wouldn’t be able to bodily force him to.

Maybe it was a little mean and inconsiderate to force Oikawa to go inside, to face the two people who were probably the two who wanted to see him the least. But Suga had to, _had to,_ do this. There was no way he would let Oikawa or Daichi hold onto whatever grudge they were holding against each other. And he found it important to speed up the process of Oikawa and Iwaizumi to forgive each other as well for whatever it was that they were initially fighting about.

Honestly, Suga was so lost on everything that had been going on right under his nose without him noticing it, that he was starting to feel frustrated. And he really hated feeling frustrated, it only made him more frustrated and it easily became a vicious unending cycle.

Even in the stairs Oikawa climbed up as slowly as possible, while Suga held onto the last dregs of his patience with two desperate hands. He was almost certain that Oikawa was trying to be difficult on purpose to annoy Suga to give up on his mission to have Oikawa in the same room with Daichi and Iwaizumi.

And Suga definitely wasn’t having any of it, refusing to give into his frustration and he let out a small exhale of relief when he rang the doorbell.

“Suga!” Daichi greeted with a smile when he opened the door, but his smile died the very moment that he noticed Oikawa standing behind and to the side of Suga. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a suspicious tone.

“You two need to talk.” Suga stated, his voice bordering on pleading, which he wasn’t too far from doing.

“No way.”

“That’s not happening.”

Daichi and Oikawa said at the same time, both crossing their arms in defiance and looking at each other with distrust, sizing each other.

Suga sighed, gearing up to fight both of them if he needed to just to have them talk. “You _need_ to,” he stressed as heavily as he could. He needed his best friend and boyfriend to get along, now more than ever.

“I’m not talking to Oikawa until I hear an apology.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Oikawa scoffed and was about to leave, but Suga stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said sternly and turned back to Daichi. “Could you let us in?”

“He’s not coming in,” Daichi denied with slight disdain, something Suga was absolutely surprised to hear in Daichi’s voice. “I’d just end up throwing him out the window and there’s no way I’m going to jail because I accidentally purposefully hospitalized him.”

“See?” Oikawa said pointedly, tugging his arm in vain as he tried to get Suga to release his grasp on his sleeve. “He’s not going to let me in and I really don’t want to throw him out the window either, so let’s just go home.”

Suga ignored Oikawa’s insistence and kept looking steadily at Daichi. At least the two didn’t want to physically hurt each other, and he counted that as a positive sign.

“Daichi, I don’t want to cause a scene in the stairwell. Please let us in.”

“No.” Daichi shook his head.

“What’s going on?” A new voice asked then, surprising them all with his presence. Suga turned around and saw Iwaizumi looking at all of them with confusion on his furrowed eyebrows as he climbed the last steps before the landing.

“Suga’s trying to make me and Oikawa make up.”

Iwaizumi’s derisive snort jarred Suga’s ears. “That’d be a nice party trick to see – Oikawa apologizing to someone.” He spoke as he made his way past pleading Suga and impatient-to-leave Oikawa to obstinate Daichi.

“It’s not unheard of,” Suga defended, to the two people who would never want to believe him of it, Iwaizumi proving him right about it right away.

“Suga, Oikawa’s never going to apologize.” Iwaizumi gestured towards Oikawa, who was looking at everyone with narrowed eyes. “I know you probably don’t know this, but he never has. And Daichi’s never going to forgive Oikawa for telling his secret to you.”

“I apologize when the occasion calls for it,” Oikawa spoke up.

“You never apologized to me,” Iwaizumi said back.

“It’s different.” Oikawa’s tone was depreciatory, and Suga could tell how it would rub Iwaizumi the wrong way.

Iwaizumi took a step closer to Oikawa, his fists clenched and voice demanding. “How?”

“Stop!” Suga stepped between Oikawa and Iwaizumi when it looked like they were about to have a cat fight. Matsukawa hadn’t undersold it when he said that it got ugly whenever Iwaizumi and Oikawa brought up anything even slightly hurtful from their past.

“Why does it matter anymore that Oikawa told me your secret, Daichi?” Suga might’ve named Daichi, but was really talking to all of them. “We’re fine, better than ever.” Suga motioned between him and Daichi. "So what if I didn’t know that he was in love with me.” He now spoke to Iwaizumi. “I know now and I’m glad that I know. It didn’t change a thing between us.”

Iwaizumi looked to Daichi, who looked down and Suga saw him deflate a little, his posture softening to something less hostile and defensive.

“You didn’t know?” Oikawa’s harsh tone clashed with the soft silence that Suga’s pleading outburst had brought on around them.

Suga turned to him slowly, pressing his lips tight, because he just revealed a secret of his own that he had secretly hoped to keep forever.

“You said you knew that Daichi was in love with you.” Oikawa made a call back to their make up a couple of weeks ago, and Suga could vividly remember how he had made the white lie, why he had made it.

Suga swallowed hard, finding it unbelievable that he’d had to explain this now, when this was the farthest thing he had imagined he would have to do when he had decided to drag Oikawa over to Daichi and Iwaizumi’s for everyone to make up.

“I could tell you felt bad about telling me, for how you threw it in my face like you were proving a point that was completely the wrong point to make,” Suga spoke softly, already ready to apologize for his actions that he had made out of love.

“Unbelievable,” Oikawa shook his head, turning it to look away from Suga.

Suga hadn’t noticed it, but somehow his hold onto Oikawa’s sleeve must’ve slackened, for Oikawa merely slipped out of his grasp with a huff.

“I’m going home,” he muttered.

Suga felt Oikawa walking away from like a sting in his chest. This definitely wasn’t how he had wanted this to go. Granted, he hadn’t expected much, practically nothing, but he also hadn’t imagined that everything would go so sideways.

“What did you expect Suga?” Iwaizumi asked as they all watched Oikawa leave. “He’s too proud to apologize. Except maybe to some people.”

Suga caught the not –so-subtly pointed tone Iwaizumi used and he turned his head slowly to look at the perpetually grumpy man. He got the feeling that Iwaizumi had meant him.

“Are you trying to get rid of all of your friends?” he asked softly, letting his desire for Iwaizumi _not_ to do that fill his voice.

Iwaizumi sighed heavily and leaned against the doorframe as if he was suddenly exhausted by the weight of the world on his shoulders, looking away so Suga couldn’t read his expression.

“Oikawa told you my secret. You know that I take that seriously.” Daichi drew Suga’s attention with the patient and soft way he was speaking, but the tone of seriousness underneath it and impossible not to detect.

“I know.” Suga looked down the stairwell, maybe wishing for Oikawa to suddenly just come back, maybe knowing it was an empty wish.

“You can stay,” Daichi said softly and Suga turned to look at him, and then glanced at Iwaizumi, who seemed worried, looking down the stairwell.

“No, I’m going to make sure Tooru makes it home,” Suga answered and caught the subtle nod of appreciation from Iwaizumi. Even though he was fighting with Oikawa, he still cared, and it was sweet.

“Okay, well –“

“We’ll hang out some other time, I promise,” Suga interrupted Daichi and showed his most reassuring smile before took off in a jog.

Once he hit the street and before he slipped into the crowd outside, he looked both ways, hoping that Oikawa had headed straight to home. Luckily Oikawa was tall, and easy to spot, and Suga could see him walking back the way they had come from in a leisurely pace.

 _Had Oikawa known that he would run after him?_ Suga wondered as he continued to lightly jog up to Oikawa to catch up with him.

“Tooru,” he called softly as he reached Oikawa, putting his hand on Oikawa’s arm and they stopped and faced each other. “I’m sorry for forcing you to do this.”

“I understand why you did it,” Oikawa said without much life in his voice, quite tonelessly.

It hurt Suga a little to hear Oikawa sound so uncaring about it when he knew that Oikawa probably was anything but. He stepped closer carefully and wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s shoulders tentatively, only hugging him tight when he could sense that Oikawa wouldn’t push him away. He felt Oikawa’s arms encircle him as well almost immediately, like it was an immediate reflex and not a thought-through action, and they held on for a moment until Suga stepped back half a step and cupped Oikawa’s cheeks, looking steadily up into his eyes. “You have to walk me through everything that has happened because I feel like I’m not getting the whole picture.”

Oikawa nodded slightly, and his eyes searched something over Suga’s head. “I need coffee.”

“Okay,” Suga agreed and followed Oikawa to a nearby café, led there by Oikawa’s strong hand gently but firmly holding his.

 

 

...

 

 

They sat down at a table next to the large windows giving an aquarium like view at the outside world. Suga didn’t wait a second before he was already asking the important questions, and Oikawa was and wasn’t glad about it.

“Why is it so important to you that I make up with them?” Oikawa demanded to know, his voice a tad too smooth for the occasion, but he was trying to hide his frustration about the fighting.

“Because you’re my boyfriend,” Suga stated confidently, but turned less so the next second. “You are my boyfriend, right?” he checked, little unsurely.

Oikawa smiled at Suga’s hesitance and leaned his elbows on the table, his chin cupped in his hands. “Only if you’re mine too,” he flirted.

“I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.” Suga rolled his eyes, the action taking away from his seriousness. “And you can stop flirting with me, you already have me.”

“I’d never stop flirting with you.” Oikawa leaned back and put his right hand over his heart, as if shocked and wounded, holding in a dramatic gasp that Suga would even suggest something like that. “It’s too much fun,” he continued and added a smirk at the end as he dropped his hands to his lap.

He was glad to see a ghost of a smile hover on Suga’s lips before it was wiped away and the corners of his lips were down. “I’m serious here, Tooru,” Suga said, seriously. “Why are you fighting with Daichi?”

Oikawa sighed – he wasn’t exactly thrilled to talk about it, but since Suga was insisting to get to the bottom of things, he didn’t really have a choice.

“Remember when we had the fight after your exhibit?”

Suga nodded, just a single bob of his head.

“Well,” Oikawa drawled, “The next day, I went to see Iwaizumi, to talk to him about it, to vent. But they weren’t exactly thrilled to see me and Daichi practically cursed me out of their apartment.”

“Daichi came to our apartment that morning and I told him that I fought with you and that you told me that he was in love with me.” Suga spoke softly, a hint of an apology in his voice.

Oikawa wasn’t sure what to think of Suga automatically taking some of the blame, but decided to wade through that thread of a thought at another time.

“That would explain why he knew and why he was mad.”

“So, why are you mad at him?” Suga prompted.

Oikawa frowned. Wasn’t Suga listening? “I just told you. He was rude and chased me out of their apartment, when I really needed a friend, he wouldn’t let me have it.”

Suga was quiet, fallen into his thoughts as he looked out the window, and Oikawa busied himself with finishing his coffee while he waited for Suga to say something, anything. He followed Suga’s middle finger as it circled the rim of his cup again and again and again. When he couldn’t wait any longer, Oikawa placed his hand on Suga’s on top of the cup to stop his nervous habit.

“I can understand why you’d be upset about it,” Suga finally said, an understanding in his eyes.

But Oikawa scoffed as he wasn’t entirely satisfied with Suga’s remark. “What is there not to understand?”

“What about Iwaizumi?” Suga asked instead of answering Oikawa’s question. “Why are you fighting with him?”

Oikawa mulled his thoughts, slowly coming to the decision to just give Suga all the answers he wanted before he’d start to defend himself.

“Just stuff about the past,” Oikawa replied flippantly. He had had a feeling that Suga would take Daichi’s side in everything, but just because he could foresee it didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Stuff that you’ve fought about before?” Suga asked carefully. “Something that you’ve made up about before?”

“Maybe,” Oikawa snapped. He didn’t want to talk about his past with Iwaizumi with Suga, not when his grudge against Iwaizumi was so fresh in his mind. He crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively and looked out the window. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected would happen next, what Suga would say next.

But he definitely hadn’t expected Suga to sound so desperate.

“You know you need to apologize to Daichi, right?”

Oikawa shook his head defiantly. “Not until he apologizes to me first.”

“You started this, Tooru.” Suga pointed out, leaning forward over the table and reaching his hand out to gently land on Oikawa’s arm. “You need to take the first step to finish it too.”

“I’m not apologizing.”

Suga brought his hand back and buried his face into them. “Tooru, please –“

“Why does it even matter to you so much that I’m angry at Daichi and he’s irrationally mad at me?” Oikawa interrupted Suga.

“Because he’s my best friend and you’re my boyfriend,” Suga answered without a beat in between, his face unhidden and expression fierce. Literally, once Oikawa had let out the last syllable, Suga was already answering. “I need to be able to tell him that we’re together without him hating or judging me for it.”

Oikawa didn’t have a rebuttal for that. He could understand why Suga would want his best friend to be happy for him, for them. He could understand it because he wanted the same from Iwaizumi too.

“I’m not apologizing,” Oikawa kept up with his one track mind, repeating himself like a broken record. He knew it, he knew it was redundant, but he didn’t care. He was going to stand behind his decision.

“Tooru,” Suga pleaded, sounding so heartbroken Oikawa could feel it as a sting in his chest as well. “You and Daichi are tearing my heart in two and it hurts too much, so you have to fix this before I decide to move to the North Pole so I can make friends with polar bears, and maybe Santa. And I’m taking Kumamon with me, don’t think I won’t,” Suga spoke in a rush, starting with a desperate plea and ending with fierce adamancy.

It was impossible for Oikawa to keep his smile away at hearing Suga speak so, because he had no reason to doubt or no difficulty to vision that Suga would take off with Kumamon. Maybe not to the North Pole, but at least to take a little time away from everyone.

He sighed, giving up when faced by Suga’s desperation and finally admitted that maybe he had been wrong too. “I’ll try and apologize,” he promised, knowing how hard it would be, since he was expecting an apology as well and he knew it could be impossible to hear one.

“You better or I’m going to have to get my mother here to sort you two out.” Suga’s voice was serious, as if he was ready to call her right that second if Oikawa didn’t agree to co-operate.

Oikawa let out a delighted laugh at the mere idea of Akiko acting like a referee in their fight.

But Suga didn’t think it was funny, as he looked dead serious. “I mean it, I’ll call her.”

“I know, I know you’re being serious,” Oikawa placated with a smile, taking Suga’s hand into his.

“I refuse to deal with the absurdity of my boyfriend and my best friend not being able to be in the same room. I’m not going to let that happen.” There was determination in Suga’s eyes now, and Oikawa could tell he was truly pained enough by this to take any measures needed.

“I know,” Oikawa whispered and tugged on Suga’s hand. “Come here.”

Suga got up from his seat and moved to the chair next to Oikawa’s, where he was promptly pulled into a hug. Oikawa pressed his face into the crook at Suga’s neck and then lifted his head to leave a soft kiss to his hair, inhaling the scent of it. He looked at Suga and brushed his thumb at the corner of his jaw.

“I’ll talk with Daichi.”

Suga looked down, and then up to his eyes with a sharp inhale. “You should apologize to Iwaizumi first.” Oikawa furrowed his brow, both with displeasure the idea brought, and confusion that Suga would suggest it.

“He could be your ally in this, try and talk Daichi into co-operating,” Suga reasoned, and he was right. “He’s your best friend. Don’t lose that just because you happen to have other friends as well.”

“I know.”

Even though Oikawa admitted it, it didn’t mean that he liked the idea or was looking forward to reaching out to Iwaizumi just so they could have another talk where they made up for something they’ve already made up for on multiple occasions. To take his mind off of it, he booped Suga’s nose and he scrunched it cutely, causing Oikawa to smile at the gesture. “How’d you get so wise?”

“I’m channeling my mom,” Suga answered simply, the answer really and truly obvious.

Oikawa chuckled and Suga disentangled himself from Oikawa. “Want to go to movies or something? Since we’re already out.” Suga suggested and brushed his slightly overgrown hair out of his eyes with gentle fingers, reminding Oikawa of the way he sometimes did it for him.

Oikawa thought about it for a moment, and decided that, “movie sounds good. But...” He took a deep breath and Suga waited patiently. “Why did you lie to me? About knowing that Daichi was in love with you?”

Suga shifted a little in his seat and Oikawa interpreted that he was uncomfortable. There was a beat before Suga answered, the kind that happens in movies right before someone says something important. Oikawa felt the beat, how it filled him with anticipation.

“Because I love you.”

 

 

 

 

Oikawa was stunned.

Absolutely stunned and completely speechless. Unable to think. Unable to comprehend what Suga had just said, almost sure that he had heard wrong. Never had he thought that Suga would say it first.

Before his brain could catch up with Suga’s confession, he was already continuing.

“I have to admit, and it’s important that you know this.” Suga stopped to exhale heavily through his nose. “I was hurt when you threw it at me how I couldn’t see that Daichi was in love with me like it was a viable reason for us not to be together.”

Oikawa looked down in shame, but Suga lifted his chin up with a gentle hand, his eyes just as gentle and most of all sincere.  

“You called me inconsiderate for never noticing Daichi’s feelings towards me like you really meant it, believed that I was purposefully clueless. But when you apologized for it, I could see how you were filled with regret for saying that to me, for revealing a secret, for hurting me with it.” Suga’s tone turned soft as he spoke and slowly Oikawa came to accept that Suga had meant it, the love-word. “I wanted to take that regret away from you because I care about you, and because I was glad to know.”

Oikawa’s eyes filled with tears, but he fought hard not to let single one drop, even if they were there out of happiness and overwhelming affection.  He could literally feel it in his body how warm he felt but not in a way that he was physically warming up. 

“You love me?” he whispered then, moving closer to Suga, his hands gliding down on Suga’s arms and intertwining their fingers when he got there, his eyes following the movement with reverence due to his amazement that Suga had confessed. He might not have preferred to hear for the first time in middle of a busy café with annoying teenagers exclaiming loudly at whatever they were watching on their phones at the table next to theirs, but it didn’t take away the warmth spreading through his body, expressing it through his smile. He really couldn’t stop smiling.

Suga took a deep breath as he nodded with a shy smile. “I do,” he said with confidence, as if it was an answer he was absolutely sure of, like there was no alternative for it. “I do love you.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for the ending  
> Is it mean to just leave it like that? I'm really sorry if I caused unnecessary heart palpitations but I hope it still fills you with some sort of happiness :) 
> 
> Now, this has nothing to do with the chapter, butI need to vent due to frustration: I have "pizza, pasta, so-so" playing in my head on loop, ONLY that little phrase, over and over and over again, AND I haven't heard that song since it came out about two months ago, so I'm a little frustrated now because it refuses to leave.  
> I blame that neverending loop on why the conversation between Suga and Tanaka got so lenghty. I really don't know how it actually happened, and I apologize if it felt like it was just droning on and on. It wasn't my intention, but somehow, once I started writing it, I couldn't stop and now it is what it is. At least I got in there what I wanted to be there, plus about two thousand extra words.  
> I would also like to address that I have not let my own experiences about sex of first times influence what either of them said or felt. (But I used 'have sex for the first time' or just 'have sex' instead of 'losing a virginity' on purpose)
> 
> Another thing, Noya's comment about the locked door was because he actually heard bits and pieces of Suga and Oikawa's talk in the kitchen. He doesn't know anything for sure, but he suspects. There is already a plan formulating in his mind of tricking Suga and/or Oikawa to confess that they're together now at the party. 
> 
> Anyway, to be continued:  
> "Your rice cooker is fratenizing with the microwave."
> 
> (That's the only little spoiler I'm giving about the next chapter since you can probably guess what's about to happen anyway)


	43. Chapter 43

 

 

 

_“Why are you crying?” Suga asked with a soft chuckle, his thumb brushing across Oikawa’s cheekbone._

_“I’m not.” Oikawa denied bravely, and masked his sniffle with a scoff._

_Suga tilted his head knowingly, all the while smiling so impossibly sweetly. “I thought you knew.”_

_“That you love me?”_

_Suga nodded, his hand moving from Oikawa’s cheek down his neck to rest on the shoulder. His eyes followed his hand’s movements, and stayed on it when he squeezed Oikawa’s shoulder comfortingly. “I thought you knew. I’m sorry if I surprised you with it. I don’t want you to cry.”_

_“Don’t be silly,” Oikawa held Suga’s other hand in his tighter, filled with the want to kiss Suga but knowing that they were in a very public place with people all around them. Seriously, couldn’t Suga have waited for a better time to say “I love you”?_

_“I’m happy, not surprised.”_

_“Good.” Suga’s smile was happy, his eyes disappearing from the force of it. Oikawa really wanted to kiss him._

_“Let’s go home.” He got up and pulled Suga by his hand after him._

_They must’ve gotten home in record time, driven by their mutual knowledge that they could kiss there._

 

 

...

 

 

When Suga woke up, the first thing in his mind was how pained his thighs were with any move he tried to do that required his muscles to work.

_Why did I insist on riding Oikawa last night?_ he wondered as his hand searched blindly, with his sleepy eyes closed, for his annoyingly ringing phone.

_Totally worth it, though,_ he concluded when he managed to pull his phone from his jacket that was left crumbled and forgotten on the floor.

Once he had managed to dig out his phone and was back safely in the bed again and not dangerously dangling of the edge of it, he realized who was calling him, and there was no way he would answer.

There was no way he was going to answer his mother _naked._ He was too paranoid that his mother would be able to tell he wasn’t clothed and then she would ask questions he wasn’t ready to answer yet.

So, the decision made in a speed of light, he rolled to his other side and reached his arm over Oikawa’s side to annoy him awake with the phone ringing right next to Oikawa’s ear.

“It’s for you,” he mumbled sleepily and nudged Oikawa to make sure the man woke up to it.

“Hmm?” Oikawa hummed just as sleepily, if not even more so.

“Answer the phone,” Suga prompted him again in a soft voice.

It took a second for Oikawa to realize what was going on, his sleep still preventing him from fully functioning, but he took the phone and answered.

“Hello?”

And a second later shot up to sit.

Suga hid his grin by curling into himself on his side. 

“Morning Akiko-san.”

Suga wasn’t able to bite back his light snickers of amusement of the predicament he had successfully tricked Oikawa to.

“Yes, I was sleeping, but it’s okay. I think _Suga-chan,”_ Oikawa emphasized his name by slapping his shoulder and arm, “left his phone by accident in my room yesterday.” He was using a tone that suggested that he didn’t believe what he was saying – it wasn’t exactly an accident that Suga had ‘left his phone into Oikawa’s room’.

Suga was still beaming, and hiding it under the covers he had pulled up far enough to cover half of his face.

“I’ll bring the phone to him, just a second.” Oikawa slapped Suga’s arm again and hissed, “You’re going to pay for this.”

Suga peeked from his hiding place and looked up to Oikawa innocently, as if he didn’t have a clue what he had done.

Oikawa didn’t look amused at all, but Suga put at least fifty percent of the reason for his grumpy and displeased expression down to the earliness of the hour.  He was happy to take the other fifty percent as a reason for Oikawa’s unamused gaze.

“She wants to talk to you,” Oikawa whispered, his foot nudging on Suga’s.

“I figured,” Suga snorted lightly.

“Take the phone,” Oikawa prompted him, still in a whisper, holding the phone in front of Suga’s face in a way that Suga would have to do something about it if he wanted to see anything else than just the phone. His eyes crossed a little when he took a better look at the device.

Suga waited a moment before he accepted the phone, to play for the time it would take for Oikawa to get up from his bed and walk into Suga’s room, if they had hypothetically slept in different beds, as Suga’s mother was no doubt thinking.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa murmured sweetly. “Your lovely mother is calling and she had something important to talk to you.”

Suga wanted to pinch Oikawa for using such a tone, but took the phone after all with a pointed frown flashed towards Oikawa’s overtly sweet grin. He really wished that he had some salt to throw at the sugary way Oikawa was speaking, to combat the molasses slowly dripping from Oikawa’s tongue.

“Hi mom.” He rolled on his back as he greeted, and tried to sound more tired than he was. He didn’t want to lie to his mother, hated the mere idea of it and he was sure he could break out in an allergy reaction if he ever tried to. Misdirection, vague answers and half-truths that were mostly just selective words were alright with him, but not outright lies. “Why are you calling so early?”

“It’s ten in the morning honey,” Akiko berated with a fond tone. “Why are you still in bed?”

“Because it’s not ten in the morning, it’s not even eight.”

His mother was laughing, the sound light and filled Suga with warmth.

“You’re awake enough to check the time. At least your eyes are open then.”

“Why are you calling?” Suga skipped his mother’s teasing and wanted to get straight to the reason his mother had even called. His decision for speeding up the process of talking to his mother might’ve been affected by the fingers he could feel softly card through his hair and travel down his neck.

“Straight to business then, alright,” she agreed and another laughter tinkled down the line to Suga.

“That way I can get back to sleep quicker,” Suga replied as best as he could without letting the shivers he felt at the light touch of Oikawa’s fingertips down his arm and then back up again to be heard in his voice.

“You left your phone in Tooru’s room again. Why is that?”

Suga sighed at the question. Of course his mother would be as difficult as he was being. He glanced at Oikawa, who was sitting leaning against the headboard and looking down at him, his idle fingers playing with his hair while his other hand was occupied with teasing with light touches as his fingers traveled across the skin that he had access to.

“I was helping him, and the phone was forgotten in his room.” It was more or less a truth, as much as it was a lie, and Suga felt a little bad. He really hoped she would stop asking questions he wasn’t ready to answer yet.

He could hear his mother hum shortly, and he really hoped that she didn’t think he was lying. He was nervous enough about it to fiddle with the edge of the covers. 

“You should take better care of your phone. One of these days you’ll forget it somewhere public and someone is going to steal it.”

“I take good care of it when I’m out. Don’t worry,” he assured her, and let out a deep and long breath of relief. “Now can you tell me why you’re calling so early?”

“Well, I’m about to drop off invitations to the mail and I just thought of Tooru’s siblings.”

“Right.” Suga sat up, but not without a groan when his muscles protested the sudden movement. His skin already craved for Oikawa’s touch when his fingers slipped away from the hair and couldn’t reach the arm anymore. “Can you wait for a moment?”

“Sure, honey.”

“I just need a minute,” Suga said hurriedly and slipped out of the bed, putting the phone down for a minute and his mother’s call actually _on hold._ “Where’d you throw my underwear last night?” he whispered to Oikawa, even though his mother couldn’t hear them.

“I have no idea,” Oikawa answered with a teasing grin, and Suga suspected the truthfulness of his words, based on the amused way Oikawa was watching him as he searched for his clothes.

Suga couldn’t see his underwear anywhere, but he did see Oikawa’s pajama bottoms folded on a chair, and he pulled them on. “And shirt?” He looked to Oikawa again, already expecting the answer to be anything but helpful.

Oikawa’s smile widened as he opened his arms out in a vague shrug. With his mother waiting, Suga wasn’t in the mood for Oikawa’s theatrics, though, and went to Oikawa’s closet and took out the first shirt that his hand touched.

Oikawa’s mouth was wide open in shocked indignation as he followed Suga’s brazenness of just taking something that was his straight out of the closet without asking.

Suga knew he wouldn’t mind, even though he was very believable in the shocked part in his little play of flair and dramatics.

Suga only bared a quick glance at him when he was somewhat dressed and went to pick up his phone, and in the next second he was already leaving Oikawa’s room and talking to his mother. He did, however, throw a mischievous grin over his shoulder by the room door at Oikawa, who was still gaping, clearly waiting for a reaction from Suga that he didn’t get.

“Sorry for that,” Suga said almost breathlessly after his hurried dress up.

“It’s alright, honey,” she laughed. “Tooru was right next to you, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“He already knows about the party, you don’t need to go out of your way to keep it a secret from him anymore.”

“How could he know?” Suga asked as he continued down the hallway, although he already had inkling of how Oikawa had come to know about it.

“I might’ve mentioned it to him, months ago,” Akiko said so off-handedly Suga felt a little offended, and betrayed as well. Also, a little proud to have already guessed right.

“It was supposed to be a secret.”

“Oh, honey, if everyone in your building already knows, he was bound to find out anyway.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have told him.”

“I like him.”

Suga was stopped by his mother’s proclamation, spoken as the one and only truth in the world, like the sky is blue and fish don’t fly unless they’re thrown in the air. But, he wasn’t certain why his mother had said it now.

“Okay?”

“That’s why I told him.”

Suga scratched his head, wished to wash his face after sleep, and took a seat by the kitchen island, looking out the window as he often did when he spoke with his mother. “You were saying something about Tooru’s siblings.”

“Yes,” his mother made a sound as if she just remembered it. “I was wondering if they should be invited too. Is Tooru close with them? I never really found that out. He sometimes speaks about them.”

“They’re somewhat close,” Suga agreed, thinking back to the times Oikawa had mentioned his brother and sister, or overheard a phone call Oikawa was on with one of them. “I can check, since he apparently already knows about the party,” he muttered the last part.

“You must’ve have known he already knew.”

“And I’ve tried my best to deny the very existence of any planning for a party that might be going on when he asks or mentions it.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I know you wanted it to be a surprise.”

Suga could hear how genuine her apology was, and wasn’t really angry at all. He was smiling a little as he drew miscellaneous shapes onto the island top with his index finger. “I’ll ask him about his siblings, and I’ll let you know.”

“Please do it as soon as possible.”

“I will,” Suga promised and he noticed Oikawa stalk from the hallway, his hair a mess and the overall appearance like he was on a hunt for coffee. “I’ll see you soon,” he said goodbye to his mother then, softly and with a little bit of longing, and hung up.

“Were you discussing the party plans again?” Oikawa asked as he started to make his coffee, his tone delighted and at odds with his sleepy look of slight grumpiness.

Suga pulled the ends of the sleeves over his hands and wrapped his arms around his knees as he pulled his legs up. “We did,” he decided to admit, since Oikawa already knew about the damn thing that was supposed to be a surprise. Plus, he was eager to see if Oikawa would somehow react to it after the many times of him refusing that there even was a party coming up.

Oikawa did satisfy his curiosity by turning to look at him with his eyebrows high. “Oh?”

“Do you want your siblings to come?” Suga asked softly, a little anxious to bring them up, but he needed to find out. He didn’t give Oikawa time to process the admittance of party on purpose as he steamrolled into the possibly sensitive topic of Oikawa’s family.

“Um...” Oikawa said, as eloquently as a sloth if sloths could speak, and turned back to the coffee maker. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Suga checked cautiously, because Oikawa didn’t sound sure at all.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Oikawa was nodding. “I just want the family that I’ve found to be there.”

Suga felt the need to reach out for Oikawa and comfort him in some way. “You mean all of us?” he asked with a warm smile, eyes intently watching the line of Oikawa’s shoulders, how they tensed and then relaxed.

Oikawa turned around to lean his back to the counter, and Suga was pleased to see him smiling as he nodded his head as an answer, instead of forlornly and a little disgruntledly looking at nothing, which was sometimes the case when Oikawa’s real family somehow came up in a conversation. It was a rare occurrence, but Suga had learnt the signs quickly.

“I’ll let her know.” Suga reached for his phone and quickly sent a message to inform his mother.

“Your mom is really sweet to plan the party.” Oikawa spoke as the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. Suga glanced up from his phone and saw how Oikawa’s smile turned into a frown. “It’s hard to believe you’re her son.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Suga asked with a laugh, putting his phone away and standing up to make himself some tea to drink with his breakfast, abandoning the idea of going back to sleep. He might as well stay up now that he was up, even though it was early.

“That you’re mean and she isn’t.”

Suga tilted his head with exasperation. “How am I mean?”

“You tricked me to answer your phone.”

“There was no tricking happening,” Suga defended as he filled the kettle with water and flipped it on.

“There was some tricking happening and you’re going have to make it up to me.” Oikawa pouted a little and crossed his arms in front of his chest, giving a resemblance to a petulant child.

“And how am I to make it up to you?” Suga inquired with amusement, but with a sweet smile, and took a step closer to Oikawa.

“With kisses,” Oikawa answered straight away. “Lots and lots of kisses. Starting with a ‘good morning’ –kiss.”

“Hmm,” Suga pretended to mull it over as he took one more step so he was standing almost toe to toe with Oikawa, his hands behind his back. “I think I can do that.” He looked as innocent as he could to hide his mischievous plans and placed a gentle hand on Oikawa’s cheek, leaning closer slightly on his tiptoes to kiss Oikawa’s other cheek. And blew a raspberry on it.

“Suga-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed with unbridled indignation as Suga took quick steps back so Oikawa couldn’t reach him. There was laughter following Suga as he skipped around the kitchen island, Oikawa chasing after him.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss!” Oikawa protested. “Come back here!” he kept laughing. 

Suga laughed with Oikawa, happy to know that Oikawa wasn’t really mad with him or all that disappointed with the mock of a kiss, so he and let Oikawa catch up, the hurt muscles and limbs and everything in his body protesting his quick moves, or moves altogether.

“You wanted a kiss, you got a kiss,” Suga said with delight as Oikawa wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and pulled him back against his chest.

“That wasn’t a kiss,” Oikawa insisted, his breath hot on Suga’s neck. “I want a real kiss,” he demanded with a pout as he moved Suga to the counter and caged him in with his arms.

Suga was laughing, leaning back to the counter and looking up a bit to see Oikawa’s eyes. “If you want a real kiss, you should let me wash up first.” He still wished to go through his morning routine of washing his face.

Oikawa still pouted a little, but sighed. “Fine,” he gave in with his mission for kisses, bent down a little to give a quick, soft peck on Suga’s lips, and let him go.

“I’ll be right back,” Suga promised with a smile, a smile that widened when he saw how Oikawa made the birds nest on his head even bigger with a distracted scratch when he went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga had kept his promise of more kisses when he came back to the kitchen, giving a small peck every time Oikawa leaned in closer, filling his head with clouds and loving haze. And Oikawa was immensely glad and more importantly unbelievably happy as he cleaned up after their breakfast. Suga had sat down on a couch a minute earlier, when Oikawa had refused to let him help.

“I think I need to study today. A lot. I have a lot to memorize.” Oikawa spoke, as if he was still deliberating on it, as if he hadn’t already made the decision to stay far away from their apartment during the party that was bound to be horrid. He put the washed coffee pot back to where it belonged and dried his hands on the kitchen towel.

“Okay,” Suga agreed easily, his back towards Oikawa, as per the position of the couch. “Have fun,” he added so off-handedly Oikawa was about to get a little offended. But more than that, he was intrigued.

“You don’t mind?” he checked as he made his way to the living room.

Suga looked up to him, tilting his head back and to the side to see him. “Should I?” he asked with a playful smile.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa replied honestly, imperceptibly shrugging. “Don’t you mind that you have to think of something to do on your own for the duration of Noya’s party?” He moved around the couch while he spoke and sat down on it, pressed against Suga’s side so close he was almost sitting in Suga’s lap.

“I think I’m actually going to stay here.” Suga replied with his focus on his phone. “To make sure that the party doesn’t get out of hand and nothing gets trashed and no one gets arrested because of noise complaints.”

“Don’t flirt with too many guys.” Oikawa warned with a flirty voice and a cocky smile. As if Suga would do that anyway. “Or the cops when they’re called to break up the party.”

“No promises.”

Oikawa’s eyes opened wide at Suga’s casual remark.

“Maybe someone has something better to offer than you do,” Suga continued with a mischievous smile that was still directed down and not at Oikawa.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes with faux-suspicion. “You wouldn’t,” he half-whispered, half-hissed with horror.

“I wouldn’t flirt with handsome men?” Suga finally acknowledged his presence by putting the phone away next to him on the couch, looking at him with an adorably quirked eyebrow. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

Oikawa was affronted, at first, until a thought popped into his head.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you single,” he realized, saying out loud out of accident when he only meant to think it. “You were dating Terushima when I moved here.” He thought back, said the name with obvious distaste and a poorly suppressed grimace, and continued as if there hadn’t been anything out of usual in his sentence. “And then you were getting over the heartbreak. And then me.”

Oikawa looked at Suga when he finished with his timeline. “Right?”

Suga nodded with a sweet, small smile.

“So,” Oikawa drawled the word, making it longer than necessary, as he sought the words with which to continue. “You’re a flirt?” There was a note of disbelief in his voice – he didn’t quite take it seriously that Suga would be a flirt.

“Why are you astonished? This cannot be a surprise to you.” Suga laughed and he pulled his legs next to him on the couch as he turned towards Oikawa. “We flirt with each other twenty-four seven.”

“Yes, _we_ flirt,” Oikawa emphasized and Suga cocked his head to the side with sympathetic smile. 

“I just didn’t know you’d do it with others too.” Oikawa spoke with a let-down pout, picking at the fabric of his pants.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” Suga was looking at him with mild concern, a bit of an alarm in his voice if Oikawa heard it correctly.

And no, he wasn’t jealous. Much. But Suga didn’t need to know that.

“No, of course not,” he blatantly lied, speaking as if it was completely unheard of and unthinkable that he would get jealous.

“You don’t need to worry.” Suga took his hand as he whispered with reassurance. “I’ll probably be too busy looking after the kids at the party to really enjoy the flirting.”

“Then why do it at all?” Oikawa inquired, demanded to know with a low and soft voice.

Suga didn’t answer right away, and Oikawa was transfixed on the way Suga’s fingers played with his. Suga’s touch was soft and playful, the way his fingers glided among, over and between his was soothing and it almost made Oikawa forget what he had even asked. Until Suga did answer, that is.

“I won’t flirt with anyone if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Oikawa moved his gaze slowly from their intertwined hands to Suga’s eyes, that were cast low and he presumed Suga was watching the play of their fingers.

“It does, so thank you,” Oikawa replied as softly as Suga had spoken.

“Okay,” Suga seemed to nod as he looked up to Oikawa with a faint smile. “But if I’m not flirting with anyone at the party, you need to take responsibility for the onslaught of it when you get back home.”

Oikawa chuckled, not minding the idea of Suga continuously saying or doing something flirty with him one bit. “I would be honored to take on the responsibility,” he said in a haughty voice and a hand pressed over his heart.

“Good,” Suga sighed happily and pressed against Oikawa’s side, his head rested on Oikawa’s shoulder. “Want to watch something? I don’t have anything to do until Noya gets here.”

Oikawa agreed easily, even though he felt the need to study deep in his bones and underlying all his thoughts. But he figured he could catch up on the studying later that night, when he escaped the party that Suga was already painting to be wilder than any of the parties that had already been held in their apartment since Oikawa had moved in. Yes, he made the decision to study later when Suga hooked one of his legs over his, and he blindly patted the seat next to him for the remote as he brought and crossed his long legs on the couch in front of him, his knee touching and on top of Suga’s. “Preferences?” he checked from Suga as he started to flip through the options.

“Porn.”

Oikawa sputtered at the deadpan suggestion and started to laugh. “You can’t be serious!” he managed to get out through his laughter.

“What?” Suga asked innocently, too innocently, as he lifted his head to look at Oikawa.

“We’re going to watch something cute to get your mind out of that track.” Oikawa resumed pressing on the buttons of the remote, looking for a something mild and boring, maybe a documentary.

“You’re the one who was been pestering me for kisses all morning,” Suga stated with disbelief. “And now there’s something wrong with porn?” Suga’s voice grew curious, a little teasing, but Oikawa remained serious, steadfastly looking forward and not at Suga.

“I have nothing against it. I just know that I’m not going to watch it with you in the living room when the front door is open for visitors.”

“Could be hot.”

“No,” Oikawa said sternly, stopping his search as he lifted his index finger at Suga. “Suga-chan, no.” He felt the need to add a word more negative and denying than ‘no’ when he saw Suga’s far too pleased and teasing expression, but his mind was drawing a blank. “Just... No.”

Suga giggled lightly next to him, as if he was terribly amused by Oikawa’s refusal to watch porn. “Okay,” he agreed, still giggling.

And my, did Oikawa adore that sound.

“On a laptop in bed some other day then.”

Oikawa’s brain short-circuited.  He had thought and fancied himself to not be so easily flustered when the subject of conversation veered to sex, but Suga seemed to have that effect on him. It was new and Oikawa wasn’t sure how to cope and deal with his mind’s stumbling.

“Go sit on the other couch,” he directed Suga, a hint of a frustrated laughter in his voice, and pushed on Suga’s shoulder for him to move away. He couldn’t think clearly with Suga pressed against him, giggling and suggesting sexy things.

But Suga came back from the push he had accommodated easily and eagerly. “Why?” he laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he had ever heard. “Are you getting hard?”

“No,” Oikawa answered quickly with a furrowed brow. He wasn’t looking at Suga, although he felt and saw from his peripheral how Suga sat up next to him and lifted himself a little higher. Before he had managed to fully comprehend what Suga was doing, the silently chuckling boyfriend of his had cupped his cheeks and planted a kiss on his lips.

“Seriously, Suga-chan,” Oikawa warned and put his free hand on Suga’s hip when he straddled his lap. “Anyone could come in at any moment.”

“I know,” Suga whispered against his lips, his hands still gently but securely cupping Oikawa’s cheeks. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

Oikawa smiled at the gesture, at the thought that Suga had just wanted to kiss him, and moved his hand from Suga’s hip to wrap his arm around Suga’s waist when he received another soft peck on his lips.

But in the next second Suga was already moving to sit next to him, and then took the remote from him. “We’re watching Kiki,” he declared. “There’s nothing in it that can make me horny.”

Oikawa laughed at Suga’s words, and pressed a kiss on Suga’s cheek, and then on his shoulder, before Suga was back where they had started from – head softly resting on Oikawa’s shoulder, tucked close next to each other.

“And the other Ghibli movies have something hot to you?” he questioned, an amused lilt in his voice. He placed his hand in familiar move on Suga’s thigh, just to keep it there, that’s all. Just to have that contact.

“No.” Suga replied with a surprised laughter. Maybe he hadn’t even considered any of the other movies and was taken aback when Oikawa asked about it. He shifted a little in place so he was even more snuggled on the couch and against Oikawa. “I just haven’t seen Kiki in ages so we’re watching it now.” His voice had the air of decisiveness in it, so Oikawa didn’t contest the choice of movie any further.

If only they could have enjoyed it for long enough to see Kiki actually fly on her broom, but alas, they weren’t as lucky.

“Are you watching Kiki?” Iwaizumi’s incredulous and amused voice asked as soon as they heard the door, and they both turned to look.

Oikawa frowned at Iwaizumi. “How’d you get in?”

“I used Daichi’s key.” Iwaizumi held the key in his hand for them to see, and then put it in his jeans’ pocket. “I came to talk to Oikawa.” He gestured towards Oikawa with his chin, but he was definitely looking at Suga when he said it, looking at him.

“I’ll leave if you promise to be nice,” Suga told him.

Oikawa realized he was holding his breath as he anticipated Iwaizumi’s reply.

“Promise.”

Iwaizumi sounded genuine when he said it, but Oikawa couldn’t find the ease it should had brought him as he was still breathing too lightly, barely at all. He didn’t want Suga to leave them alone. He didn’t want to talk to Iwaizumi, not yet, not after yesterday and the uncomfortable dispute that had taken place in front of Iwaizumi and Daichi’s front door. And he definitely didn’t want to fight with Iwaizumi when Suga could hear them.

But Iwaizumi had promised on his part not to fight.

Biting his bottom lip with a new kind of anxiousness, Oikawa looked at Suga, and realized he was waiting for a promise from him too.

“Fine, promise,” he consented and sat up straighter to pause the movie as Suga got up, leaving him with a lopsided warmth – his left side cool room temperature and right side suddenly feeling colder when Suga’s body wasn’t pressed against it anymore.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” Suga offered in a kind voice, picked up the duck that was slowly waddling towards the living room, and booked it out of the living room in short shuffling steps. For just a moment, the shortest moment, Oikawa got the hilarious image Suga made, as if he was a duck thief, or a duck kidnapper. He made sure to entertain himself with the thought further some other day. Right now he didn’t have the luxury for it, for Iwaizumi was sat down on the coffee table in front of him, and he tucked the image in a safe corner in his brain.

If Iwaizumi had noticed that the shirt Suga was wearing was a size too big and obviously Oikawa’s, he didn’t show it. Oikawa wasn’t sure if he liked that Iwaizumi didn’t notice or mention it. Something in him wanted Iwaizumi to make a note of it, but he couldn’t properly sulk on it or even hint about it before Iwaizumi was speaking.

“We need to talk,” Iwaizumi stated the obvious in a tone that left Oikawa without the option to object.

He hated it when Iwaizumi used that voice, and merely blinked in response.

“And you know it too,” Iwaizumi added.

“But do we have to?” Oikawa quirked his eyebrow, asking it childishly just to irk Iwaizumi. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something oddly gratifying to witness Iwaizumi bristle.

“Yes, we have to,” Iwaizumi stated sternly, reminding Oikawa of their strict math teacher, who Oikawa had really disliked through high school. “You know we have to, so quit the immature crap.”

Oikawa crossed his arms and fixed Iwaizumi with an unamused and bored look, pursing his lips a little.

“I thought you’d at least like to do it for Suga,” Iwaizumi pointed out in a softer tone, more kinder tone that Oikawa had heard him speak in in years.

“I’m not apologizing for my feelings,” Oikawa said immediately. He knew in his heart that Iwaizumi was right, and he could tell that Iwaizumi knew he had struck a chord within him by mentioning that this was what Suga wanted.

“I’m not asking you to,” Iwaizumi kept speaking in the kind voice, and Oikawa wasn’t really sure how to take it, what to do with it.

“Then what are you here for?”

“You know, I don’t actually like fighting with you,” Iwaizumi spoke with hesitance, stalling with every other word.

Oikawa could sense and hear how much it pained Iwaizumi to admit it, but he kept his face blank not to show his victorious smile. The childish want to bother and annoy Iwaizumi had been left behind somewhere along the mention of Suga’s name.

“But it feels like it’s the only way to get you to listen to what I’m trying to tell you. It isn’t true at all, though, and I know it, because you become even more impossibly headstrong when we fight.”

Oikawa briefly wondered if that was true, and maybe it was. But there was the big difference that he and Iwaizumi had – he actually liked fighting with Iwaizumi, at times and within reason. It proved to him that Iwaizumi still wanted to be his friend, and there was a sick need for him to push Iwaizumi at times to prove to himself that they were still friends.

“What are you here for?” Oikawa asked again, a little more pointedly now to get to the end of the awkward conversation.

“To try and come to a mutual understanding.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow with confusion, wondering on what Iwaizumi meant.

“Mutual understanding? You sound like Makki.”

“Yeah, well,” Iwaizumi scratched his neck, nervous habit of his that Oikawa had once upon a time found endearing. “I spoke to him last night, for hours, after you and Suga left.”

“And he suggested for us to try and come to a mutual understanding?”

Iwaizumi confirmed his guess to be right with a single nod, his eyes heavy and piercing as they looked at him, pleaded him to co-operate.

“Fine,” Oikawa drawled with a sigh. “What do we need to understand then?” He shifted a little on the couch, bringing his legs out in front of him and to rest on the coffee table so he could prod at Iwaizumi’s thigh with his toes if he wanted to do so. He held off with the prodding for now, though, as he wanted to find out where their ‘mutual understanding’ would go to.

“I need to understand that you’re not going to apologize to me for breaking up with me.”

“I don’t see why I’d need to. I didn’t love you anymore; it would’ve been cruel to you to stay together and we both would’ve been unhappy.”

“I know that.” Iwaizumi acknowledged and he lifted his legs on the couch next to Oikawa. “And you need to understand that I’m never going to forgive you for how you broke up with me.”

“I can live with that,” Oikawa promised, his tone light but not in a way that it belittled what Iwaizumi had said. “But I am sorry for how I broke up with you,” he added in a quieter voice, the tone gentle and soft in a way he hadn’t spoken to Iwaizumi in years.

“You are?” Iwaizumi was visibly surprised.

Oikawa nodded a little and licked his bottom lip as he prepared what he wanted to say before he said it, just to get it out right.

“I was hurting a lot back then, and I needed to take that out on someone. It happened to be you. I know it was unfair that I blamed you for everything. But I was miserable and misery loves company so I wanted to make everyone around miserable as well.” Oikawa had averted his gaze to his hands that were picking on the slightly frayed fabric of his old sweatpants.

“I figured it was something immature like that that made you do it, made you hurt everyone around you.”

“I was really hurting then,” Oikawa said with a pained voice, letting his true feelings about his hurt knee come out of his mouth unfiltered and unedited.

“I know,” Iwaizumi acknowledged softly, and with a sheepish smile.

Oikawa took a deep breath to collect himself, and tucked his hands between his thighs.

“I’m sorry for blaming you for everything that went wrong in our relationship. You weren’t the only one for me to blame and I’m sorry I did so.” Iwaizumi spoke quietly, like Oikawa had when he apologized. As if the words of their apology were too fragile to be spoken in normal voice, in fear that anything normal would break or distort something so rare. “And I’m sorry for always bringing up the break up. I don’t know why I do that.”

“I actually do,” Oikawa stated with a tilt of his head towards Iwaizumi. “You’re still hurt by it.”

“I’m trying not to be. I don’t want to be hurt by it anymore.”

“Try harder.”

Iwaizumi breathed out an amused scoff and nudged Oikawa’s thigh with his foot. “Shut up,” he said with a small smile then, a smile that Oikawa responded to with a slightly wider one of his own.

An amicable silence fell on them, and neither was eager to break it as they looked away from each other but not in a way that they were ignoring each other.

But the clock was ticking, and Oikawa had already wasted a large portion of his morning on not studying, and felt the pressure of losing precious time.

“So...” he trailed off in a gentle voice not to bring the silence into an abrupt halt. “We cool now?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked, widening his eyes a little in the process, knowing he’d look more open and courteous that way.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi breathed out. “We cool.”

Oikawa grinned at Iwaizumi’s wording.

“Do you want to run off to tell Suga that we made up?” Iwaizumi gestured towards the hallway, from where Oikawa only now noted the soft music carrying through the air to the living room. Had Suga put on music to give them even more privacy, to make sure he wouldn’t hear a word of their conversation?

“It can wait,” Oikawa replied confidently, touched by Suga’s thoughtfulness. “Do you think it will be this easy to make up with Daichi too?”

“I don’t know.”

Oikawa could tell Iwaizumi was being honest with his answer.

“He’s being unusually and very uncharacteristically petty, so I have no idea what’s going through his head. You might get it, though, since you’re always petty.”

“Hey!” Oikawa exclaimed with irritation. “I thought we were friends again. Why are you being mean?” He felt the sudden and irrational want to nudge Iwaizumi hard enough so he’d fall off the coffee table.

“To keep you grounded,” Iwaizumi replied easily, the answer rolling off his tongue smoothly. “Your ego is filled with helium and it easily floats higher than humanly possible if it’s not tied to a rock.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Iwaizumi to let him know he wasn’t pleased at all with the description of his ego. There was nothing wrong with confidence. He softened his expression, though, when he saw Iwaizumi smile at him, a real genuine smile. It was like a blue moon, only appearing every two or three years.

It was that smile that he had fallen in love with, years ago. It was nothing compared to Suga’s smiles, though, Oikawa was quite happy to note.

 

 

...

 

 

Two days later, their apartment still smelled of fire and smoke, Suga and Oikawa were still cleaning up food from all corners of their apartment and picking up shards of glass from various places. Once they were sure they had found them all, the next day they would stumble upon another one. They were lucky that the duck had survived the chaos, and that it hadn’t somehow ended up baked or grilled or plucked.

Bokuto would’ve been mad if that had happened, even if he was partly to blame for the catastrophic events that had taken place.

The party Nishinoya had thrown had quite literally been nothing short of a disaster. If anyone could have foreseen it, they must’ve been the best fortune teller in the world.

Or maybe, anyone could have predicted the catastrophe.

And all Oikawa knew about it when he got home that night was the disturbing image of Nishinoya sloppily and very unsuccessfully putting out a fire in the kitchen, Yaku chasing after Kuroo with an umbrella in hand, a very drunk Akaashi standing on a make-shift stage on a coffee table and shouting along to the song playing, Asahi mopping up the large puddle on the kitchen floor, an overturned pot lying on its side next to it. Someone Oikawa didn’t know was blowing a balloon, just to release it and let it fly away, while someone else Oikawa hadn’t had the pleasure to make acquaintance with, handed him a new balloon (Oikawa wasn’t sure if he wanted to meet them). Here and there the last partiers had straggled and were still lingering, just watching everyone else tend to the little disasters, and some of them encouraging the madness.

“What the hell happened?” Oikawa asked loudly when he had taken most of it in and grimaced at the sight of a long gash on one of the couches, the stuffing spilling out and strewn around.

Suga was the first to turn to look at him.

“Hi honey,” he greeted with a smile, but Oikawa noticed the tightness of it. “Welcome home.” Suga wiped his forehead with his forearm as he walked up to him, the look of utter exhaustion in his features. He was taking a sidestep every two steps and it took a moment and a look down to the floor for Oikawa to notice the jagged fragments of glass. “Noya’s grounded.”

“Got it,” Oikawa acknowledged slowly as he took another assessing look of the fiasco in their apartment. “Do I want to know how this all happened?” He took a startled step back when Kuroo and Yaku ran past him, the latter still swinging the umbrella like a hatchet.

“No, you don’t.” Suga shook his head gravely and let out an exhausted sigh. “Noya, I told you to put a lid on it. It’s a grease fire.”

“It won’t extinguish this.” Nishinoya, with an excited glint in his eyes, gestured wildly at the fire in the pot, the movements of his hands close enough to the fire that Oikawa was sure his sleeves would catch onto fire as well.

“Yes it will.” Suga spoke with a tired strain in his voice.

Nishinoya, with his sleeves luckily and by some miracle unscathed, went to pick up a lid from the cabinet next to the stove, and put it carefully over the flaming pot. “Oh, it does work.”

Suga sighed again and turned back to Oikawa. “I’m exhausted,” he said quietly and Oikawa pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Suga’s frame. “He tried to put it out with water first, which only made everything worse.”

Oikawa felt Suga press his forehead into his chest, Suga’s hands grab the front of his sweater. As bad as everything looked right now, if Nishinoya had thrown water on the grease fire in the pan (why was he even making food at the time?), he didn’t even want to think how much worse everything had been ten minutes ago.

“I don’t see Makki or Mattsun.” He made a note of their absence. The two would’ve likely been instigating some of the chaos as well.

“They left hours ago, looking at each other like they were about to eat each other.”

Oikawa acknowledged Suga’s words with a noncommittal grunt when the running duo whizzed past them again, the umbrella swinging dangerously close to other people’s heads and knocking on the ceiling lamp.

“Why is Yaku chasing Kuroo with an umbrella?”

“I have no idea,” Suga mumbled against his chest.

Oikawa smiled softly at how Suga clung onto him, and felt an overwhelming urge to place a quick kiss into Suga’s hair. But was that too much in front of others?

However, it wasn’t like anyone was paying them any attention – Nishinoya was peeking under the lid to check if the fire was finally out (and Oikawa feared for his eyebrows), Asahi was still mopping the wet floor, Yaku and Kuroo running around somewhere from where only their screams of laughter and the encouraging shouts of watchers-by could be heard, and Akaashi was still giving the performance of his life.

Confident that they weren’t the focus of anyone’s attention, not even Yamaguchi’s who was emptying a tub of ice cream with a large spoon and conversing with another new face, Oikawa pulled Suga closer to him and placed a soft kiss into his hair in a form of affection and comfort. He felt Suga wrap his arms around his waist and grab onto the back of his shirt, but he kept his face still hidden in the sweater.

A loud crash broke Oikawa from his soft moment of reverie that holding Suga gave him, and he almost didn’t want to look. The crash had originated from his right, from the kitchen, and had sounded a lot like a few or all of the shelves in the tall cupboard had been brought down. Of course the crash had caused indiscernible shouting as well, at least three people pointing fingers and laughing at each other and accusing one another of whose fault it was. Oikawa didn’t care; he didn’t even cast a glance to confirm who it was that was shouting.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Suga mumbled against his chest.

Oikawa chuckled softly, and gave another soft peck to his hair, his hand slowly caressing up and down on Suga’s back.

By that time, Akaashi was done with his song, and a slow clapping sound was heard from _under_ the coffee table. Oikawa took a better look with a frown, and sure enough, there was Bokuto’s head poking out from one side, and his feet from the other side, clapping more and more enthusiastically as Akaashi made deep bows of mock gratitude, turning to all corners of the living room. He must’ve been _really_ drunk – Oikawa had never seen him like that.

Oikawa shook his head with an incredulous laugh. Only their friends could be this disastrous and ridiculous and he was about to make a comment about it to Suga to lift his spirits, when he noticed an absence.

“Suga-chan,” he said slowly, his eyes wandering around the living room with careful precision. “Where is Kumamon?” There was a note of horror in his voice that their reckless friends had done something to it.

“Kidnapped.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is on the shorter side, but it was the perfect place to end it at  
> *evil cackles echo of the cave walls*  
> to be continued:  
> \- the make up pt.2  
> \- game night is back!


	44. Chapter 44

 

 

 

Another two days later, the video of Akaashi’s drunken singing from the party had been sent and spread so everyone in their family of friends had it in their phones, and there still was no sign of Kumamon.

Oikawa had thrown himself into his books and study materials in an attempt not to think and worry about it, while Suga had planned multiple rescue missions, all differentiating according to who might’ve taken it.

He was proud of his plans, they were elaborate, naturally, and filled with secret codenames and dangerous missions like climbing up building’s walls with bare hands and hang-gliding from one rooftop to the other. He might’ve outdone himself with the latest, the one he placed on top of the piles of folders and papers that had the plans for his other missions. It contained the words ‘clown disguise, pizza delivery person, a heavy sack of flour and a glue gun’. He had thought of using a sloth as a distraction on this plan as well if he hadn’t already used that in his plan in case Kenma and/or Hinata had taken Kumamon.

He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window – it was raining. Of course it was raining; it had done nothing but rained ever since Kumamon had been kidnapped. It fit Suga’s mood, but did nothing to lift it. He briefly wondered time from time if he should just count the losses and accept that Kumamon was gone, but every time he did so, he pulled himself out of the depressing well and busied himself with something else to do and think.

For example, cooking something for him and Oikawa to eat.

There was no way Oikawa would think of it, and it was something that Suga had noticed the day before when he had realized that Oikawa hadn’t eaten all day during the time that he had shut himself up in his room to study in peace.

And that was the one reason why Suga wasn’t surprised at all to find Oikawa studying by the dining table, his head cradled in his hands as he moved his head from side to side so he didn’t have to move his tired eyes to absorb the text and the knowledge it contained.

Suga stopped by the hallway for a moment and fondly watched how immersed Oikawa was, and with a sigh started to move towards the kitchen. He tried his best not to look towards the living room and to their one couch that had survived the party, where a large space was open and empty.

He turned his back towards the living room when he was next to Oikawa and placed a hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “Take a break,” he suggested in a soft voice, his hand gently massaging Oikawa’s neck.

“In a bit.”

Suga kept massaging Oikawa’s neck for a moment longer, but as he came to the conclusion that Oikawa was too immersed in his memorizing to pay any attention to him, he left him alone. It was time to make dinner anyway.

He kept glancing at Oikawa while he cooked, but he was sure that Oikawa was completely oblivious to it, maybe to even his presence in the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later and Oikawa non-the-wiser of what Suga was doing, the food was ready.

“Tooru,” Suga called to him, for his attention.

“Hm?” Oikawa sounded at best a little distracted, at worst somewhere very far away. He didn’t even look up or show any sign of having actually heard Suga.

Suga still tried to bring him out of it. “Take a break. You’ve been studying for hours.”

“Just a second.”

Suga bit his lower lip, worried, as he contemplated how to proceed. Oikawa had been sitting in the same spot since the morning, even before Suga had gone to the store and had been there when he came back. And still, hours later since, the man hadn’t moved anything but his eyes as he read.

With a sigh Suga went to Oikawa and placed a plate next to the book he closed.

Oikawa finally looked up. _Finally_ Suga got his attention.

“I was reading,” Oikawa snapped, but Suga was unfazed. He had expected a similar reaction from Oikawa.

“You’re getting snippy.” Suga pushed the plate in front of Oikawa. “Eat,” he told him, still speaking softly. “You can keep memorizing after you’ve eaten, unless you end up frying your brain.”

Oikawa scoffed, looking away.

“Eat,” Suga urged one more time. “Do you even realize how long you’ve been sitting there?”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at him.

Suga knew that Oikawa didn’t appreciate being lectured, he was more than just aware of it, but he was worried. The closer the D-Day got, the more stressed Oikawa grew.

“Please eat.” Suga put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder and rubbed it gently. “For me. I’m starting to get worried.”

“Fine,” Oikawa agreed to with a sigh.

“Thank you.” Suga kissed Oikawa’s temple, handed him chopsticks and sat down next to him. “I miss Princess Tutu Ahiru.”

Oikawa looked at Suga like he had lost his mind. And in all fairness, maybe he was right to look at Suga so. Who just says something like that out of the blue? Especially when something much more important and dear to them was missing?

 

 

...

 

 

Well, Suga does, that’s who.

Oikawa would’ve been lying if he’d denied that he hadn’t felt just the tiniest of twinges within himself when Bokuto came the day before and declared that the duck had healed and could return to its home at the zoo. But he was still glad that the duck was gone now. It seriously took away Suga’s attention from him, and Oikawa isn’t one to share those he cares about the most.

But it wasn’t the only thing missing from their apartment, and he felt a little bad for shutting himself off with his books and leaving Suga alone all day when they were both feeling the loss.

“I know,” he admitted with a soft, slightly apologetic smile to convey that he was sorry he wasn’t being there for Suga, who admittedly was fonder of Kumamon, and that duck. He reached for Suga’s hand and squeezed it to offer comfort. Suga smiled appreciatively back at him, and Oikawa would’ve done more if the door hadn’t opened.

“Okay, I’m here,” Nishinoya announced then as he came in, slamming the door closed with a little too much force. “What do I do today?” he was looking at Suga, so Oikawa ignored him altogether and let go of Suga’s hand. He was still a little mad that Nishinoya had let the party get out of hand. It was his party, he had been the host, and he had messed up, bad. And Oikawa wasn’t one to forgive for it as quickly as Suga had.

Actually, now that he thought about it more, he was more than just a little mad.

“I don’t have anything for you to do today,” Suga answered. Nishinoya had reluctantly agreed to help out with the massive clean-up that had to be done after the party; all the trash to be gathered and thrown out, floors washed, dust wiped from all the surfaces, even the top of the high shelves, the bathroom tiles scrubbed and every room vacuumed. Nishinoya had been tasked with fixing the shelves in the tall cupboard in the kitchen too, with a step ladder and fairly impressive knowledge of how to use tools.

“Then what do I do?” Nishinoya looked around himself with a bored expression.

“You feel bad for trashing our apartment and live with the fact that I’m disappointed in you.” Suga answered simply and continued to eat his food.

“It wasn’t only me who made the mess,” Nishinoya protested, but he was quickly silenced by the disappointed look Suga shot at him. “Fine,” he grumbled then and kicked lazily at the floor. “I’ll just sit in the corner then.”

“Don’t be silly,” Suga laughed lightly. “You can sit on the couch.”

“No he can’t.” Oikawa disagreed and engaged in a staring contest with Suga. He was silently willing for Suga to give in and _not_ let Nishinoya sit on the couch, but Suga was strong minded, apparently.

“Sit on the couch, Noya.” Suga looked away from Oikawa to say, tilting to the side a little so he could see the short man.

“Suga-chan, we only have one couch.” Oikawa reinforced his point with a raised eyebrow. “He destroyed the other one and now I’m afraid if he sits on that one, it’ll somehow catch on fire or blow up.”

Suga chuckled again. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said lightly then, his hand rubbing on Oikawa’s shoulder.

When Oikawa turned to look towards the living room, Nishinoya was already lazing on the couch on his back, his head resting on the armrest and his right leg propped over his left knee, his foot slightly moving up and down to the beat of an unheard music, while he was playing something on his phone.

“He doesn’t look sorry at all,” Oikawa commented when he turned back to Suga. “He needs a punishment.”

“I’m pretty sure he likes those,” Suga mused in a low voice, and it took embarrassingly long for Oikawa to get what he really meant.

“Disgusting Suga-chan.” He scrunched his face in disgust. “We’re eating. Don’t mention his kinks to me. I don’t need to know.” He whined while Suga silently laughed next to him.

“Are you opposed to some butt slapping?” Suga inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Oikawa’s jaw dropped open in shock. “Are you serious?” he asked in a low hiss, his eyes wandering down to where Suga’s ass most likely was, as if he could see through the table, and then back to Suga’s eyes. “And why would you mention this in front of him?” Oikawa jerked his head towards the couch.

Suga’s smile turned sly. “Noya?” he called, holding the steady eye contact that was building the atmosphere between them more and more heated.

When there was no immediate answer to Suga’s call, Oikawa turned to take a look. “He’s listening to music?” He was feeling more and more incredulous at the gall of Nishinoya, and more and more offended.

“Mm-hmm,” Suga confirmed right before Oikawa felt a kiss on his cheek. “He can’t hear us,” he whispered to Oikawa, who looked back to Suga warily through narrowed eyes.

“Finish your dinner,” Suga said in a normal voice then and nudged the plate before he stood up and made his way to the living room.

“Hey!” Nishinoya shouted in outrage and shot up to sit when Suga snatched the phone and earphones from him.

“You get this back when you go back downstairs,” Suga told him, wrapping the cord of the earphones around the phone as he came back to the kitchen.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Feel bad and ashamed that you’ve destroyed someone else’s possessions,” Suga answered without looking back.

Nishinoya went back to lying on the couch with a peevish huff, which Oikawa was pleased to hear and see but he felt Nishinoya didn’t have the right to make.

“You’re a strict dad,” he said to Suga when the man sat back down.

“I’m really not,” Suga chuckled lightheartedly. “But he needs discipline.”

Oikawa nodded, agreeing with Suga, proud that he could call Suga his boyfriend.

“Can I get some food?” Nishinoya sat up again and was already climbing over the back of the couch to take a short cut to the kitchen.

“Sure.”

“No.”

Suga tilted his head and looked at Oikawa a little disapprovingly, while Nishinoya seemed to ignore both of them as he made his way to the fridge. The insolence of this one!

“On one condition,” Suga added then, still looking at Oikawa. “Bring Kumamon back, and you can eat.”

Oikawa smirked, and glanced at Nishinoya, who had dived into the freezer, probably looking for ice cream or his beloved popsicles.

“I don’t know where it is,” Nishinoya replied, raising his voice a little at the unfairness he seemed to be experiencing.

“It’s your fault it’s gone,” Suga said, but didn’t accuse. His tone suggested more of a statement than accusation. “So you’re responsible for bringing it back.”

“I don’t even know who took it!”

“Find out,” Oikawa suggested, raising his voice a little as well. “Then, you can eat your popsicle,” he continued in a calm voice and put more food in his mouth.

“Suga,” Nishinoya had a pleading tone when he addressed him. “How am I going to find out where it is? I’ve already asked around and no one has it.”

“Someone has it. As much as I’d like to think it came alive and walked out on its own and is now on an epic adventure around the world, that’s not what happened.”

Nishinoya whined under his breath, crossed his arms, and stomped the floor with a frustrated huff.

Oikawa smirked again.

“You’re being really unfair.” Nishinoya insisted with a frown. When he didn’t get a response from Suga or Oikawa, he huffed again. “Fine, I’ll go look for it.” He grabbed his phone and left, with another slam of the front door.

“Were we too unfair?” Suga asked with a worried quirk of his eyebrows, looking uncertain.

“No,” Oikawa shook his head. “I miss Kumamon too.”

Suga slumped over the table with a sigh, and Oikawa stroked his hair with gentle fingers, with a soft touch.

“He’ll be back.” Oikawa comforted him and offered a reassuring smile.

“I hope you’re right,” Suga whispered and closed his eyes, breathing slow and steady as Oikawa kept combing his fingers through Suga’s hair, multitasking as he finished his food with his other hand.

“I invited Daichi and Iwa-chan over,” Oikawa said quietly, breaking the lull of silence that had filled their apartment.

Suga’s eyes fluttered and he lifted his head up, Oikawa’s hand falling from his hair to his shoulder. “Wait, what? Why?”

“To hang out.”

“Did you and Daichi make up?” Suga looked hopeful, but sounded cautious.

“No, not yet.” Oikawa knew he sounded confident, but he knew he had the right to. “I know you’re worried that we’ll fight again, but I promise it won’t come to that.”

Suga was slightly nodding his head, but looking to the side and biting his bottom lip as he was clearly worried.

Oikawa leaned in closer to him and gave him a quick kiss. “I promise not to fight with him,” he assured, and Suga smiled a little.

“You better not or I’m going to make you look for Kumamon too,” Suga threatened with a light voice.

Oikawa stood up with a chuckle and bent down, his hands placed on Suga’s cheeks, to kiss him again. “I promise,” he spoke between two loving kisses.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Suga smiled up to him.

Oikawa smiled back, his thumb caressing on Suga’s cheek over his cheekbone, and went for one more kiss, that turned into much more when he decided to spent the rest of the evening with Suga instead of studying and memorizing alone.

 

 

...

 

 

“Oiks!” Iwaizumi called into the apartment when he and Daichi arrived, using their key on the downstairs door and walking in through the unlocked apartment door.

“Hi?” Suga peeked from the kitchen with some uncertainty, most likely caused by witnessing Daichi voluntarily in their apartment.

“Hey, Sug,” Iwaizumi greeted him. “Where’s Oikawa?”

Suga eyed them for a moment, looking between them with disbelief. “In his room. Did you just call me ‘Sug’?”

“Great,” Iwaizumi stated as he decided to bypass the sudden nickname and beckoned for Suga. “Let’s go get pizza.”

“Are you sure it’s okay to leave these two alone?” Suga was still uncertain as he put away the mug he had been drinking from.

“It’ll be fine,” Iwaizumi assured, leaning casually against the wall by the door while Daichi finished unlacing his shoes to take them off.

“I won’t hurt him,” Daichi reassured as well as he headed towards the hallway.

“Hey,” Suga said softly as he grabbed Daichi’s arm to stop him for a moment. “I like him,” he whispered, so heavy with meaning that even Iwaizumi could hear it.

Daichi smiled softly at his best friend. “I know, don’t worry we’ll be fine.”

“Okay, well...” Suga trailed off and glanced towards the hallway and let go off Daichi’s arm. “Could you take the cookies out of the oven in about five minutes when the timer goes off?”

“You made cookies?” Daichi looked to the kitchen, and Iwaizumi saw how his nose twitched a little as it trained towards the smell.

“Please, remember to take them out in five minutes so they don’t burn.” Suga pressed, bordering on pleading.

“I got it,” Daichi promised then, patting on Suga’s shoulder.

Suga didn’t look convinced when he came to the door. “If they kill each other, you’re dealing with the bodies.”

Iwaizumi chuckled at Suga’s threat, but agreed to it as he stepped outside the apartment. “Is the pizzeria still around the corner?” he asked as he held the door open for Suga.

“And after you’ve dealt with their bodies, I’m going to feed you to the sharks, little piece by piece that I’ve cut off with dull kids’ crafting scissors, give a bag of your intestines that I’ve chafed off with a cheese grater to baby vultures, put your teeth through a garlic press –“ Suga recited a list of what was probably the most horrendous things he could think to do to someone as they made their way down the stairs.

“Suga?” Iwaizumi interrupted, but Suga was too busy with his list to stop, to hear the slight alarm and caution in his tone.

“ – and I’ll print flyers with your face on them as a poacher of the chubby unicorns, and lastly, I’m going to make a flute of your spine and give it to the kid who won the contest for the most mucus.”

“Suddenly, I don’t feel like having pizza anymore,” Iwaizumi mused, his voice unaffected by the horrors Suga had described. He knew Suga well enough, or liked to think he did, to know that when Suga started spouting extremes like that, he wasn’t being serious.

“I’m serious, Hajime.” Suga looked at him with murder in his eyes.

“I know, Suga,” Iwaizumi assured, though. After dating Oikawa and having dealt with his murderous rants, he had become desensitized to them, no matter who was speaking. “But you don’t need to worry. They’ll be fine. Daichi wants to make up too.”

“I think I’ll make a necklace of your toes as well and become the witch king.”

Iwaizumi chuckled at the hint of delight in Suga’s voice as he added another threat. “What are chubby unicorns?” he asked then.

“Rhinoceros.”

“Right, of course.” Iwaizumi nodded, chuckling a little more. “Anything else you want to threaten to do to me in the rare case we find Oikawa and Daichi at each other’s throats?”

“You’re paying for pizza.”

And that had Iwaizumi roaring with laughter, stopping in his tracks to hold onto his stomach as he doubled over with the force of his amusement.

Suga was standing by him, watching with the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, that Iwaizumi couldn’t be a hundred percent sure was there since he was busy with laughing.

“And I’ll tell your parents that you and Daichi are dating.”

Iwaizumi’s laughter died in a speed of light and he fixed Suga with the sternest look he could. “Don’t you dare.”

Suga’s face opened with a sweet smile. “Relax,” he soothed and patted Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “I’d never be that cruel.”

He sounded sincere, he looked so sorry it was almost pitying, and Iwaizumi believed him.

After all, if it wasn’t for Suga, he and Daichi would’ve broken up the day they moved in together.

“They really will be fine,” Iwaizumi said once more for effect.

“I trust you,” Suga replied. “It’s just fun to be dramatic now and then.”

“I believe you,” Iwaizumi said, but couldn’t actually identify with Suga’s claim.

“Besides, when else could I threaten anyone with sloths clawing their eyes out?” Suga smiled mischievously, the sweet way only he could. “Or to put their balls into a slicer?”

“What kind of books do you read and what kind of shows do you watch?” Iwaizumi was slightly disturbed by the way Suga seemed to think, of the quick way Suga just seemed to come up with every threat.

“I was born this way,” Suga answered simply as the turned the corner.

Iwaizumi quirked his eyebrow at Suga. “Are you sure your mom’s name isn’t Rosemary?”

Suga laughed at the question. “No,” he still laughed as they got to the pizzeria, the delicious smell of baked dough and melted cheese wafting in the air and invading their nostrils when someone walked by them with their warm pizza box.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi grew somber when they were about to step in through the sliding doors. “You’re not really going to tell my parents about me and Daichi, right?” He had to make sure. He had believed Suga earlier when he said he wouldn’t be that cruel, but he was too paranoid of his parents finding out to be too careful.

“I would never tell them,” Suga said seriously, his tone so honest and sincere Iwaizumi really did believe him. “I’ll take your secret to my grave, and even if I end up in hell and make best friends with the devil, my future husband, I’ll keep it a secret from him too.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi smiled with tight lips, and followed Suga into the pizzeria.

“So, do you think that four pizzas is enough, or do we need eight?” he asked lightheartedly, as if their conversation hadn’t just taken a very serious turn.

“I’m not paying for eight pizzas,” Iwaizumi denied immediately, causing Suga to snicker.

“I’ll pay half of them,” Suga promised then, already taking out his wallet, and Iwaizumi had a feeling that somehow Suga would insist to pay for all of them, and somehow make him agree to it.

 

 

...

 

 

A torturously long wait in the que later, they were waiting for their order by the large windows, sitting on the stools by the long, narrow and tall table set so they could look out, the hot ovens raising the room temperature higher than necessary and too hot to be wearing a thick hoodie. Suga wanted to take his off, but refrained from doing so, knowing it wouldn’t be too long anymore for their pizzas to be ready.

“I’m glad that you and Tooru made up,” he said, looking out the window with his arms loosely crossed on the table and slightly leaning into them.

“Me too,” Iwaizumi agreed in his low and slightly gruff voice, something soft in it, reminiscent of fondness. “Thank you for making it happen.”

Suga looked at Iwaizumi in surprise, not only because of his words, but because of how he said them so sincerely.

“I didn’t do anything.” Suga shook his head as he denied it.

“You did.” Iwaizumi stated confidently. “And I don’t know what you said to Oikawa to have him apologize to me too, but thank you.”

Suga was surprised again and he knew his eyes must have been saucers the size of Australia. “He apologized to you?” He was simultaneously proud of Oikawa and happy for both Oikawa and Iwaizumi. He didn’t have any prior knowledge of what Oikawa and Iwaizumi had said to each other the day that Iwaizumi came over, when they still had Kumamon. Oikawa hadn’t revealed much when Suga had asked, just that they’d made up, and then the party had happened and everything else had been forgotten. Or not forgotten, but pushed to the back of his mind.

“He did.” Iwaizumi was smiling a little, just a funny little upturn of the corners of his lips, but Suga knew it was a smile.

“I didn’t tell him to apologize to you,” Suga said with astonishment in his voice. Oikawa had truly willingly apologized to something he didn’t believe was completely his fault or where he didn’t think he was even a little bit wrong? Was that character growth?

Suga felt so proud.

“You didn’t?” Iwaizumi checked with a little frown, looking slightly surprised as well.

Suga shook his head again, looking straight ahead but not really seeing what was in front of him. He was lucky he wasn’t walking or he would’ve definitely bumped into a lamppost or another pedestrian. “I just asked him to talk to you.”

“Well,” Iwaizumi lengthened the word and sighed. “He did talk to me, and then apologized.”

“What did he say to you exactly?” Suga was beyond intrigued, turning his head to look at Iwaizumi, to see him when he spoke, to see the emotions that were always so well hidden.

“He said that he’s not going to apologize for his feelings, which I understand, but that he was sorry for hurting me.”

“And you forgave him for that?” Suga asked tentatively, braving to smile a little as he looked at Iwaizumi to gauge his expression.

“I did.” Iwaizumi replied with a soft smile – so soft that Suga had no trouble to believe it was the smile that Daichi had fallen in love with – and a proud voice.

Really, the amount of emotions Iwaizumi was so freely showing was starting to mess with Suga’s head.

 

 

...

 

 

At the same time, in a living room where Daichi had somehow managed to metaphorically pull Oikawa to, they were standing far enough from each other that any onlooker would mistake them for strangers.

“Why are you here?” Oikawa asked, sounding a little affronted, but mostly just himself.

“Hajime said you wanted to apologize.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa drawled a little and then took a deep breath as he prepared for it. “We need to make up for Suga-chan.” He faced Daichi fully, to show he was serious, and taller than him.

“So you only want to do it for Suga? You don’t really want to apologize?”

“Us fighting is worrying and stressing him. We need to stop fighting, for Suga.” Oikawa stressed.

Daichi sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“Just stop being a dick and be the best friend I know you can be to Suga.”

Daichi dropped his hand and he just looked at Oikawa, who looked back, not-so-patiently waiting.

“Fine.”

“Good.”

 

And wasn’t that just the most anticlimactic thing that had ever happened?

 

An awkward silence settled around them, with neither of them with nothing to say, and Oikawa shifted from foot to foot as he tried to think of what to do next.

“So?” Daichi raised his eyebrow at Oikawa. “Are we friends now then?”

“If you want,” Oikawa shrugged. “I’d like it, but if you still want to hold some resentment towards me, go ahead.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m actually over the whole thing.” Daichi offered a small smile, like an olive branch, a peace offering.

The oven timer dinged in the kitchen, and Daichi went to take out the cookies. “Suga really has been stressing, huh?”

 

 

...

 

 

Suga was slightly perplexed as he looked at the two men standing away from each other but facing one another as if they were on opposite sides in the lamest staring contest ever when he came home. The mood was awkward, and he was worried about it.

“Are you two fighting again?”

“No, we made up.” Daichi smiled at him.

“You did?” Suga made sure, looking at Oikawa and then back to Daichi.

“If it was always that easy, why couldn’t you do this a long time ago?” Suga asked from them, disbelief coloring his voice.

Oikawa shrugged in response, clearly without an answer to Suga’s question, while Daichi offered a sheepish smile.

“Fine,” Suga sighed as he realized he would never truly get how they had seemingly resolved their fight and made up so easily. “We got the pizza. What now?”

“Movie?” Iwaizumi suggested, already relaxed on the couch after he had dropped off the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter.

“Can we just eat and hang? We haven’t talked in ages.” Daichi suggested. “And please, explain the plethora of cookies.”

Everyone took in the amount of cookies taking up almost all the available counter space in the kitchen.

“Suga’s luring Kumamon back,” Oikawa explained nonchalantly.

“They’re for Asahi.” Suga corrected. “His class is having a bake sale of sorts trying to raise money for a trip to the aquarium,” he then explained to Iwaizumi and Daichi, while he went to get glasses for everyone. He already knew they’d be splitting the two liter bottle of soda he and Iwaizumi had bought when they got the pizzas.

“He teaches five year olds,” Daichi pointed out, accepting the glasses Suga held out and brought them to living room and set down on the coffee table.

“And I bet they’re going to love the aquarium.” Suga stated with a soft smile. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have loved it when you were five.”

“He still would.” Iwaizumi cut in. “You really would,” he said to Daichi then, poking his butt cheek with a toe that Daichi slapped away. “We go on a date there at least three times a year.” He chuckled, with the same fondness that was in his voice whenever, and only when, he spoke to Daichi.

“Do you want to go on an aquarium date?” Suga leaned closer to whisper to Oikawa, who was peeking into the pizza boxes, probably to get an idea of the toppings.

“I’m not five years old, or Daichi,” Oikawa answered casually, closing the last lid. “So, no.”

Suga chuckled and took paper plates and paper towels, heading to living room as well.

“So, why eight pizzas?” Oikawa asked after him, carrying two with him.

“What do you mean?” Suga acted innocent and clueless as he glanced over his shoulder.

“There’s only four of us. Even four pizzas might be stretching it, and more than even our eyes could eat.”

“But we need to keep our fridge stocked with food,” Suga offered the simple reason and sat down in the armchair.

Oikawa put the two pizza boxes on the coffee table. “There’s something wrong with you,” he stated then, and nudged Suga’s leg. “My chair.”

“We won’t both fit,” Suga smiled impishly up to him.

“I’ll sit on your lap,” Oikawa threatened with a deadpan voice, his hands on his waist as he looked down to Suga with a challenge for him to vacate the chair.

“Go ahead,” Suga challenged him back, his eyebrow a little raised. Rookie mistake, since Oikawa took him up on it, and sat in his lap.

“My goodness, Tooru!” Suga’s voice was a mix of laughter and disbelief. “How much do you weigh?”

“Shut up, I’m taller than you,” Oikawa responded casually, while Daichi and Iwaizumi chuckled at them, at the free dinner show.

“Okay,” Suga laughed under Oikawa’s weight and poked him on the side. “Get up, I’ll sit on the floor. That way I at least won’t have sauce on my shirt.”

Oikawa got up with a satisfied smile, and sat back down with a satisfied smile. “Would you rub my feet too now that you’re down there.”

“Bring your feet anywhere close to my food and you’ll need a tracheotomy because I will make you choke on them.”

Everyone laughed at Suga’s sudden threat and overprotective nature of his favorite pizza.

“Don’t worry, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi assured seriously, reaching for a slice of pizza. “He already threatened to make a flute out of my spine.”

“Wow, you’re lucky.” Daichi looked up from pouring soda into the four glasses. “That’s his favorite threat.”

It caused even more laughter, giving the perfect vibe and a start for the rest of their evening.

 

 

...

 

 

The next day, Oikawa had gotten a text from Iwaizumi, reminding him to take a break.

And for the first time, Oikawa locked his phone with a smile and closed his book before he settled down in the living room with plans to spend the rest of the evening with X-files.

He was contemplating upon skipping the episode he was currently watching, when he was surprised when Suga came to the same couch with him and curled on, next to, and pressed against him.

“Hey,” he said cautiously, a little shocked by Suga’s silent presence. “You okay?” He ran his fingers through Suga’s hair softly, watching for Suga’s reaction to his question and touch.

“Just tired,” Suga answered in a slightly quieter voice and he shifted his legs that occupied the remainder of the couch, his face pressed to Oikawa’s stomach with arms wrapped around Oikawa’s waist, and his back to the TV.

“Why?” Oikawa inquired softly, his fingers playing with the soft strands of Suga’s hair.

“The world.” Suga’s answer was just the one word, but somehow Oikawa felt like he understood. “Plus,” Suga added. “Did you know that you twitch in your sleep when you’re stressed?” he asked cryptically, turning his head to look up to Oikawa. “Suddenly your leg just kicks or you suddenly turn like you were electrocuted?”

Oikawa frowned – he didn’t know that. “I do?” he asked with a curious head tilt.

Suga nodded, just a small movement of his head, and blinked slowly.

“Do I keep you up with it?”

“No, not really,” Suga answered quietly and hid his yawn behind his hand. “But I wake up to it whenever it happens.”

“I didn’t realize that,” Oikawa spoke slowly as he mulled on the new piece of information. This would explain the naps he had caught Suga taking the past week. He had assumed Suga missed Kumamon, but this was a good reason too.

“It’s okay,” Suga forgave without hearing an apology and shuffled a little in his place as if he was getting comfortable to fall asleep, lightly nuzzling Oikawa’s belly. His eyes were closed and he exhaled through his nose, content and slow. His hand found its way under Oikawa’s shirt, and it was cool against Oikawa’s skin on his waist.

Oikawa kind of felt bad that Suga wasn’t getting the sleep he needed and had to catch up with naps, which took away time they could spent together. Although, Oikawa figured he could just stay with Suga like this too, and continued to follow the adventures of Mulder and Scully, occasionally snacking from a bag of candy, while his other hand softly pet and played with Suga’s hair.

 

 

...

 

 

“Aww,” Kuroo cooed at the sight of Suga asleep curled on and against Oikawa. 

“Go away,” Oikawa said in a quiet voice, not sparing a glance at the disturber.

“Nope,” Kuroo denied immediately in a cheery voice. Oikawa suspected he was grinning as he sat himself down on the couch at Suga’s feet. “What’s going on?”

“Suga’s tired of the world,” Oikawa explained, pretending to be more focused on the episode he still wanted to skip even though it was already past the half point, and not on how he loved how Suga felt dozing in and on his lap.

“Me too,” Kuroo groan-whined and sprawled over Suga’s legs.

Suga was softly chuckling at the sudden affection he received from Kuroo, but Oikawa was a little annoyed that he had woken Suga up. He didn’t show it though, and was glad when Kuroo pushed himself off of Suga to sit properly. His annoyance might’ve been also caused by the physical closeness and comfortability Suga and Kuroo seemed to have with each other.

“So,” Kuroo started as if he had something important to say when he was sitting upright. “I called your mom to thank her for the care package...” he said to Suga, trailing off as he was already making his point.

Oikawa ate a candy to keep his wide knowing grin as a soft small smile that could just be on his face because Mulder and Scully were doing some cute flirting. 

“And she pretended that she didn’t know what you were talking about?” Suga guessed with a sleepy smile.

Kuroo scoffed lightly, full of laughter. “Right, she _pretended.”_

Suga didn’t react in any way. He must’ve known that Kuroo would find out the truth at some point.

“Thank you for the care package,” Kuroo said then, softer than Oikawa had ever heard the man speak. “I appreciate the thought.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Suga replied. “Just put it to good use.”

“Oh, I already am.” Kuroo smirked. “Especially the condoms.”

“Ew, go away.” Suga pushed on Kuroo’s thigh with his foot. “We don’t need to know about your sex life with Tsukki.”

Oikawa was chuckling where he sat, looking at the TV as if he wasn’t following Suga and Kuroo’s conversation.

“And I’m glad,” Suga added after a short silence.

Oikawa met Kuroo’s happy smile with a look of acknowledgement.

“There’s the Suga I know,” Kuroo stated happily then, patting Suga’s knee. “But seriously, though, thank you Suga,” he said sincerely.

“You’re welcome,” Suga replied genuinely and turned to his other side, his head still in Oikawa’s lap and hand on Oikawa’s thigh. Oikawa felt more than he heard, the contended sigh Suga let out as he snuggled closer. Oikawa took that as a good sign and moved his hand from Suga’s hair to his arm, to slowly trail his fingertips up and down along it the bare and soft skin.

“I’ve seen this episode,” Suga said as he reached for a candy from the bag Oikawa had stashed between his thigh and the armrest.

“Right.” Oikawa replied – he remembered they had seen the episode before together, although it was a couple of months ago. He was pleased that Suga remembered it, even though the episode wasn’t all that special or particularly good. “So?”

“Are you rewatching it _again?”_ Suga questioned, his voice a little higher with incredulity.

“It’s a good one,” Oikawa got defensive over his favorite show. Only he was allowed to question the legitimacy of it.

“It doesn’t even have aliens in it.”

“So?”

Oikawa felt Suga turn his head in his lap, and he looked down for their eyes to meet. Suga’s eyebrows were raised in a silent question that Oikawa didn’t have an answer to.

“Just watch the show,” he advised Suga, gently scratching his fingers on Suga’s scalp with his other hand, and Suga did so, turning his head back and reaching for another candy.

Oikawa was too contented on having Suga so close to him and watching his favorite show to care that Kuroo was sitting right next to them, hearing and seeing their interactions and probably drawing his conclusions about it. He knew that they should tell everyone soon, but it felt nice to keep something just _theirs._ They could always wait another day to tell everyone about their relationship.

“These are good,” Suga commented on the candy – on _Oikawa’s_ candy – as he reached into the bag, pulling Oikawa’s focus again. 

“They’re mine.”

“They’re still good.”

“Don’t eat all of them.”

“I make no promises,” Suga teased. Oikawa was too filled with soft thoughts, like sweet cookies with marshmallow filling, to rise to it, and shut up.

“It’s like a raccoon, how his hand reaches for the bag and goes to get another candy,” Kuroo observed.

Oikawa hummed in agreement and started to gather the hair on top of Suga’s head together.

“Can you give me your hair tie?” he asked Suga after a while, after a moment of all of them just watching the show in silence, all of them with different thoughts and opinions about it.

Suga slipped the hair tie on his wrist off without a question and held it up for Oikawa to take.

“There,” Oikawa announced grandly as soon as he had fastened the small ponytail, Suga now sporting the apple-hairstyle.

“Cute,” Kuroo voiced his opinion, unknowingly agreeing with Oikawa who smiled with satisfaction.

Suga was undisturbed and unbothered by it all as he continued to eat the candy and be enthralled by the TV.

After another while, during which Kuroo got more comfortable on the couch as well, Suga spoke up. “My stomach hurts.” It was more of a statement than a complaint, which amused Oikawa to no end.

“Stop eating the candy then,” he advised with a laugh.

“But they’re so good.” Suga reached for another candy, but was stopped by Oikawa taking the bag away from his reach.

“Stop eating them!” he laughed harder, holding the much lighter bag as far away from Suga as possible. But Suga wasn’t so easily beaten or one to give up, or so it seemed, as he got up a little and lunged after the bag, falling completely over Oikawa with a laugh.

They playfully fought for the bag, both of them laughing, while they forgot that Kuroo was in the same room with them, witnessing it all.

“Can I ask you guys a question?” he interrupted them when the bag had ripped and the contents were falling one by one, or more at a time, on the couch and the floor.

“No.” Suga denied almost instantly as he snuck a candy that had fallen on the couch into his mouth, their wrestling match over the bag left behind.

“Then I’ll just say it,” Kuroo said and shifted a little to fully look at them with a knowing smirk Oikawa was wary of.

“You two should date.”

Suga was half-lying on top of Oikawa, so he felt it when Suga froze at the same time as him. 

“Why?” Oikawa asked with a suspicious frown.

“It might be fun,” Kuroo answered with a shrug. His seeming indifference was false and belied by his smirk.

“For who?” Suga asked, his voice suggesting that Kuroo was out of his mind for suggesting for them to date.

And of course Oikawa took offence on it. “Thanks a lot,” he scoffed and pushed on Suga’s shoulder. 

Suga chuckled lightly and wrapped himself around Oikawa’s more tightly, maybe as an apology, maybe to hide his evil grin of amusement. Oikawa didn’t care about Suga’s motivation to do so after he felt him hold on so tightly, and wrapped his arms around Suga out of instinct.

“Fine, suit yourself.” Kuroo was better at the indifference now. “I just think that you two should date,” he added as an afterthought as he got up.

But Oikawa was suspicious of Kuroo, wondering on what kind of an angle he was working on. What was his motivation to casually suggest that they should date?

His attention was pulled from Kuroo’s motivations to what Kuroo was currently doing and asked him as much when Kuroo walked to the shelf and proceeded to pull out the Monopoly.

Kuroo didn’t get a chance to answer before the apartment door opened again and in walked Bokuto, cooing at the sight of Oikawa and Suga on the couch in the similar fashion that Kuroo had. It prompted Suga to sit up from lying on top of Oikawa, and Oikawa followed his suit and sat up too. If his arm was behind Suga’s back and his hand on Suga’s waist and under his shirt, no one mentioned it.

“Great you’re here,” Kuroo got excited of the arrival of his best friend as he put the game box down on the coffee table. “Is Akaashi coming as well?”

“Yep,” Bokuto answered excitedly as he sat down on the floor by the table and started to help Kuroo set up the game. “He just said he needed to get a bottle or two of wine.”

“Oh, great,” Kuroo stated with zero inflection, hugely contrasting his earlier statement of greatness. “Drunk Akaashi is making a comeback.”

“He never left,” Bokuto proclaimed proudly. “You’ve just missed it for the past weeks.”

“I can’t wait.” Kuroo placed his game piece to the starting square as a punctuation mark to his deadpan words.

“I’ve missed Drunk Akaashi,” Suga commented, and Oikawa looked at him curiously.

“Really?” There might’ve been a hint of jealousy in his voice, but if he’d been called out on it, he would’ve vehemently denied it.

“He’s fun.”

“He’s the best,” Bokuto agreed with Suga, while Kuroo counted the money. “We should wait for him to come before we start playing.”

“As long as he doesn’t take forever,” Kuroo agreed, putting down five piles of money around the table.

“Why are you setting up Monopoly?” Suga asked then, eyeing Kuroo and Bokuto with a happy smile.

“We’re going to play it,” Kuroo answered simply, the ‘duh’ in his voice, without looking up from the game.

Oikawa looked at him with a frown, looked at Bokuto to try and find answers, and then looked back to Kuroo. “Why?”

“Because it’s been forever since the last time we played anything.” Kuroo replied, quite truthfully stating the obvious. “I miss that.”

Oikawa cooed at Kuroo’s longing look, which turned it instantly into a smirk.

“Pick one – top hat or wheelbarrow?” Kuroo displayed the game pieced on his palm.

Before Oikawa could choose, Suga had already snatched the wheelbarrow and Akaashi slipped inside the apartment with soft steps.

“Hurry up, babe.” Bokuto beckoned Akaashi to the living room with his hand. “We’re about to start.”

“Just a minute, Kou,” Akaashi responded and continued to the kitchen with his softly clinking bag.

“I moved the glasses to the left cupboard,” Suga said without looking, busy pushing Kuroo’s car of the game board with his wheelbarrow.

How did Suga know that Akaashi would go straight to open a bottle of wine and pour himself a glass?

Oikawa’s brow furrowed as he pondered on it, smiling to himself as he observed Kuroo flick Suga’s wheelbarrow of the board when he became annoyed of Suga pushing his car.

“You need a new couch,” Akaashi commented a minute later when he came to the living room with one of the few wine glasses that had survived the party and a wine bottle.

“You really do,” Bokuto agreed and Kuroo nodded along.

“We’re looking into it,” Oikawa replied, while Suga went to fetch his game piece from the floor.

“Whatever you decide to do about it, don’t go to Ikea with Suga,” Akaashi warned, but it didn’t register to Oikawa.

He was busy watching Suga crawl on the floor looking for the little wheelbarrow, giving an excellent view of his ass. He was so focused on it, that he didn’t even realize that Kuroo came to sit next to him on the couch until he heard Kuroo whisper.

“Do you want us to leave you alone?”

Oikawa wrenched his eyes away from Suga just when he found the little wheelbarrow from under the tv stand and saw Kuroo’s teasing smirk.

“Yes,” he answered truthfully, stressing the importance of it, but received only a laugh and a “too bad” from Kuroo. His mood was mollified when Suga sat on the armrest next to his side, lifting his feet up on the couch and wiggled his toes under Oikawa’s thighs.

“Let’s play!” Kuroo announced then and sat forward on the couch to reach the die.

“Who says you get to start?” Oikawa demanded to know, snatching the die away from Kuroo.

“The youngest starts.” Kuroo answered deadpan.

“Isn’t that Akaashi?” Bokuto pointed out, looking with a goofy and fond smile at his boyfriend sipping his precious wine.

Said boyfriend, however, was looking at Suga and flicked the end of the small ponytail on top of his head. “Cute,” he made a passing comment at the apple hair, and Suga played it off by shaking and nodding his head, causing the hair in the ponytail to bounce.

“Isn’t what Akaashi?” Matsukawa interrupted, looking at everyone with lazy curiosity.

“When did you get here?” Oikawa asked, distracted enough for Kuroo to steal the die back.

“Now,” Matsukawa replied with a lazy blink of his eyes.

“Are you playing Monopoly and didn’t ask us to join?” Hanamaki asked then, peeking from behind his boyfriend’s shoulder. “That’s rude.”

“We didn’t know you were home,” Kuroo defended, moving his piece on the game board after he clearly disregarded everyone’s earlier statement that Akaashi was the youngest. Not that Akaashi seemed to mind.

“Did you care to check?” Hanamaki implored.

“Nope,” Kuroo smirked up at him, causing scattered laughter to erupt and fill the living room. “By the way, I invited Tsukki as well.”

“Great,” Oikawa said with as much enthusiasm as Kuroo had when Bokuto had announced the arrival of Drunk Akaashi. He dug the remote from somewhere between him and the couch cushions and turned the TV off. He wouldn’t be able to focus on X-files with so many people around talking over it.

“Don’t you like him?” Kuroo asked curiously, his brow furrowed.

“He doesn’t like me.” Oikawa corrected, dropping the remote where he had found it, forgetting its existence in the next second.

Kuroo flipped his wrist. “He’s like that with everyone.”

Oikawa was sure Kuroo meant it, and he’d have to agree with him too. Tsukishima appeared so unaffected by anything, Oikawa was convinced he lacked a heart altogether. Although, the subtle affection and even more subtle touches and looks he traded with Kuroo were plausible evidence against the seeming heartlessness.

All in all, Tsukishima still remained the silent and stone-faced mystery and enigma he apparently wanted to be, not just to Oikawa but to everyone else as well.

The door had barely closed after Hanamaki and Matsukawa when it was opened again, pulling Oikawa from his pondering on Tsukishima and others from their dispute whether it was rude or not that Kuroo and Bokuto hadn’t thought to ask Hanamaki and Matsukawa to join their game.

“Can we make rice?” Hinata asked as he carried Kenma in a piggyback, once again quite literally hitting Oikawa with the cuteness overload. He couldn’t help but think of those cute videos of a kitten and a puppy playing together or sleeping cuddled next to each other, because for some reason, the young couple always reminded him of it.

“Just rice?” Bokuto looked baffled but amused, and interesting combination.

“Yes, just rice.” Hinata confirmed and let Kenma slide off of his back.

“Alright, you do you.” Oikawa was just as baffled as Bokuto, just a little, but felt it was best to let them do as they pleased.

“Hey, so,” Hanamaki started as he looked around himself. “Are you going to get a new couch?”

“You’re really lacking on places for people to sit.” Matsukawa jumped on the same train of thought, casually leaning and simultaneously sitting on the armrest of the couch.

“There’s the floor.” Oikawa gestured with his hand at the expanse of floor that was at everyone’s disposal.

“Why would anyone want to sit on the hard floor?” Hanamaki seemed to pose the question to everyone in the room.

“Here.” Suga reached behind Oikawa and grabbed the cushion behind his back and gently threw it over the coffee table to Makki.” That’s soft.”

Oikawa pouted up at Suga for taking away a cushion from him, but Suga smiled back, the little ponytail slightly bouncing on top of his head.

Hanamaki smiled with his appreciation, dropped the cushion onto the floor with carelessness and situated himself on his knees on it.

“Do I fit there too?” Matsukawa asked, prompting Hanamaki to move a little so they could both sit.

Oikawa observed them for a moment, until the front door opened _again,_ announcing another arrival. When Oikawa saw Nishinoya come in with a lot less adolescent brattiness in his behavior compared to the last time he had left their apartment with a stomp and a huff, he tilted his head to rest on Suga’s shoulder.

“I think I’ve forgotten, but what day is it? Is it Wednesday?” he whispered.

Suga hummed an affirmation, his hand settling on Oikawa’s shoulder and softly rubbing it in a form of comfort. Oikawa appreciated it, and smiled a little, but already felt exhausted at the prospect of everyone coming to visit them and to eat all their food.

It didn’t take long, but soon his prediction of hungry mouths filling their apartment came true, and there was a real shortage of places for people to sit. There wouldn’t be any scientific way to explain, or calculate, how they had all managed to come in within ten minutes or less.

“There’s something wrong with your rice cooker!” Hinata announced from the kitchen, calling for everyone’s attention with his unexpectedly loud voice.

“It’s fraternizing with the microwave,” Kuroo replied immediately, his focus still sharp on his game piece as he moved it across the board. Somehow it was almost always his turn, since all the other players were too distracted by the conversation around the game to pay attention.

“It didn’t escape unscathed from the party last week,” Suga corrected calmly, and everyone turned their judgmental and disapproving gazes to Nishinoya.

“I didn’t start the fire!” he exclaimed in protest, jumping up to stand on the armchair.

“Noya, get down before you hurt yourself.” Suga told him, calmly again.

“Please get down,” Asahi pleaded, looking scared at the prospect of Nishinoya falling and getting hurt, his stance frozen between sitting down and standing up.

“I think we’ve made a mistake,” Iwaizumi’s voice commented, and Oikawa turned to see him and Daichi take off their shoes, barely able to fit their foot on the floor without stepping on the already existing shoes there.

Eleven minutes, and Oikawa made a quick headcount to check if all their friends were already present.

Their apartment was already overfilled with people, and now there were two more. Oikawa was just glad that no one was claustrophobic, or so he had assumed, since their living room was squeezed full of people, squashed like sardines to fit around the coffee table, to partake or to offer commentary on the ongoing game of Monopoly. The atmosphere resembled one of the many parties that had been thrown in the apartment – all that was missing was music and more alcohol.  The wine bottles Akaashi had brought with him had already been emptied into thirsty mouths and waiting glasses, but it didn’t seem to deter anyone’s mood.

Everyone had already moved around when they came and went to get food or something to drink, and no one was seated where they had started at, as if they had been playing musical chairs. Oikawa found himself sitting next to Matsukawa, casually talking about the possibility of neither of them never working again and coming up with empty ideas of what they should do instead. When Iwaizumi and Daichi came, probably used their key to unlock the downstairs door, Matsukawa had leaned in conspiratorially.

“I’m glad you two made up,” he said with a small, proud smile.

Oikawa flashed a cocky smile back and watched with honest curiosity how Iwaizumi and Daichi dragged chairs from the dining table to the living room and tried to fit them just and just among the many cushions strewn on the floor, some of them stripped from the one surviving couch. Oikawa would’ve agreed with Matsukawa, had he’d had the chance to, but Suga had jumped up with a delighted laughter and skipped over to Daichi to hug him, and the jealousy in Oikawa had pulled all of his attention to the fond, amicable embrace.

Daichi seemed to hug Suga back just as tightly.

“Has someone slipped Suga alcohol?” he asked from the audience witnessing their warm greeting, speaking to everyone over Suga’s shoulder.

“Guilty,” Akaashi admitted quietly, raising his hand a little up into the air as he simultaneously sipped from his glass, holding it protectively against his chest.

Oikawa had missed Suga drinking the wine, but it did explain the sudden affection Suga was demonstrating by clinging onto Daichi the way Oikawa wished he would cling onto him and the serenity in everything Suga had said and done. Oikawa was steadily growing more and more miffed that Suga was giving his affection to Daichi and not him, and he tried his best to school his expression into nonchalance.

Which didn’t work and he grimaced a little when he heard Daichi chuckle in response to Akaashi’s confession and to something Suga must’ve said to him after that.

“Okay, Suga, that’s enough,” Iwaizumi said in a low voice, patting on Suga’s back. Oikawa caught the subtle glance Iwaizumi shot at him when he gently coaxed Suga away from Daichi, and he wondered if Iwaizumi tried to detach Suga from Daichi because of him and not because Iwaizumi himself was feeling uneasy about the hug. 

“Sorry,” Suga smiled at Iwaizumi when he let go of Daichi, stepping away to a respectable distance from his best friend. “I’m just happy.” He smiled softly at Daichi, and then turned to look at Oikawa, his look filled with joy.

At least the Monopoly, their friends, the wine, they had all seemed to manage to help Suga forget about his tiredness, forgo the worrying about Oikawa’s stressing, and leave behind the loss of Kumamon – even if it was for just a moment, just for that night, Oikawa was grateful for it, grateful that it was Wednesday and their friends had come uninvited and ready to give unsolicited advice.

As if they had known that their company was needed to fill their unusually empty apartment.

 

 

...

 

 

Hours later and filled with a delicious dinner that they had all participated in making, the atmosphere was as lovely as it could possibly be. The Monopoly was left unfinished and thoroughly ignored by everyone on the coffee table. Oikawa suspected no one wanted to be the one to clear it away, so it sat there as an evidence of Kuroo’s possible win that no one was ready or eager to announce.

Someone had turned the TV on again, but Oikawa was certain that no one was actually watching it, and the living room was filled with soft chatter and some spurts of laughter here and there, at least two to three different conversations going on at the same time.

After the dinner, Oikawa had relaxed in the armchair, a great place to see the whole living room and everyone in it. It really was his favorite place to sit, his favorite position as it offered unobscured view to observe everyone. And with the company that had gathered into the living room, it was no surprise to Oikawa himself that he was a little fixated on the couples sat around him.

 

Kenma was curled against Hinata’s side, his face pressed to the crook of Hinata’s neck. Oikawa was quite sure Kenma had fallen asleep there, probably lulled by the way Hinata smoothed his hand up and down his back.

 

Bokuto had Akaashi sitting between his legs as he leaned back to the couch on the floor, and he was creating friction between his hands on strands of Akaashi’s hair to make it stick up in various places. Akaashi didn’t seem to care, and Oikawa wondered if he was even aware of what Bokuto was doing, but he concluded that Bokuto was the only one allowed to mess with Akaashi’s hair.

 

Daichi and Iwaizumi had been attentive to each other through the whole evening, being true to what and how they usually were together, and frankly, Oikawa had had enough of the love-sick looks the two had been shooting at each other. Not because he was jealous, but because it was so sugary-sweet, it made him nauseous, like the excessive amount of candy Suga had eaten earlier had made him slightly unwell.

 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa weren’t much better, whispering and then giggling whenever they were sitting or standing next to each other, or just in close proximity. Oikawa was convinced they were whispering about everyone else, and it really wouldn’t surprise him at all if he was proven right about it.

 

Asahi and Nishinoya were sharing a bowl of leftover ramen and stealing glances of each other, while everyone else pretended they didn’t see the soft looks, pretended to be oblivious about their relationship – relationship that everyone knew about but weren’t supposed to, since it was still a secret. The worst kept secret in the world, but whatever made them happy, Oikawa wasn’t one to ruin it.

 

Even Kuroo and Tsukishima were causing some jealous pains on Oikawa’s shoulders. They looked far too oblivious to what was going on around them as they were immersed in their own little teasing and talking. Kuroo had thrown his legs into Tsukishima’s lap, who looked pleased about it for someone who had declared he hated it. But he still let Kuroo’s legs numb his while Kuroo tried on his glasses for a size and teased him for a poor eye sight.  

 

Even Tanaka was out on _a date_ – the one good thing that came from the disaster of a party. Oikawa had no idea who Tanaka was with and where they were, what was the theme and premise of the date. He knew Suga knew, but his boyfriend was too tight-lipped about it for his liking.

He knew that Yaku was out on a date as well, but he knew even less about that than he did about Tanaka’s date, or he did about worms. And he knew zilch about worms and didn’t want to know more, thank you very much.

 

It warmed Oikawa to think that they all found it safe and felt comfortable to show affection with their friends around them, that they felt that their group of friends – or family really, because that’s what they were – wouldn’t judge them for it, wouldn’t question it.

And he realized, he wanted everything that he saw as well. Technically he had that – he and Suga could be cute and soft and touchy with each other, attentive and silly with their teasing, but only when they were alone. With everyone else in the room, they kept a certain distance, some skinship was okay, but there was an invisible line to their actions and words that they didn’t cross so no one found out about their relationship. Mainly, no kisses – something that Oikawa dearly missed and felt a deep ache in his very soul with the withdrawals he was going through. 

The more he thought about it, the more he witnessed his friends with their subtle PDA, the more he wanted it as well. All the gentle touches and cute teasing and warm looks. The small and sweet kisses with Suga _in front_ of everyone, and not behind locked doors. He wanted to tell everyone about their relationship. And now that he and Iwaizumi were friends again, he felt the immeasurable need tugging in his chest, pounding in his head, to declare for the entire world to see and hear that he and Suga were together.

Maybe the soft hour right then would be the perfect opportunity for that.

He looked to the kitchen, where Suga was chatting with Daichi. There was a soft smile on Suga’s face and the animated way his expression changed all the time according to what he was saying or hearing endeared Oikawa even further.

After a while of shameless ogling – because let’s face it, that was what he was doing – he got up from the armchair and made his way towards the kitchen.

“You’re limping.”

Iwaizumi’s words stopped Oikawa just when he was about to pass him.

“What?” He looked questioningly at his best friend, who was steadfastly watching the TV. Oikawa had heard him just fine, he just couldn’t comprehend the reason for Iwaizumi to say it so, or right then.

“You’re limping.” Iwaizumi repeated, and then slowly turned his head to look up to him. “Have you been playing?” There was a demand to know in Iwaizumi’s voice that Oikawa felt he wanted to ignore.

“No,” he answered anyway. He hadn’t been playing, not really.

“Then why are you limping?” Iwaizumi rose from the couch so he stood in front of Oikawa, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his biceps bulging a little and straining a lot against the short sleeves of his t-shirt, because for the love of everything that is good and pure and innocent in the world, why not?

“I’m fine,” Oikawa said dismissively – since he wasn’t limping – and was about to continue towards the kitchen, where Suga and Daichi were following their conversation with a mix of expressions that baffled Oikawa. Maybe they wouldn’t have baffled Oikawa if he’d stopped to think about them for a minute, but he didn’t have that minute to spare before Iwaizumi stopped him with a strong grip on his shoulder.

“There’s nothing fine with you limping.” Iwaizumi’s eyes were hard, almost angry, and the more Oikawa stubbornly looked into them, the less he wanted to talk about the limping or the reason for his limping, that in his opinion wasn’t even there.

“You know you’re not supposed to play,” Iwaizumi added sternly as he crossed his arms again, reminding Oikawa of the many times that he’d heard the same words said in the same voice over the years since his accident.

“I haven’t been playing,” he insisted. Because he hadn’t been playing. Not really.

“He’s been helping me practice.” Kuroo chimed in, very unhelpfully, from the couch and Oikawa would’ve really liked to shut him up for good by sewing his lips shut with barbed wire.

 _Oh,_ he thought a little grimly right after that disturbing thought and image _. I’ve been spending way too much time with Suga-chan whenever the man got into his ghoulish phase._

“You idiot!” Iwaizumi stated in a low voice, but it carried far, far enough for everyone to hear. 

And at that point everyone was following their conversation, Oikawa was sure of it. He knew without looking that everyone had stopped what they were doing to follow the rising argument.

“I bet you set to him.” Iwaizumi accused, talking to him and gesturing Kuroo. “Didn’t you?”

Oikawa blinked slowly. He didn’t want to rise to Iwaizumi’s accusations and kept his expression as blank as possible, to try and prove to Iwaizumi and everyone else in the room that his words didn’t affect him, that he didn’t care what anyone thought.

“You did your fucking jump serve, came down hard and your knee couldn’t take it, so now it hurts and you can’t walk normally because you’re afraid to put too much weight on it.” Iwaizumi kept speaking, quite accurately describing how everything had happened that first time Oikawa went to the volleyball gym with Kuroo.

But Oikawa hadn’t done a single jump serve since. The strenuous workouts of running on the court since without letting his knee heal properly after, though, that was what was causing the pain. His body, and especially his busted knee, wasn’t used to the exercise after a long pause, and it was struggling to keep up. Oikawa knew this. But he loved the game too much to give in to the pain, or to slow down.

He knew he had thought similarly years ago too, during the couple of months that had preceded his accident when he’d almost desperately trained to get better and better. Maybe he was being stupid now. But he didn’t care. How could he give up something that brought him happiness as well? Something he loved?

How?

“You’re going to blow your knee again if you keep playing,” Iwaizumi stated, still in that low, foreboding voice. He was leaning forward a little, obviously trying to make himself more intimidating in front of Oikawa, who wasn’t affected by it anymore, far too accustomed to it. “Do you really want that to happen again? Do you really want to go through the months of rehabilitation? Or are you just going to give up with your knee, say fuck it when it does give up on you, and just walk with a cane for the rest of your life? You remember what the doctors said after last time? That there wasn’t a surgery in the world that could fix your knee if you blew it again.”

Oikawa took a deep breath, weighed the options Iwaizumi had presented in his head, already knew everything Iwaizumi had said of the dangers, and quite literally swirled his answer in his mouth before he answered.

“Yes.”

Everything had been quiet already as everyone had been too transfixed on his and Iwaizumi’s quarrel, but now it felt like the silence had tenfolded. The silence was its own presence among everyone else, omnipresent and heavy. It was as if everyone had finally understood how damaged Oikawa’s knee truly was and how little he cared about it.  

Even Iwaizumi didn’t have anything to say, probably too shocked by Oikawa’s outright admittance that he’d take the lifetime with a cane if he just could play volleyball a little while longer.

“I’m going to my room,” Oikawa said then to Iwaizumi. “And I expect to be left alone,” he said a little louder so everyone could hear him. He felt proud, in a way, standing tall and head held high – maybe a little too high, for he couldn’t bring himself to look at Suga. He didn’t want to know how his words and the conversation had affected his boyfriend. He didn’t want to know how Suga was looking at him.

The silence followed him down the hallway and he was already at his room door when he heard Suga’s voice carry from the kitchen.

“Hajime.” Suga’s voice was distant, but Oikawa could hear the disappointment and the waver of worry in it. “I know you’re worried, but that was too much.” Oikawa was glad that Suga’s voice was filled with disappointment rather than anger. Glad for Suga standing up for him and taking his side, even when he knew that even Suga thought it was stupid of him to keep practicing with Kuroo when he came back with even worse pain in his knee every time.

With that knowledge, being certain that Suga was in his corner, he closed his room door after him, and finally let himself quite truly limp to his bed, no longer bearing the weight and gritting his teeth against the pain.

 

 

...

 

 

“You can’t deny that he isn’t being stupid, Suga.”

Suga had been looking after Oikawa, watching his almost cautious steps when he put weight on his right leg, and turned to Iwaizumi. “I’m not denying it.” He spoke calmly, feeling the same worry he knew Iwaizumi must’ve felt. He just happened to be better at hiding it. “But you shouldn’t be so tough on him about it. You two just made up. Do you really want to fight with him again?” He asked as kindly as he could, patience filling his voice.

Iwaizumi looked towards the hallway, and let out a heavy sigh.

“You should go talk to him,” Suga suggested softly, smiling to encourage Iwaizumi to go.

And go he did, stalking towards Oikawa’s bedroom.

The many conversations that intermixed in the living room had started up again, and Asahi had moved to the coffee table to clean up the unfinished game of Monopoly and put away the box.

“That was really considerate of you,” Daichi commented from behind Suga, who looked back with a small smile.

“I don’t want them to fight again.”

“But you must be worried too.” Daichi was looking at him carefully as he stepped back to the stove.

“I am.”

“Why don’t you tell Oikawa then?” Daichi’s question was careful, spoken so cautiously it warmed Suga’s heart with the caring. He was at once immeasurably grateful and happy that Oikawa had been able to make up with Daichi and Iwaizumi.

“Would he want to hear it?” he countered, though, knowing that Oikawa had made up his mind about volleyball. The excessive practicing with Kuroo was a proof of it – no matter how exhausted and pained Oikawa was when he got home, the next day he was even more impatient to go back to the gym.

“I’m sure your opinion matters to him. He cares about you too.”

“I know he does,” Suga admitted with a soft, happy smile, looking slightly down to unconsciously hide it from Daichi’s eyes. “But I also care about him, and volleyball makes him happy. I could never take it away from him.”

 

 

 

 


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just a filler, hope you enjoy it anyway :)

 

 

 

There was a knock at Oikawa’s door, and before he could even permit or deny someone’s entry, the door was opened, the distant chatter of everyone in the living room suddenly invading and filling his silent bubble of aloneness.

“I said I wanted to be alone,” Oikawa told the intruder as he sat up to see who it was, leaning back to his hands resting against the mattress.

“Too bad, I want to talk to you,” Iwaizumi replied, closing the door after him and the happy chatter died away. 

“You’re out of luck then,” Oikawa said back, lying back down on his back, his wrists crossed over his forehead, looking up to the ceiling.

A silence fell between them, but Oikawa could feel Iwaizumi’s eyes on him. He didn’t want to fight, and he could tell from Iwaizumi’s tone that he didn’t want to either. But, but Oikawa knew why Iwaizumi had followed him, why the man was in his room watching him with what he assumed was concern.

“How’s your knee?” Iwaizumi’s tone was considerate, not at all hostile or accusing, proving Oikawa’s assumption correct.

Still, Oikawa sighed. “It’s fine. You need to get glasses. Apparently you’re seeing things. I’m not limping,” he spoke in short, clipped sentences. He didn’t want to talk about his knee. He was fine. Thank you very much.

“Even Suga is worried about it.”

Oikawa smiled slightly, talking to the ceiling, pleased about the fact and fully knowledgeable about it already. “Suga-chan worries about everything.”

He heard Iwaizumi sigh softly then, and a moment later the mattress dipped under Iwaizumi’s weight.

“You need to be more careful with your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s hurting all the time, isn’t it?”

“I said it’s fine, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa was starting to get frustrated that Iwaizumi wasn’t listening to him, and annoyed that he kept going on about his knee.

“I get that you love volleyball. It’s the great big love of your life. It gave your life structure, it gave you a purpose when you were the captain, it gave you something to reach for when you weren’t a captain yet.”

Oikawa furrowed his brow out of confusion. He could understand what Iwaizumi was saying, but at the same time he couldn’t understand where he was going with it. And he didn’t like not knowing, not with Iwaizumi. “What are you trying to say?” He raised himself to sit up halfway, leaning back to his hands.

Iwaizumi was sitting next to Oikawa’s legs, but looking straight ahead towards the door, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Essentially, all Oikawa could see from his position was Iwaizumi’s back and the back of his head.

“That I get why volleyball is so important to you right now. Your thesis is finished, you’re about to get your master’s degree and be done with school. So, you don’t have anything to do right now, nothing to strive for or achieve. You don’t have a goal. But playing volleyball right now gives you a goal, I think. Or maybe not, but it gives you a sense of achievement, like a workout. You’re doing something to better yourself at.”

Iwaizumi was speaking steadily, as if he was reading from a great big book called ‘instructions to Oikawa Tooru and how he is the way he is’.

“How can you be so sure about that?” Oikawa tried to belittle it, sounding as unbelieving as possible, even though every word Iwaizumi said struck a chord inside him.

“Because at a time volleyball was your goal, it was your very existence. I imagine it’s easy to fall back to something familiar when you’re faced with something unfamiliar, when your future is uncertain.” Iwaizumi glanced over his shoulder, looking steadily and with a hint of pity at Oikawa. “I get it.”

“Did you just come here to tell me something I already know?”

“I came to tell you to find a goal before you destroy your leg. At least take it easy with the volleyball,” Iwaizumi said, still speaking in a steady, calm voice, as he turned his head away again and straightened his back. “If you have to play, then play, but within reason. Don’t push past the pain thinking that it’s going to go away eventually. You should know that it doesn’t. From firsthand experience you know that a hurt knee doesn’t just magically stop hurting.”

Yes, Oikawa did know that. But –

“I can’t stop playing. I can’t.”

“Okay, then don’t.” Iwaizumi turned on the bed to look at Oikawa again and brought one of his legs on the bed in front of him, bent at the knee, a hand clasping his ankle. “But take a real break when you’re hurting.”

Oikawa looked down to his legs stretched on the spread of the bed, his right knee aching like a pulse, a painful beat like the beat of his heart.

“When is Kuroo’s tryout?” Iwaizumi asked after a couple of moments of silence.

“Next week,” Oikawa looked up from his knee, trying to ignore it, and saw Iwaizumi looking at it.

“Do me a favor,” Iwaizumi said then, didn’t ask, just stated as he met Oikawa’s gaze. “Take someone with you. Take some of the pressure and work off of your knee with Kuroo practicing with someone else as well.”

Oikawa pursed his lips, begrudgingly thinking about it. Who would be as good as him? No one. Who was good enough then?

“This building is filled with volleyball enthusiasts. Any one of them would be happy to help. Just take your pick.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Oikawa said slowly, still reluctant about involving more people into helping Kuroo. Although, it could be helpful. Maybe he should recruit more than just one person, and they could play teams in a friendly practice match. He could be the captain of one of the teams and...

He unwittingly started to strategize and plan, dividing his friends into teams and giving them positions on the court, already assessing their skills and capabilities.

“You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you?” Iwaizumi asked with a ghost of a knowing smirk.

“I’m far too busy to think about it,” Oikawa answered smugly, flapping his hand with a flip of his wrist. “Now go away,” he pushed weakly on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “I was busy thinking when you invaded my sanctuary.”

Iwaizumi laughed, a low, throaty sound, as he stood up. “Fine, I’ll go. But can you promise me something?” He looked imploringly at Oikawa, who looked back as if he was going to die of boredom.

“Let us know when the pain is too unbearable. I’d hate it if you blew your chances with Suga because you were too inconsiderate towards him because you were in too much pain.”

“How thoughtful of you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa chirped with a huge grin. “Now go away.” The grin dropped in a matter of a millisecond, even less.

“Promise me.” Iwaizumi practically ordered.

Oikawa let his head fall against his shoulder as he sighed. “Fine, promise.”

“I mean it, Oikawa. We’re all here for you to help you manage your knee. Let us help, don’t push us away when we’re concerned, because that just makes us more worried, and more annoying for you to deal with.”

Oikawa looked down, truly touched but a little ill-equipped at the moment to deal with it.

“Just remember that, okay?”

Oikawa nodded, still unable and unwilling to look at Iwaizumi, who a moment later quietly slipped out of the room. He only knew that Iwaizumi had left from the way he could suddenly hear the chatter, and then it was gone again.

Left alone again, as he had wished, he suddenly longed for Suga’s presence. There was something comforting in Suga that just being close to him made Oikawa feel better about himself and the choices he had made in life.

But Suga wasn’t in his room right now, and he didn’t want to call out to him and drag him away from the fun he was undoubtedly having with all of their friends, so he lay back down, his wrists crossed and hands resting over his stomach. He was absently bouncing his feet that was dangling off the edge of the bed in the air, looking up at the ceiling but not focusing on it, for he was busy thinking on how to further help Kuroo prepare for his tryout.

He hoped that all their efforts would pay off for Kuroo, truly hoped for it as he tried not to focus on the way his knee still hurt.

 

 

…

 

 

 

The next morning, Oikawa woke up alone in his bed, something that hadn’t happened for quite a while now. He could understand why, if he’d wanted to, but he was too disappointed at the lack of Suga next to him that he didn’t take the time to think on Suga’s reasons for not joining him for sleep.

It was still early, Oikawa noted as he checked the time, and he knew that Suga would definitely still be asleep. He smiled faintly as he stretched and got up to look for him.

The apartment was eerily quiet, which wasn’t a surprise at such an early hour of the morning, and there was the quietest of creeks in the hallway when Oikawa stepped on a particular spot. The apartment wasn’t that old, but it was getting there. It was ‘building character’, as Suga liked to say whenever Oikawa bemoaned about the creek that was only in that one spot and nowhere else.

He smiled thinking about it, how Suga had essentially described their apartment as if it was a human growing old, how old people’s bodies cracked and how they groaned with their old aching bones.

His smile only softened when he opened Suga’s room door and saw Suga soundly sleeping in his bed. He quietly slipped inside and closed the door, being as quiet as possible so not to wake him up.

Suga must’ve been in very deep sleep, for there was no reaction on his part when Oikawa crawled on the expanse of the narrow space on the bed and lay down next to him. It wasn’t until Oikawa was snuggly spooning Suga that he heard a small contended sigh escape from Suga and he wrapped his arm securely but gently around him.

“Suga-chan,” he said the name softly, just a whisper fitting the early hour of the morning, and kissed Suga’s neck.

“Mm?” Suga hummed in his sleep, turning his head just a little, a sign that he was waking up.

Oikawa smiled to himself, and kept leaving small kisses on Suga’s neck. “You didn’t come to my bed last night,” he stated offhandedly, to appear unaffected by the fact that Suga had chosen to sleep alone, not to show how he had been disappointed to wake up alone.

He felt Suga’s chest expand with the deep inhale, and how it went down with a slow exhale.

“You said you wanted to be left alone,” Suga said in a sleep-heavy voice as he stirred a little more in Oikawa’s arms.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you came.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Tooru.”

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s words, at how sleepy he sounded. But it was time for Suga to wake up. He really hadn’t liked waking up alone in his bed. Determined to do something about it, Oikawa moved his hand from lazily stroking his fingers on Suga’s stomach over his shirt past the waistband of Suga’s sleeping shorts.

“Tooru.” Suga’s voice wasn’t sleepy anymore, but a definite moan slipped into Oikawa’s name.

Oikawa chuckled again, pleased how little he had to do, for how responsive Suga was to anything he did, how sensitive Suga was to the most tender touch.

“How late did everyone leave last night?” he attempted at a normal everyday conversation topic to further tease Suga, while his hands worked in slow strokes on Suga’s cock.

“Don’t talk about them when you’re touching me like that,” Suga complained in a breathy voice.

Oikawa tried to hide his amused chuckles into Suga’s neck, but he couldn’t help the gasp himself when he felt Suga grind his ass against his groin.

“Where do you keep your lube?” he asked after a moment or two of shameless gasping and grinding and stroking.

“Under the bed.”

“You keep your lube under the bed?”

“There’s a shoebox in the drawer,” Suga explained through hard breaths. “If I have any lube left, it’s there.”

Oikawa slid his hand from Suga’s shorts and rolled over to his other side to pull the drawer under the bed open in search of the shoebox. “What else am I going to find in the shoebox?”

“Condoms.”

“That’s all?” Oikawa asked with a smirk as he moved this and that around in the drawer, looking for the box. “I thought there would be something else as well in a secret shoebox with lube and condoms inside it, hidden under the bed.”

“If you’re asking the whereabouts of my sex toys, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Oikawa heard the ruffle of the covers behind him as he located the shoebox and opened it, and true to Suga’s words, only found lube and condoms. “You don’t have sex toys?”

Suga’s words had just registered to him as he rolled back, and saw Suga lying on his back, with one arm lazily over his head, looking back to him with hooded eyes, the cause of which could have easily been both sleep and arousal.

“No,” Suga answered. “But if you do and you haven’t hid them in a secret magical wardrobe that leads to Narnia, I swear some of our neighbors already know about them.”

“I had a feeling our friends are snoopers.” Oikawa smirked.

Suga hummed in agreement, eyeing the empty lube bottle in Oikawa’s hand with a blank look.

“You’re out of lube by the way,” Oikawa said then, shaking the bottle a little to emphasize the emptiness of it before he dropped it onto the bed. “I’ll go get mine.” He leaned in to Suga, put his hand on his cheek and kissed him quickly before he was already rolling away and about to get off the bed, when he felt Suga grab his upper arm.

Oikawa turned back to him with a question in his eyes, eyebrows high over his forehead.

“How’s your knee?” Suga asked, his eyes steadily locked onto Oikawa’s.

“It’s fine,” Oikawa frowned as he answered. He was already half hard but slowly and dangerously going soft, and if he didn’t get to the lube in his bedside table soon, he would be completely flagging and he’d have to start the sexy business all over again, which was something he wasn’t eager about. He hated stopping and starting.

“How opposed are you to talk about it?” Suga asked and he dropped his hand from Oikawa’s arm.

“Very.”

“How opposed are you of me talking about it?”

“Extremely.”

“It’s hurting right now, isn’t it?” Suga was looking at him as if he could see right through him.

“It’s fine,” Oikawa faked a very convincing smile. He didn’t want to talk about his knee, didn’t want to worry Suga, and he was willing to say and do almost anything if he could just get on with the sex he had started. He wondered how Suga could even think about his knee at a time like this.

But Suga seemed unaffected by his charms. “We are worried,” he said seriously.

Oikawa grinned and lay down so he was half on top of Suga. “Of course you are. I’m very lovable.”

“I’m serious, Tooru.”

“I know, Suga-chan.” Oikawa sighed and pecked the tip of Suga’s nose. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m okay. Can we make out now?” He moved to hover over Suga, one leg between Suga’s in case the opportunity for more grinding presented itself, something he very much hoped for.

“No, I want to express more concern,” Suga said, biting his lip.

Oikawa was happy to note that Suga’s thoughts must’ve been at least a little on the same wavelength with his.

“What will get you to drop the topic?” Oikawa questioned with a cocked eyebrow, making sure to move his eyes slow enough for Suga to notice that he was looking at his lips.

“Nothing,” Suga answered, still seriously, still not touching Oikawa at all, driving him more and more frustrated. “How is your knee right now? If it’s hurting I imagine the position you’re in, the weight you’ve put on it, is really painful.”

“I’ll give you a blowjob if you stop asking about it.”

It might’ve been the frustration that made Oikawa suggest, but he was serious about it. He was ready for anything to just drop the topic of his knee.

Suga shut up and he seemed to consider it, looking intensely at Oikawa. At least Oikawa hoped that Suga was considering it. Anything to divert Suga’s worried thoughts about his knee somewhere else, to something more pleasurable.  

Suga took a sharp breath then. “Are you seriously offering sexual favors to me so you don’t have to talk about your knee?”

Oikawa couldn’t decipher Suga’s tone, but it didn’t sound exactly promising.

“Depends on whether you’ll say yes or no to the blowjob.” Oikawa responded with a flirt.

Suga looked away, and in the next moment he pushed Oikawa off of him. “I can’t believe you,” he said as he slipped out of the bed and stood up.

Oikawa sat up on the bed and watched Suga move to stand at the foot of the bed. His arms were crossed when he turned to look at Oikawa. “My worry is valid. I’m allowed to be worried about your health and ask about it without you trying to distract me with something else. I should be allowed to express my concern without you dismissing it.”

“So...?” Oikawa tilted his head and looked Suga up and down, calculating Suga’s posture and his upset expression, as he moved across the bed to sit at the foot of the bed. “You don’t want that blowjob then?” He cocked his eyebrow as he asked, still as flirtatiously as he could.

Suga threw his hands in the air with a shake of his head and turned around to walk away, but Oikawa was quicker and grabbed his hand.

“Suga-chan, wait,” he said seriously, holding onto Suga who was the length of their arms away from him. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said apologetically as he pulled gently on Suga’s hand, to have Suga come and stand between his legs. “I appreciate the care and concern, but you don’t need to worry about my knee. It’s fine.” Oikawa looked up to Suga’s eyes, trying to read Suga’s thoughts. _“I’m_ fine,” he stressed.

“You’re fine?” Suga asked, his eyebrows raised and furrowed in the middle, as if he didn’t believe it and was still worried. “You’re fine, so that’s why you take pain killers every day, a double dose after a practice with Kuroo? You’re fine and that’s why you occasionally limp a little when you walk, especially in the mornings when I’m sure you don’t even register that you’re doing it because during the day it’s gone from your walk. You’re fine and that’s why you wear your knee brace all the time?” Suga piled on everything he had noticed, everything Oikawa had been sure he hadn’t noticed.

“Even now, I know you’re wearing it right now. You’re not supposed to wear the brace all the time because it doesn’t exactly let your knee rest.” Suga’s voice turned softer, his look warmer and his hand caressed Oikawa’s cheek.

Oikawa was speechless. He really hadn’t thought that Suga would be able to notice what he’d tried to hide, and he looked down partly in shame, partly to think of what to say. He was touched, though, of how considerate Suga was with his caring, wondering how Suga had been able not to say anything before if he’d noticed all of that, if he really was as concerned as he said he was.

But Suga’s touch on his cheek, the way his thumb gently moved across it in soft, slow strokes, spoke miles for how much Suga cared about and loved him.

Oikawa looked up and scooted further onto the bed, pulling Suga with him, to join him on the bed. He decided to be honest about his knee then. Suga deserved that much.

“I hate that you insist on living with the pain,” Suga spoke as he sat on the bed.

Oikawa leaned his back against the wall, his legs outstretched in front of him. “It’s not that bad,” he tried to reassure Suga, who sat next to his legs, facing him.

“But you don’t deserve it, the pain. You deserve to live a long and healthy life.”

Oikawa thought about it, agreed with Suga, and smiled. But something must’ve brought this on. There must’ve been a cause that triggered him to bring it up now.

“I know it must’ve been scary what Iwa-chan said last night,” Oikawa said with sympathy, pulling his left leg closer, the knee bent up, and wrapped his hands around his shin. “But it’s really not as bad as he made it sound with the doctors and everything.”

Suga looked at him inquisitively, his hand hovering over his right knee. “But are you really willing to live with a cane as your third leg for the rest of your life? Are you really willing to give up a perfectly healthy life for volleyball?”

“For the price, to be happy as long as I can with volleyball, I guess I am.” Oikawa admitted, smiling to reassure Suga and to lessen his worry. He had made up his mind after the first time he practiced with Kuroo, when the too familiar pain had returned after three years, after he had felt the surge of happiness course in his body when he stepped onto the court and held a volleyball in his hands. “I mean, you could love a man who had a cane, right?” He grinned with his ‘joke’.

“I don’t know,” Suga mused, thinking a little too hard about it in Oikawa’s opinion.

“What is he like?” Suga asked then, biting his bottom lip in a clear attempt not to smile too widely, and Oikawa understood Suga was teasing him.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa chuckled and whined at the same time, tipping his head back. He couldn’t believe Suga would choose to tease him right now.

“What does he look like?” Suga kept teasing, and Oikawa reached to pull him closer, and ended up with his lap full of delightfully laughing Suga, sprawled across his legs.

“I guess I could accept the cane if his face was decent,” Suga kept laughing. It was infectious, and soon Oikawa was laughing with him.

It felt good to laugh, to relieve the tension and worry that had surrounded them earlier.

“You really would be okay with it?” Oikawa checked when they calmed down, pushing Suga’s hair off of his forehead with gentle fingers. He had caught as much from Suga’s teasing and joking, but he still wanted to make sure. Not that he actually thought that Suga would be so superficial that he’d leave someone just because they had a minor attachment to a walking stick.

“I don’t care whether you have a cane or not,” Suga confirmed with a warm smile as he pushed himself to sit between Oikawa’s legs. “I just care that you’re okay.” He added, looking up to Oikawa with kind, sincere eyes.

“Okay.” Oikawa pecked Suga’s lips, and Suga proceeded cradle Oikawa’s chin in his hands to give multiple little kisses on his cheek and chin and down his neck, just soft little presses of lips against skin without the intention of arousing anything, but out of a feeling of affection, to express adoration.

When Suga leaned back after about a hundred and two kisses, looking at Oikawa with shining eyes, Oikawa cupped Suga’s cheek and gently thumbed on the beauty mark under Suga’s eye.

Suga moved and shook his head out of Oikawa’s touch, a look of displeasure flashing across his face before it was quickly replaced with a familiar, warm smile when their eyes met again.

“Why don’t you like it when people pay special attention to your beauty mark?” Oikawa asked, his gaze moving from looking at Suga’s eyes to the beauty mark and back again. He could remember it from a long time ago, how Suga had told him to stop fixating on it.

“Because I hate to think they’ll only identify me with it when they think back. ‘Oh, yes, Suga, the one with the beauty mark’.” Suga imitated with a fake voice.

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s antics and leaned forward, placing his hands on Suga’s knees, their noses almost touching in Oikawa’s subconscious want and need to kiss him.

“I’d rather they just remembered me as a whole, as Suga,” Suga added then, his voice a little quiet but smile bright as ever.

Oikawa moved his hand from Suga’s knee to over his shoulder and behind his neck to bring their lips together. He hummed into the kiss, reveling in finally having it with Suga that morning.

“How do you want me to remember you?” he asked when their kiss couldn’t linger any longer, when he felt Suga bring him closer with arms around his neck and shoulders.

“I won’t give you a chance to remember me,” Suga stated in a certain voice. “You’re going to die first, I’ll make sure of it.”

Oikawa burst into laughter at Suga’s confidence. “And how are you going to make sure of it?” he questioned with an amused grin.

“Not sure yet,” Suga said slowly, probably considering all the possible ways he could ensure that Oikawa wouldn’t get the chance to miss Suga when he was gone. “But when we’re old, I’ll make sure you’re going first.”

Oikawa became wistful as he thought about it, thought about living with Suga for the rest of his life, growing old with him, as if he was Ellie and Suga was Carl. He felt a little jealous that Suga would then go on an epic adventure where he would befriend a boyscout, a large colorful bird and a talking dog. He was especially jealous because of the dog. But the life they could have together before that sounded exciting as well, but not to get too ahead of himself in his visions for their future – they had only dated for a couple of weeks, for crying out loud – he jumped back into teasing.

“You really think you and your wrinkly ass could do something to me?” he asked with a cocky smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“My ass isn’t wrinkly!” Suga protested, aghast that Oikawa would say such a thing. “And you know it isn’t,” he added pointedly in a slightly lower voice.

Oikawa hummed, thinking about it. “I don’t know,” he mused. “I might have to be reminded of it.” He tried to pull Suga closer by his hips, but Suga patted his hands away and attempted to get away with a laugh.

“How are you so keenly after my ass?” Suga managed to ask through his laughter when Oikawa crawled after him and hauled him back with his arms around Suga’s waist. “Did you wake up horny?”

“Since you weren’t in my bed?” Oikawa asked, laughing with Suga. “Yes.” He buried his face into the curve between Suga’s neck and shoulder, and bit his collarbone in retaliation when he felt Suga try and tickle him.

Their teasing didn’t last much longer after that – Suga’s laughter was just soft sighs of chuckles, while Oikawa snuzzled Suga’s neck – and they moved to lay next to each other, legs tangled and arms loosely wrapped around each other.

“I don’t really feel like having sex,” Suga whispered so quietly it didn’t break the spell of warm silence, but fit there. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Oikawa replied straight away. To be honest, he wasn’t really feeling it anymore either.

“Can we go back to sleep then?” Suga asked hopefully, a small curve on his lips, reminiscent of a smile. “It’s early and you woke me up from a really good dream.”

“Really?” Oikawa raised his eyebrow inquisitively and started to pull the covers over them. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Well,” Suga mused, slowly as if he was thinking about it. “You weren’t in it.”

“Then I don’t want to know.” Oikawa stated and threw the covers so high it hid them both completely. Except maybe Oikawa’s toes, thanks to his long legs.

Suga snickered softly, curling a little closer to Oikawa and rest his head on Oikawa’s chest.

They both fell asleep not long after, and woke up late to the sound of Kuroo having another match with the microwave. If Oikawa decided to forego the knee brace that day, it might’ve been because of Suga expressing his concern and helping him alleviate the pain.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

The next day, Yaku entered Suga and Oikawa’s apartment, yawning into his hand in the early midday. He didn’t expect for anyone to be there, so he was surprised to see Nishinoya sitting on the kitchen island, as if he was the ruler of the kitchen.

“Are you eating a popsicle for breakfast?” Yaku asked, eyeing the choice of breakfast. Surely Nishinoya had lost his mind. But then again, this was Nishinoya, and Yaku got over his astonishment quickly.

“Dude, I’ve earned this,” Nishinoya said with heavy stress in his words, as if it truly was a price he had won after completing a task of Herculean might.

“Alright,” Yaku chuckled. It was best to let Nishinoya do as he pleased – the small man was impossible to persuade to do anything against his own wishes. “Remember to eat a banana or something too to get some nutrients.”

“I will, _mom,”_ Nishinoya teased, but accepted the paper towel Yaku held out for him to wipe of the slobber of the ice cream that he was eating greedily from his chin. “What is it with everyone in this building and bananas anyway?”

“They’re healthy, a lot of potassium in them,” Yaku answered as he went to the coffee maker. “Did you make coffee already?” he asked from Nishinoya when he noticed that there already was coffee in the pot. It wasn’t unheard of, but it wasn’t common either, and he wondered how there was coffee already ready when he poured himself a cup.

“Must’ve been Oikawa,” Nishinoya spoke around the stick that he held between his teeth while he wiped his hands on the paper towel. “Which reminds me,” he paused to throw the paper towel he balled up to the trash and then took out the stick from his mouth when he made a successful three pointer. “I saw the weirdest thing when I came here.”

“Tell me,” Yaku said eagerly, always excited to hear the newest piece of gossip. He liked to pride himself with knowing more about his friends and neighbors than Kuroo, one of the other nosy busybodies in the building, did. The least he could pride himself with keeping all the things he found out to himself. He was a vault of secrets, impenetrable and impossible to get anything out of. He leaned his arms on the kitchen island next to Nishinoya, looking up expectantly.

“Suga,” Nishinoya paused to build up the anticipation, “was,” he paused again to lean closer to Yaku and cupped his hand around his mouth, “in Oikawa’s bed,” he finished with a whisper.

Yaku looked at Nishinoya with slight surprise. He had told Suga that he wouldn’t go out of his way to lie about him and Oikawa, but he still didn’t want to reveal their secret either. “So?” He inquired to find out what Nishinoya thought of it.

“He was sleeping there,” Nishinoya elaborated, his eyes big and voice a little hushed, as if he was telling him something scandalous. And if Nishinoya found something scandalous, it meant that whatever was going on was extremely scandalous.

“Like it was normal for them or something that Suga was sleeping there.” Nishinoya added, looking sincerely astonished and unable to comprehend and process.

“Okay,” Yaku said slowly, wondering how to proceed. His earlier decision still stood – he wasn’t about to tell anyone but he wasn’t about to lie either. “I don’t get why you find it weird. You know they’re close. Unless they were naked.”

“No, they were clothed,” Nishinoya mused, twirling the popsicle stick with his fingers, looking ahead and far off. “But Oikawa was just sitting there reading a big book while Suga slept next to him.”

Yaku straightened from the island and went back to his coffee cup, half empty and waiting to be filled to the brim. He was a little let down that he had nothing new on his neighbors, but it was quite satisfying to know that he knew something no one else did.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” he spoke conversationally as he filled his cup. “Suga probably just went there for company, and fell asleep because he got bored with Oikawa just reading.”

Nishinoya hummed behind him. “Maybe,” he said slowly, probably mulling the thought. “It would make sense.”

“There you go,” Yaku said with a proud grin as he turned back to look at Nishinoya. He sipped his coffee, thinking on again how he knew something _huge_ that no one else did. “By the way,” another thought popped to him. “What were you doing in Oikawa’s room?”

“Oh!” Nishinoya perked and jumped up to stand on the island, aiming to throw the stick into the trash from as high as he could. “I had good news.”

“What good news?” Yaku watched with mild interest the stick fly through air, to see if it went in the trash can.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me about you and Komi.” Nishinoya grinned at him, looking too sly for his own good.

Yaku turned away slightly, to look out the window so he didn’t have to look at Nishinoya anymore. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said calmly and sipped his coffee.

“Which is Yaku talk for ‘there’s a lot to tell’,” Nishinoya stated confidently, smiling knowingly.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Yaku insisted.

“A-ha!” Nishinoya jumped down from the island and stood tall on the floor with his hands on his waist. “There’s so much to tell.”

 

 

…

 

 

Fifteen minutes earlier, Nishinoya had burst into Suga and Oikawa’s apartment with so much excitement he was vibrating, causing the front door to close with a loud bang, probably waking up even the last of the sleepyheads in the building.

Oikawa glanced up from the book he was reading, towards the sound, and then back to the book he had propped against his knees as he turned the page. He didn’t think much of it first, until he heard a voice call for Suga.

“You need to hide,” he commented idly to the man sleeping soundly next to him. It really was a miracle that Suga hadn’t jumped up when the bang of the front door echoed loudly in their apartment.

“I don’t want to hide anymore,” Suga mumbled a reply, apparently woken up by the front door anyway.

Oikawa smiled at it, feeling the same way about hiding their relationship any longer. But last night, he and Suga had spoken about it, and agreed to wait a little longer, to wait for the next perfect opportunity to tell everyone.

Suga had eloquently suggested that they have sex with their front door unlocked so anyone walking in would hear them. Oikawa had scoffed, wanting to do something milder but not in any way less extravagant.

A short moment later, he heard the distinct voice of Nishinoya ask for Suga again, and next there were steps running past his room, and then a knock on Suga’s door, accompanied by Nishinoya asking for Suga again.

“He’s coming here next,” Oikawa told Suga, and turned a page again.

“I don’t care,” Suga said nonchalantly, and sure enough, there was a knock on Oikawa’s room door.

“Oikawa?” Nishinoya asked from behind the door, and a second later he opened the door, apparently too impatient to wait for an answer. “Sorry!” He apologized immediately in a loud cry, probably when he noticed that Oikawa wasn’t alone in his bed.

He was sitting up, though, while Suga was lying down, but apparently their positions were enough for Nishinoya, _Nishinoya,_ to feel like he was imposing, witnessing something he shouldn’t.

Oikawa looked up from his book and pushed his glassed higher on his nose, as if he was only mildly disturbed and not annoyed about it all.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Nishinoya said then, as politely as Oikawa had ever heard him speak. “But have you seen Suga? Do you know where he is?”

Oikawa tried not to smirk, but he couldn’t help how the corner of his lips raised just a little when he pointed with his index finger next to him. He noticed the flash of recognition in Nishinoya’s eyes when the man looked where he had pointed.

“Why is Suga here?” Nishinoya hissed, his eyes narrow and grin sly, as if he knew something, suspected something was going on.  

“You’ll have to ask him,” Oikawa answered, looking at Suga who still _looked_ like he was sleeping, and then returned back to his reading. However, he didn’t miss the way Nishinoya’s suspicious look morphed into an ecstatic grin as the man ran and jumped onto the bed. The quick change concerned Oikawa, just a little, for he knew that Noya wasn’t easy to fool or quick to give in when he suspected that something was going on.

 “Suga! Suga!” Nishinoya repeated like a parrot as he kneeled next to Suga’s legs and started to shake them. “I’ve found Kumamon!” He kept excitedly bouncing on his own knees, violently shaking Suga awake.

Oikawa raised his eyebrows, but not his eyes from the book. Apparently this piece of news was more urgent than finding out why Suga was in Oikawa’s bed. He wondered what was Nishinoya’s motivation here, why was he so hyper about Kumamon? It’s not that Oikawa wasn’t pleased that their beloved Kumamon had been found, but if he’d found two of his friends in the same bed, he would’ve thought that much more important and intriguing.

“Great,” Suga replied to Nishinoya’s reveal with a lot less enthusiasm, sounding almost sarcastic, which Oikawa snorted at. “Where?”

Nishinoya wasn’t deterred by Suga’s seeming indifference, but sprang up to stand on the bed and then proceeded to jump on it, as if it was a small trampoline. “Komi has it.”

“Komi took it?” Suga asked as he suddenly sat up. “Why?” He sounded suspicious.

Nishinoya stopped bouncing and shrugged. “He was drunk, I don’t know.” He didn’t sound like he cared why Komi had taken Kumamon. “Anyway, he said you can have it back.”

“As soon as possible, please,” Suga said and lay back down on his side, pulling the covers back over himself as if he was getting ready to go back to sleep.

Oikawa tried not to laugh at Suga’s determined clinging onto sleeping, and could’ve sworn he heard Suga start to fake snoring.

“As soon as you pay him the ransom.” Nishinoya replied, standing over Suga, hands on his waist.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Oikawa interjected. This was just getting ridiculous now.

“I’m just repeating what he said,” Nishinoya said with another shrug. He _really_ didn’t care at all of this Komi’s motivations. “But now that I’ve found Kumamon, can I finally have that popsicle?”

 _Ah,_ Oikawa thought with a knowing smirk. _This was why Nishinoya was so excited and eager to deliver the news. He can finally have his fill of popsicles._  

“Sure,” Suga answered from under the covers that half-hid his face, and Nishinoya didn’t wait any longer until he sprang off the bed and out of the room, probably not even hearing Suga’s next words. “Go ahead.”

“Close the door after you,” Oikawa called after Nishinoya, who had to double back to do just that.

When the door closed and the pitter-patter of Nishinoya’s running steps grew quieter and eventually non-existent, Oikawa put his book to the side and curled around Suga’s back, lifting his leg over Suga’s hip.

“Babe,” he started and kissed Suga’s neck.

“Why are you calling me babe now?” Suga interrupted with a mumble from under the covers, a smile still detectable in his voice.

Oikawa smiled against Suga’s neck. Of course Suga would be happy that Kumamon had been found. Why he didn’t let Nishinoya see it remained a mystery to Oikawa, though, but he figured he could find out later. Or maybe it wasn’t anything more profound or meaningful than Suga just being a little sleepy, still a bit mad at Noya, and therefore a just a tad bit petty.

“We’re getting Kumamon back.” Oikawa grinned and left little kisses along Suga’s neck, pulling the covers down a little so his lips could continue their quest to Suga’s shoulder.

Suga hummed and shifted under the covers, as if instinctively moving closer to Oikawa, who tightened his arm around Suga’s waist and hooked his chin gently over Suga’s shoulder.

“I’m going to kill Komi when he comes here with Kumamon for the ransom money. If he really somehow managed to kidnap it.”

Or maybe Suga didn’t have a bigger reaction to the wonderful news of Kumamon because he was already plotting the murder of the kidnapper.

Oikawa chuckled at the sleepy, and therefore practically non-threatening, death threat.

“You scare me,” he said nonchalantly then, unwrapping himself from Suga and sitting up. “Remember to offer him tea before you kill him,” he reminded Suga as he picked up his book and looked for the page he had left off on. “We have an image of hospitality to keep up.”

Oikawa heard Suga laugh at it, and then the rustle of the sheets when Suga turned on his back. He could feel Suga’s eyes on him, but decided to keep reading.

“Why do you keep studying?” Suga asked in a soft voice. “You already know everything by heart.”

Oikawa glanced at Suga and met his eyes for a second between two paragraphs, and then returned to the text. “I don’t.”

“A-ha,” Suga said as if he didn’t believe him, and pulled the book from him.

Oikawa didn’t protest – he could tell Suga was about to prove his statement by asking him about the material, and he waited patiently while Suga briefed himself about it.

Suga cleared his throat as an indication that he was about to speak, and Oikawa answered as thoroughly as he could, speaking confidently and without waver of uncertainty.

“You know this from word to word,” Suga chuckled lightly and closed the book before he gave it back. He sounded both amused and proud, looking up to Oikawa with warm eyes.

“It’s different when I have to defend my thesis,” Oikawa explained as he took the offered book back and continued onto the next chapter.

“Okay.”

Oikawa could hear the smile in Suga’s voice without looking. He did look up though when he felt Suga get up.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a hint of an alarm in his voice. He liked Suga’s company when he was studying.

“Bathroom,” Suga answered, already off the bed and walking towards the room door, stretching his hands up high towards the ceiling.

Oikawa nodded understandingly and returned to his book for the nth time. His morning had been full of interruptions, not that he terribly minded, not when most of them were from Suga. “Come back,” he thought to call after him, just in case Suga had other intentions.

And a few moments later Suga was back. Oikawa heard the door close, after Suga had so nicely left it open earlier and Oikawa had been somewhat entertained by the background noise of Nishinoya and Yaku’s conversation. He hadn’t heard what they said, he hadn’t cared to, just the faint sound of their voices.

“Is this the copy of your thesis?”

Oikawa finished the sentence he was in middle of, it was a long one, and looked up. Suga was standing by his desk, holding up a neatly printed and compiled stack of papers in plastic covers.

“It’s the old version, I changed the conclusion a bit in the other one.” Oikawa answered distractedly, his mind already back on his book.

“This’ll work then,” Suga spoke as he came back to the bed and sat on Oikawa’s side of the bed, on the edge and lightly leaned on Oikawa’s bent knees.

Oikawa looked at him curiously when he felt Suga’s warmth and weight against him. “Why are you reading it?” He was bemused that Suga would reread it.

Suga held up his finger in a gesture for Oikawa to wait, and so he did. He put down his book and curiously observed Suga read a few pages, briefly wondering how Suga could read so fast and came to the conclusion that he was speed reading and skipping every other line, barely skimming the text.

“Okay,” Suga looked up to Oikawa and closed the thesis with a thumb between two pages, and posed Oikawa a question like he would get if he was sat in front of review board. So, Oikawa answered as he would to defend his thesis.

“See? You’ve got this.” Suga smiled proudly when Oikawa was finished with his long-winded and thorough answer.

“I still like to be prepared.”

“Fine.” Suga nodded decisively. “We’ll continue in a bit. I’ll make us breakfast first.” He got up from the bed, taking the warmth from Oikawa’s legs with him and threw the raw version of the thesis on the bed on his way out of the room.

Oikawa had no idea how long Suga was gone, and used the time effectively by finishing the book he had been memorizing from.

When Suga did come back, it was with a heavenly smell calling for Oikawa’s stomach that answered with a growl and the delicious and enticing smell of coffee. Oikawa had already drank a cup of coffee earlier that morning, the evidence of it in the cup he had left on the bedside table, but he still greedily accepted the cup Suga offered to him when he positioned the tray filled with their breakfast on the bed.

Oikawa sipped the coffee, sweetened just like he liked it, and sighed with satisfaction and leaned his head back on the headboard, holding the cup securely in his hands. Once Suga seemed certain that the tray wouldn’t tip unexpectedly, he sat facing Oikawa between his legs – one of Suga’s legs dangling over one of Oikawa’s and off the edge of the bed, the other bent at the knee in front of him, the knee resting over Oikawa’s knee, the leg lazily bent so it was behind Suga’s back.

He looked expectantly at Suga, an eyebrow slightly raised in question for what Suga had in mind. Suga answered by picking up the thesis from the bed again, and cleared his throat. Oikawa smirked and sipped his coffee as Suga asked for him to once again defend a point in his thesis.

And that was how they kept going back and forth with it, Suga asking and inquiring, and Oikawa answering and explaining. They were only slightly slowed down by the bites of breakfast they took, and Suga had gotten up once to bring more to drink when their cups emptied – coffee for Oikawa and tea for himself.

Oikawa was grateful for Suga to offer his help to prepare without having to ask, gracefully accepting the chance to prepare like this. Of course the small, soft kisses Suga gave Oikawa every time he was happy with an answer made the process that much better and enjoyable.

“Your kisses taste like blueberries,” Suga commented out of nowhere, their lips still close enough for Oikawa to feel Suga’s breathing.

“So do yours,” Oikawa pointed out with a smile, his thumb tenderly rubbing on Suga’s skin over his hip under his shirt.

“You’re ready,” Suga stated then, leaning back, and closed the thesis and threw it next to them on the bed.

“If you say so,” Oikawa chuckled, his fingertips gliding from Suga’s hip down to his knees. “What now?”

“Don’t know,” Suga answered with a half of a shrug, and reached for another blueberry from the tray. “Any ideas?” He looked at Oikawa from under his brows.

“We could have sex,” Oikawa suggested with a smirk, only half-serious.

Suga predictably shook his head as he ate another blueberry. “Yaku and Nishinoya were still in the living room fifteen minutes ago. I bet they’re still there.”

Oikawa hummed, his fingers tapping on Suga’s knees as he thought, tilting his head back so his gaze was on the ceiling, looking for ideas there. “Want to just make out then?” He kept his chin up, but brought his gaze down to look at Suga.

Suga smiled faintly in response, and brought Oikawa’s chin down with his hands gently holding under his jaw. “You need a shave,” he said with a fond smile then, thumbing at the light barely-there stubble on Oikawa’s chin.

“So do you,” Oikawa replied, lightly scratching on Suga’s chin. “How is it darker than your hair?” He tilted his head speculatively, turning Suga’s head from side to side with his hand under Suga’s jaw as he tried to see the stubble in different light.

“Weird genes,” Suga answered as he wrapped his hand around Oikawa’s wrist to pull the hand away.

“You know,” Oikawa started slowly as he dropped his hand back onto Suga’s knee. “I thought you dyed your hair the first time we met.”

“Everyone does,” Suga stated lightheartedly, unbothered by the fact. “But I know that you dye yours,” he said then with a slight knowing smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes that Oikawa had learnt long ago to distrust.

“No I don’t,” he denied immediately, maybe too quickly, as Suga’s smile broadened.

“Yes, you do,” Suga laughed. “But it looks good,” he added after he took a breath, his laughter gone but smile amused. He reached to run his fingers through Oikawa’s hair and locked them behind Oikawa’s head.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. No one knew he dyed his hair, apart from the few select individuals who were sworn to secrecy. “How could you know?”

“Yahaba told me.”

Oikawa continued his scrutiny of Suga through his narrowed eyes. “How do you know Yahaba?”

“I met him at Hanamaki’s birthday party,” Suga answered with ease, his fingers playing with Oikawa’s hair behind his head.

Oikawa thought back to the party, his eyes wandering around the room as he tried to see the party in his mind. And he remembered – he remembered how he had been talking to Yahaba at some point, how Suga had come and sprawled across the table with pleas for him to run his fingers through his hair, how he had pulled Suga to sit in his lap when Yamaguchi had approached them. He remembered how jealous he had been at Yamaguchi then.

“He pulled me to the side and whispered that he had a secret, like he was in a spy movie, and then told me he dyes your hair.” Suga elaborated on how Yahaba had betrayed Oikawa’s trust, his fingers still nonchalantly twirling Oikawa’s hair, his eyes steady on Oikawa’s.

“That little shit,” Oikawa breathed out, offended by the betrayal.

“He’s a hairdresser, right?” Suga checked, his voice colored by his laughter.

“Yeah,” Oikawa exhaled as he gave up on defending the shades of his hair.

“If you let him dye your hair, why don’t you let him cut it as well?” Suga pulled his fingers through Oikawa’s hair, looking at the way it slid between his fingers, as if he was admiring it.

Oikawa had his answer ready. It was a valid question, and something he realized he had expected Suga to ask. “I don’t want to cut it when I’m not sure what to do with it.”

Suga hummed then, his eyes flitting around Oikawa’s face and hair. “I like it like this,” he said quietly then, so softly and in a way his words felt like a caress on Oikawa’s skin.

Pleased, he leaned forward to kiss Suga, bringing his hands back on his hips, his fingers immediately finding their way under Suga’s shirt to feel the warmth and smoothness of his skin around the bone.

“You still taste like blueberries,” he commented, lips imperceptibly brushing on Suga’s, their breath intermixing. “I want to tell everyone.”

Suga leaned back a little, and looked inquisitively Oikawa to his eyes. “That I taste like blueberries?” His smile was delightful and the tilt of his head curious. “Well, that’s one way to admit to them that we’re together.”

Oikawa laughed at Suga’s deadpan delivery, his hold on Suga’s waist tightening a little at the force of his laughter.

“Do you want to be the one to tell them?” Suga’s question cut through Oikawa’s joy.

He was pleased that Suga had taken him seriously about telling everyone. “We’re telling them together, of course.” It was given that they should do it together.

“Hmm, okay,” Suga agreed.

Oikawa couldn’t help scoffing, as if there had been anything for Suga to think about.

“Do you want to do it today?” Suga’s voice was gentle as he suggested it, his fingers curling around Oikawa’s wrists just as gentle, and the following kiss one of the softest Oikawa had ever received from him.

“No, not today,” Oikawa answered against Suga’s lips, and wrapped his arms around Suga more securely so he could push him on his back on the bed. “Maybe tomorrow,” he continued as he hovered over Suga on his hands and knees, as Suga moved his legs to wrap around him.

“Or maybe next week,” Suga suggested.

Oikawa wasn’t really listening, though, but was transfixed on the way Suga licked his bottom lip and how Suga’s hands laced behind his neck to pull him closer. And who was Oikawa to deny Suga’s wishes? He leant closer to kiss Suga, and licked into his mouth, threading his fingers into Suga’s hair to pull his head back a little and moved to kiss down Suga’s neck, nipping hard enough for Suga to feel it and gasp in response but not so hard that he’d leave a mark.

_Knock, knock, knock_

Oikawa paused and lifted his head up to glare at the door. “We need to move to a new apartment,” he said in a dark tone.

Suga laughed, more breath than sound, and pushed Oikawa off of him with hands on his chest. Oikawa sat up on his knees, Suga’s legs still wrapped around his waist, just in time for the door to open.

“I’m intrigued,” Yaku said conversationally with a small smile. Oikawa cocked his eyebrow in question and Suga tilted his head back to see him at standing at the door.

“If someone who didn’t know about you two had opened the door, how would you have explained _this.”_ Yaku motioned at them with a roundabout gesture of his hand.

Oikawa was too busy remembering that _Oh right, Yaku knew about them already,_ to answer but Suga was quicker anyway.

“Oikawa was trying to push me off the bed because I tried to claim it as my own,” Suga replied straightaway, apparently he wasn’t even a little fazed by the situation or the question, maybe had even expected someone to come and discover them in their slightly incriminating position.

“Why would you want Oikawa’s bed?” Yaku asked.

“It’s nicer than mine.”

“No it isn’t,” Oikawa interjected. “Yours is much more comfortable.”

Suga brought his head back to look at him. “Then why are we always in yours?”

“Because it’s mine.”

“Anyway,” Yaku cut in in a louder voice. “I’m about to take off.”

“Okay.” Oikawa had no objection to it. “Bye bye.”

Yaku rolled his eyes and Suga chuckled.

“Is Noya still here?” Suga asked then, and Oikawa silently thanked him to think to ask.

“No, he just left.” Yaku looked over his shoulder to the hallway and then turned back to them. “With his fifth popsicle.”

Oikawa snorted and unhooked Suga’s ankles from behind his back to properly sit since it didn’t look like Yaku were in any hurry to leave.

“He ate five popsicles?” Suga sounded concerned, his eyebrows adorably furrowed.

“No, I watched him eat four, he took the fifth on his way out.” Yaku said as a fellow concerned parent. “He said he deserved them because he found Kumamon.”

“He said Komi took it,” Oikawa said.

“Noya lied,” Suga said, sitting up as well.

“What?” Oikawa asked the same time that Yaku said, “There’s no way Komi took it.”

“Why?” Oikawa changed his question, looking from Suga to Yaku and then back to Suga.

“He’s smaller than Kumamon,” Suga answered. “Noya was probably going through popsicle withdrawals and lied to finally have some. Addicted people will do and say anything to get their fix.”

“Then,” Oikawa was dumbfounded and very uncharacteristically floundered for words. “Then, who took it?”

“I bet it was Kuroo,” Yaku said.

“How could it be Kuroo? You were chasing him for half the night.” Suga pointed out.

“By the way, why were you chasing Kuroo with the umbrella?” Oikawa remembered coming home to the disaster, seeing Yaku wield the umbrella like an old lady would her cane chasing young rascals.

“He’s Kuroo,” Yaku answered simply, as if it was an explanation enough. And maybe it was, in a way, Oikawa could understand exactly what Yaku meant. “I’m going now, see you. Be nice, use protection.” Yaku waved his hand as a goodbye.

“Lock the door on your way out!” Oikawa shouted after him, and rested his head on Suga’s shoulder. “Can we make a deal that you never ever again leave a party when it’s going on?”

“I was gone for two minutes, tops. I don’t understand how the party got out of hand in such a short amount of time,” Suga laughed with exasperation, his shoulder shaking Oikawa as well.

“Are you saying it’ll remain a mystery until the end of time?” Oikawa tilted his head to look at Suga. He faintly heard the sound of the front door closing, but it was impossible to say if Yaku had locked it.

“It’s not like we can go back in time to find out, now is it?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many scenarios of Oikawa and Suga waking up and spending their mornings in various ways, doing various things, talking about nothing of importance and about something extremely meaningful. I'll save the rest of them for the later chapters. 
> 
> The next chapter is one of my absolute favorites. Please look forward to it :)


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I'd like to thank everyone for sticking around with my sporadic at best schedule of updating during the summer, and thank you so so so so (times one hundred million) much for whoever took the time to leave a comment or pressed that cute little button that says 'kudos'! You've made the unusually hot days of summer a little bit more bearable for me, like a cool breeze moving the few clouds on the blue and otherwise clear sky :) You've made me really happy, so thank you! 
> 
> In this chapter, some of the ' ... ' indicate a time jump - we start in the present, the first ' ... ' is a jump back in time and the next ' ... ' is a time jump back to the present. Imagine an episode where the characters reminisce and look back to something and periodically it goes back to them in the present.   
> Not every ' ... ' is a time jump, but I hope it still makes sense to you. 
> 
> I apologize if it's confusing, but enjoy the ride in DeLorean, I guess :)

 

 

Another day in the residence of Sugawara and Oikawa, and it was just like all the rest of the days, one in many marking and counting down towards Oikawa’s graduation.

 

 

Suga watched a shirt fly through the air in one colorful arc and land on the bed.

“Why are you stressing about what to wear?” He picked up the shirt and calmly folded it and set down next to him, patting it lightly when he was done. “You look good in anything.”

“I know.” Oikawa replied from his closet, his voice a little echo-y and muffled at the same time, and threw another shirt to join the many before it on the bed. “And I’m not stressing. I’m carefully thinking and planning.”

“You’ve met my mother before and she loves you. You don’t need to try and impress her anymore.” Suga looked up from his folding to Oikawa, who had pulled a light knitted sweater on and was checking how it looked on the mirror.

There was still almost two weeks before Suga’s mother would arrive, but Oikawa had realized it in a very big way that morning, a big way in a sense as if it had been the most pivotal moment of his life.

 

_“Your mom is coming,” Oikawa said as he sat up, as if he’d been electrocuted._

_“I’m aware,” Suga said patiently, hoping that Oikawa’s wording was an accident and not a thought through pun. “Thank you for reminding me when I have cum drying on me.”_

_“But she’s coming.” Oikawa turned to look at him with wide eyes._

_Suga burst into laughter at Oikawa’s expression, and Oikawa slapped him lightly on his thigh, disapproving that Suga would laugh at him._

_“Don’t laugh, this is serious,” Oikawa said with a grave tone, his eyes veiled with panic._

_But Suga couldn’t stop his bubbly laughter, not until Oikawa kissed him, kissed him with heated and passionate kisses, sweet and sensual kisses, soft and languorous kisses._

_It had been yet another morning that Suga held dear in his heart._

 

“Yes, I’ve met her,” Oikawa replied and after a pout and a tilt of a head pulled the sweater off. “But not as your boyfriend.” He threw the sweater, that in Suga’s opinion looked perfect, onto the same spot on his bed he had thrown every other piece of clothing he had already discarded.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Suga said, paused to press the sweater against his nose to take a whiff of Oikawa’s laundry detergent (yes, they used different laundry detergents – Suga’s was subdued lemony and Oikawa’s almost neutral in a way that it only smelled _clean_ ) as Oikawa picked a white button down with faint small floral prints all over it. “She doesn’t care how people are dressed.”

“But I do,” Oikawa replied, more of a mumble really as he was distracted by his own reflection on the mirror. With another disappointed mumble that wasn’t even words anymore he shrugged the shirt off before he had even begun buttoning it up and threw it at Suga, who caught it with a laugh.

“Stop stressing,” Suga chuckled, holding the shirt in his hands in his lap. “Just pick any shirt, they’re all good.” He lifted the shirt up in front of him to take a better look – the floral print was too small to be able to say from a distance that they were flowers.

“No,” Oikawa dragged the word. “They are not.”

And maybe just to prove his point, he picked another shirt from his closet, seemingly at random, and threw it at laughing Suga.

“I think I need to go shopping for new clothes.” Oikawa stated then, his hand on his hips as he studied the contents of his closet.

Suga was folding one of the shirts Oikawa had just thrown at him as he said, “Would the new clothes even fit your closet anymore?”

“With the rate that you keep stealing my clothes, they would.”

Suga smiled to himself, looking down at the shirt he was folding. Oikawa wasn’t wrong about the stealing, but he didn’t want to call it that. He was just borrowing, on long-term loan and without permission, but he figured he wasn’t actually stealing them. Stealing indicated that he’d never give them back, but he had a plan to return every shirt and hoodie and sweater he had borrowed when he didn’t need them anymore. Whenever that may be.

He added the last folded shirt onto the pile next to him, stood up and went to the closet, keeping his eyes forward on his target so he wouldn’t look at shirtless Oikawa.

A mission impossible of course, and he figured he would’ve needed a rope to dangle from about an inch above the floor to avoid looking at Oikawa.

It had already been an hour, at least, since Oikawa had pulled him into his room to help him to choose what to wear. Suga had laughed, but agreed to help, knowing it would entail some sort of nudity on Oikawa’s part and some shameless ogling on his, so yes, he was more than happy to oblige Oikawa in his quest for a perfect ensemble to wear.

He had laughed at the non-stop commentary Oikawa had provided about every shirt he tried on and had nixed because for some unfathomable reason it wasn’t good enough. He had liked Oikawa’s choices, didn’t see anything wrong in any of the shirts, and had come to the conclusion that Oikawa had an impeccable taste when it came to fashion and style. He had briefly wondered how he hadn’t really realized it before, but then Oikawa had taken off his shirt and the thoughts had stopped there.

With the shirts he had ‘borrowed’ from Oikawa, he had focused on their comfiness, not how they looked. Even the two pairs of old joggers that had somehow made their way (worn by him and then thrown into his closet after a wash) had been too comfortable to be legal and there just was no way he could part with them. And Oikawa rarely asked to have any of the items he’d taken back.

“Why don’t you wear the light blue shirt you wore when we went to Ikea?” Suga suggested, searching for it in the closet, moving hangers back and forth. “I love that you still have these ties,” he pointed to the alien and ufo patterned ties hanging in the closet.

“Can’t throw them away since they’re a gift,” Oikawa replied, leaning his shirtless shoulder onto the doorframe, his arms folded in front of him, looking too sexy for Suga to handle and caused him to forget to make a quip about the ties being ‘a gift’. “And I can’t wear the shirt, it’s ruined.”

Suga forced his eyes away from Oikawa’s toned chest and washboard abs, back to rifling through the closet for the shirt. “Ruined how?”

“There’s red wine stain on.”

“From?” Suga looked speculatively at the shirt when he found it, holding it in front of him as he tried to find the stain.

“Remember when the new couch was delivered, and Bokuto wanted to test it by jumping on it, and he jostled Akaashi so he spilled wine from his glass, right onto my sleeve.”

“Ah, there it is.” Suga found the stain when Oikawa mentioned the sleeve. He had to squint his eyes a little to see it, but there it was, just a tiny little spec of red on the sleeve, the stain the size of a tenth of a pea. You’d have to look for it to find it, and even then you’d need a magnifying glass to truly see it.

“It was my favorite shirt and now it’s ruined. You can thank your good friends for that.”

“Funny how they’re _my_ friends again,” Suga joked, giving another precursory look at the shirt. “At least they know now.” He smiled softly at Oikawa.

“Yeah,” Oikawa stated sardonically. “At the cost of my shirt.”

 

 

...

 

 

They had borrowed Iwaizumi’s car, under the threat that if anything were to happen to the piece of machinery he held dear, to ridiculous proportions in Oikawa’s opinion, they would have to fix it with their bare hands. Needless to say, but Oikawa had driven so slowly and carefully, they had gotten more honks and middle fingers than if they were speeding, all thanks to his refusal to have blackened and greased fingers. It had been tremendously amusing for Suga, who had laughed every time they got another honk and it caused Oikawa to exclaim with a very colorful and inventive insult. No one honks at Oikawa Tooru!

“Good job,” Suga leaned over the center console once Oikawa had parked the car to the Ikea parking lot. “You didn’t kill us and the car is in one piece.” He smiled softly, his fingers playing with the fabric of Oikawa’s blazer he’d grabbed in order to bring him closer.

“I know how to drive Suga-chan,” Oikawa whined at the apparent lack of trust Suga seemed to have for his abilities to control and steer a ton of metal going a hundred kilometers in an hour on a motorway.

“Still,” Suga released Oikawa’s blazer and leaned back to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Well done.”

Oikawa hurried to unbuckle his seatbelt as well and climbed out of the car, the sunlight instantly soaking and warming him up.

“You’re driving back,” he said as he locked the doors.

“I was planning on it anyway,” Suga replied as he made his way around the car to Oikawa, to place his hand behind Oikawa’s neck to give him a soft kiss. “Now, I have a favor ask.”

Oikawa cocked his eyebrow, slipping the car keys in Suga’s jacket pocket, his other hand on Suga’s shoulder trailing down his arm to his hand.

“Don’t hold anything I might do inside against me.”

Oikawa stood still for a moment, wondering what did Suga mean, and decided it best to ask. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he called after Suga as he started to follow him across the parking lot, catching up quickly with his longer legs.

Suga didn’t reply, which unnerved Oikawa a little. But then again, how bad could it possibly be to go to Ikea with Suga, the sweet, kind, well-mannered Suga?

 _Extremely_ embarrassing, was the answer as Oikawa found out almost immediately after they stepped through the front doors, following the slow trickle of other Ikea enthusiast on their way to buy the next cheap Scandinavian piece of furniture that they would have no idea how to put together.

Suga picked up a plushie in one of the large bins and carried it with him for a moment, barely looking at it, just holding in his hand.

Oikawa eyed it, and then Suga, warily. “You want the owl?” he checked with an amused grin. Suga wasn’t the type, to his knowledge so far, to own any plushies, but it was cute so it could make sense that Suga would want it.

“No,” Suga however answered simply and steered to the first kitchen display they walked past. Oikawa followed him with a slight frown, wondering what was going on in Suga’s mind, and watched him open the oven door, place the stuffed toy inside, and close the oven door and walk away as if he hadn’t done anything, as if it was completely normal for someone to do something like that.

Oikawa stayed where he was, looking after Suga and down at the oven with absolute bafflement. “Why’d you do that?”

“For dinner,” was Suga’s answer, as if it explained anything at all, and Oikawa was more confused than before.

Although, this had to have something to do with what Suga had said at the parking lot, about asking a favor of not holding anything he might do against him.

When Suga picked up another stuffed toy, a cute giraffe, and placed it on a cutting board with a knife next to it, Oikawa started to see a pattern.

“Suga-chan,” Oikawa said slowly, observing with reservation how Suga brought a blender to the middle of a counter in the next display and dropped a frog in it, and once again carried on forward as if he wasn’t doing anything but innocently looking around, looking for ideas and inspiration for an indoor design makeover.

“Please stop,” he asked with a sneakily growing grin when Suga placed a stuffed toy pig belly up in middle of a dinner table, as if it was dinner to be served.

“What?” Suga blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”

Oikawa sputtered softly, unable to keep the following chuckles inside him. “And that’s not an elephant in a pot,” he pointed to the newest oddity in yet another kitchen display.

Suga looked to where he was pointing, smirked with mischief, and turned to him. “Want to check out the couches?” He continued on then without waiting for a reply, and Oikawa knew, he just knew, that it would get even weirder, Suga would get even weirder.

Not even five minutes later, Oikawa was pleased to have been right, and a little horrified that he _had been right_ when he thought that Suga would only get weirder.  He couldn’t but sigh as he watched Suga throw a quilt over his shoulders, as if it was a cape, glance around to make sure no one was looking, and slip inside a wardrobe in one of the bedroom displays.

Oikawa was intrigued, though, interested to see where this was going, and he sat on the edge of a bed and leaned back on the heels of his hands in the display across from where Suga was hiding.

He didn’t wait long before a young couple came, talking excitedly about the bedframe, and Suga stumbled out of the wardrobe, panting  like he had just ran a marathon or from a horde of zombies, thoroughly scaring the young couple.

“Oh!” he acted surprised when he saw the couple and hurriedly closed the wardrobe door. “Don’t go in there,” he warned the couple with a grave tone as he pointed at the wardrobe.

As shocked as he young couple looked from the sudden scare, Oikawa was as thoroughly amused watching Suga give the performance of his life. Maybe this weirdness Suga seemed to absorb himself in wasn’t that bad, he thought as he watched Suga make a grand swish of the quilt – or the cape – before he walked away from the display.

Oikawa tried to stifle his laughter behind his hand as he got up from the bed and followed Suga.

“Do you always do this?” he asked when he caught up with him again.

“It’s fun,” Suga said with a shrug as he neatly folded the quilt away, putting it back where he had picked it up from. When he looked up, his eyes widened and gleamed with excitement, and before Oikawa could fully register it, he was off speed-walking towards whatever it was that he had seen.

Oikawa followed at a more leisurely pace, his eyes steady on Suga so he didn’t lose him among all the people, so he wasn’t accidentally robbed from another amusing whatever it was that Suga was doing.

When he found Suga again, he was holding a humongous leaf high above him with both hands, the kind that gave the image of a canopy that could be placed above a bed.

“You want that?” Oikawa asked with a quizzically raised eyebrow, eyeing the leaf with amusement.

“Nope,” Suga grinned at him, but still held the leaf by its stem. “Let’s go find the couches.”

Oikawa warily eyed Suga and the leaf, but nodded, wondering what Suga would come up with this one.

Suga fell into step behind him, and a moment later, Oikawa noticed a shadow hang over him, blocking the artificial bright lights from his eyes. With a quick, a little startled, look upwards, he noticed the leaf hanging over his head. He glanced over his shoulder at Suga, to confirm that he was indeed holding the leaf over him with a happy smile, something mischievous in his carefree expression as he followed Oikawa apparently without a care in the world. It really looked like he was a servant following the handsome prince that Oikawa undoubtedly was, as if shielding him from the scorching sun.

Oikawa turned his gaze back to the front with an incredulous chuckle and a shake of a head, wondering where Suga found the confidence to be this unbothered by everyone’s curious stares. He was convinced that Suga had shed the rational part of his mind at the parking lot, or maybe the front doors were equipped with some sort of radiation that erased the inhibitions of their quirkiest customers.

“Finally, a couch,” Oikawa announced with an actual breath of relief when they got to the living room displays. As much as he was enjoying Suga’s antics, he was starting to get a little embarrassed and  he would’ve hidden his face if he wasn’t so delightedly amused.

“It’s mustard,” Suga said with distaste as he put the leaf down, tucked to the corner of the room. A store employer would no doubt find it at some point, wonder how it got there, and put back to it’s right place.

“So?”

Suga crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We’re not buying a mustard colored couch.”

“Do you have a color in mind? I thought you said you didn’t?” Oikawa turned back to the couch, the first couch they’d seen.

“I don’t,” Suga admitted, voice growing softer. “I’ll just know when I see a couch if I like it or not.”

“Okay.” Oikawa accepted Suga’s reasoning. “You know,” he drawled as he sat on the couch to test the comfortability – even though the color was atrocious, maybe the store carried the same couch in different colors. “We could get rid of the other couch as well and get one big sectional.”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to walk that figure eight in the living room and kitchen, around the couch and the kitchen island, that you sometimes like to do when you’re memorizing.” Suga made the figure eight in the air with his finger.

“So? I won’t be memorizing for long.” Oikawa got up from the couch – it wasn’t comfortable, too small and the seat too low for his long legs.

“Two couches,” Suga said determinedly.

Oikawa didn’t feel like arguing with Suga, so he agreed to two couches.

“But we could get one that we can attach a footstool to, like that.” Suga pointed to the attachment in another couch. “That way you can straighten your abnormally long legs.”

“There’s nothing abnormal about my legs,” Oikawa protested indignantly. “They’re perfect, thank you very much.” He raised his chin a little and faked a sniff, as if he was offended, but kept subtly looking at Suga from the corner of his eye.

Suga’s soft smile was at odds with the way his eyes trailed up Oikawa’s legs and body, lingering on his lips, to his eyes. “I know, I was just teasing.”

“Stop looking at me like you’re planning on eating me.” Oikawa thought back to the ‘dinners’ Suga had prepared at the display kitchens, and started to move ahead in search of a couch. Maybe, if they got out of Ikea early, preferably with a new couch, they could have the time for what Suga must’ve been thinking.

A couple of steps later, he felt Suga’s arms wrap around his waist from behind, and Suga’s breath fanning on his neck when he hooked his chin over his shoulder.

“I like your legs,” Suga whispered.

Oikawa smiled at the compliment, and was about to place his arms and hands over Suga’s, despite the marveling looks they were getting from some of the people around them, but his plan was foiled when Suga drew his arms back and pointed over his shoulder.

“Do you see that little tent?” Suga’s finger was pointing to one of the children’s room displays ahead of them, to a teepee shaped tent.

“Yeah?” Oikawa was a little suspicious of what Suga was planning to do with the tent. Surely he wouldn’t try to go in, or try and convince Oikawa to go in.

“Help me fill it with the stuffed toys in the bin next to it.”

Suga was wearing an excited expression, almost bouncing with happiness on the balls of his feet as he looked expectantly up at him.

“No.” Oikawa refused immediately, eyeing the stuffed owls in the bin, but Suga didn’t seem to care as he took off giggling towards his next mission.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, but followed Suga.

“Can you keep a look out so none of the store employees sees me?” Suga asked as he picked up the first owls, ready to drop them into the tent.

“How many times have you been thrown out of Ikea exactly?” Oikawa inquired as he leaned his hand on the dresser next to the tent, not looking around, hoping to get this nonsense out of the way as quickly as possible so they could find a couch and he could get Suga out of the store. To home. Maybe to bed.

The way Suga had looked at him, so subtly suggestively, had done something to Oikawa, had started something that Oikawa was looking forward to.

“I’m amazed they haven’t banned me from coming anymore,” Suga answered matter-of-factly, already throwing the owls in through the hole at the top of the teepee.

Oikawa blinked a couple of times as he processed what Suga just said. “Are you serious? Have you actually been escorted out of here before?” His voice rose higher with his incredulity.

“I never broke anything. But at some point the employees get fed up with all the stuff I keep messing with, and with scaring the customers.” Suga spoke while he filled the tent one owl at a time, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings since Oikawa had refused to do so, acting nonchalant whenever someone passed by them so as not to arise suspicion.

“Scaring the customers? Worse than what you did to the couple earlier at the wardrobe?” Oikawa asked with amusement. As embarrassing as he found how Suga was behaving in a busy public place, he really couldn’t help but be amused.

“One time I hid under a bed and grabbed randomly people’s ankles when they stopped next to it.” Suga spoke as if he was carrying on a normal conversation about the weather, not telling a story of a possible case of restraining order.

“What the hell, Suga-chan?” Oikawa’s mouth was gaping open. “You cannot be serious.” He wanted to laugh at the idea and hilarity of Suga’s prank, and some of it seeped into his voice, revealed it in his growing grin.

“It took a while for anyone to realize what was going on, but when they could pinpoint the direction where the screams were coming from they found me and escorted me out.” Suga dropped the last owl from the bin into the tent and brushed his hands together with a satisfied smile of a job well done. “It was a fun day.”

Oikawa made a choked sound of a scoff and a chuckle, unable to decide which one to go with so he ended up with both.

“Okay, come on,” Suga took Oikawa’s arm and started to lead him to the couches, or maybe towards his next prank. Oikawa didn’t care anymore.

Not even when Suga joked, “I’m convinced that the Ikea meatballs are made of people who couldn’t find their way out of the mall,” and scared the two young women walking past them, if the looks of horror on their faces were anything to go by.

When they _finally_ arrived to a wide variety of couches of different sizes, colors and shapes, Oikawa was a little bit relieved, for Suga couldn’t scare anymore people who had come to find furniture and other knick-knacks, who hadn’t thought they would have to speed-walk out of there thinking their lives were in danger.

Oikawa sat on the first on that caught his eye, it looked promising, and he found it almost agreeable. Only drawback was that it was narrow, his armchair at home was almost as big as the couch was. Although, it would be perfect for snuggling, he thought as he ran his hand over the texture of the cushions.

“What do you think of that one?”

Oikawa looked behind him at the sound of Suga’s voice and saw him two couches over, pointing to the light grey couch between them.

Oikawa pursed his lips as he first took a criticizing look, and then got up to walk over and sit on it. The couch was plush, comfortable and soft and Oikawa’s butt sunk into the cushions, but not so deep that he felt that he’d fall through it like he would if he tried to sit on a cloud. He could imagine himself on the couch in their living room.

“How is it?” Suga asked softly when he appeared next to him, bringing Oikawa back from his imagination.

Oikawa took his wrist and pulled him closer to the couch. “Sit down,” he suggested for Suga to try it for himself.

Suga did as he was told, but not on the couch but in Oikawa’s lap.

Oikawa laughed at Suga’s effrontery, and pushed him lightly to the side. “On the couch,” he said with the laughter coloring his voice.

Suga moved as he was instructed, silently chuckling along with Oikawa, and fell to sit next to him on the plush cushions. “Hmm, it’s soft.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa agreed, “I like it.”

Suga rest his head on Oikawa’s shoulder, and they sat quietly for a moment, pretending that they were alone in the store and there weren’t others passing by them.

“What are you thinking?” Oikawa glanced down to Suga and moved his hand from his own lap into Suga’s, his fingertips lightly trailing up and down on Suga’s thigh.

“My next prank,” Suga replied, his eyes flashing with mischief as their gazes met when he looked up. His expression softened after a moment, his eyes quickly looking down to Oikawa’s lips and then returned to his eyes. “You want to take this one?”

Oikawa figured Suga meant the couch, and nodded as he slumped a little lower, stretching his legs out as far as he could. “How much is the price?”

“Don’t worry about the cost,” Suga straightened to sit up on the edge of the couch as he tapped Oikawa’s thigh. “Noya’s paying for it.”

Oikawa snorted and continued it with a laugh. “You’re seriously going to make him pay for it?”

“It’s what he deserves.” Suga stated. “And he’s also paying for that footstool.” He pointed to the footstool, the cushion on it same color and seeming plushness, the width about a third of the length of the couch.

Oikawa’s shoulders shook with his silent chuckles. He hadn’t thought that Suga would actually go through with his threat to Nishinoya that the man would be responsible for buying them a new couch. And even though Suga said now that Nishinoya would pay for it, Oikawa still very much suspected that Suga didn’t actually seriously plan on making him pay.

“These won’t fit into the car,” Oikawa realized then, and informed Suga of it in case he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“It’s okay,” Suga said with a small smile. “We can have them delivered.”

Oikawa hummed, and agreed to it, knowing that it would be extra charge and that Nishinoya would pay for that as well. If Suga did really plan to make him pay, which Oikawa still doubted.

“Are you ready to go then?” Suga inquired, his hand on Oikawa’s knee.

“In a bit,” Oikawa hid a half of a yawn behind his hand while he stretched his other arm towards the ceiling. The couch got the more comfortable the longer he sat in it, and he felt the pull and call to lie down on it and take a nap. With the yawn gone and past, he reached for the back of Suga’s light jacket and pulled him to his side, and wrapped his arms around Suga to keep him close.

Suga didn’t resist, but immediately settled, snuggled to Oikawa’s side, one of his arms around Oikawa’s waist and one leg casually thrown over and between Oikawa’s.

“We’ve been walking around for an hour because of your pranks, my feet are tired,” Oikawa, with his eyes closed, mumbled against Suga’s hair, breathing in the clean scent of aloe vera.

 _Huh,_ he thought, _Suga must have switched to a new shampoo._

“How’s your knee?” Suga whispered.

Oikawa took a moment before he answered, actually assessing the feel on his knee before he jumped to the first obvious, safest answer of ‘fine’.

“It’s okay,” he settled on the condition of his knee.

“Are you sure?” Suga raised his head from his shoulder, his fingers playing with the seam at the side of Oikawa’s blazer.

When Oikawa opened his eyes and their gazes met, he saw how earnestly Suga was looking at him.

“It’s not hurting right now,” Oikawa assured honestly. Since Kuroo’s tryouts had been a couple of days ago, there hadn’t been any need for him to help Kuroo practice. Now they all just anxiously waited to find out whether Kuroo got in or not, and the wait really didn’t put any physical strain on his knee.

“Good,” Suga nodded, clearly pleased and relieved to hear it.

“But it might later tonight, when I come back from playing with Kuroo, Hinata and the other assorted riff-raff,” he said with a teasing smirk, insinuating that he might need Suga to pamper him later on.

Suga leaned away from Oikawa’s side, sitting up properly with his legs to himself and his arm drawn back so the hand that had played with the seam of the blazer was lying on Oikawa’s stomach. “You’re not staying home with me?” Suga asked instead of jumping onto the not so subtle hint. He didn’t sound disappointed, though, just curious.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa drawled, still with a slight smirk. “Do you have something more fun in mind that we could do?” He cocked his eyebrow, eyeing at Suga with his heavy insinuations.

“I don’t know, do I?” Suga mirrored his expression, his voice dipping to sultry tones.

Oikawa’s grin grew, and he brushed the hair at Suga’s forehead to the side, only to have the soft locks to fall back instantly after he removed his fingers. “We can do that later tonight too, can’t we?”

Suga’s smile was warm as he nodded his confirmation. “It’s better too, we don’t have to lock the door in middle of the day.”

Oikawa observed Suga’s features, eyes moving across his face, focusing on every little thing he saw there, as if he was memorizing the way Suga’s lips curled in the smile, how his eyes shone in the warm fluorescent lights, how his cheeks were slightly tinted with pink.

“We really need to tell everyone.”

“I know,” Suga admitted softly, looking down. “But how do we tell them? We’d have to get everyone together to tell them all at the same time for it to be fair.”

“I’m pretty sure that if we tell one, everyone else will know within thirty minutes.”

“But who is the one that we tell? Everyone will think we prefer him over the others, like him better.” Suga looked up, now his eyes searching for something on Oikawa’s face.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa admitted. “Iwa-chan?”

“Do you want to be the one to tell?”

“We could do it together, with Daichi there too.”

Suga hummed, seemingly thinking about it. “You know, I think everyone is already suspecting that we’re more than just roommates.”

“Why?” Oikawa’s brow furrowed shortly with confusion, but smoothed out quickly as he remembered what Suga must’ve meant. “Because Akaashi made that comment of you getting dicked?”

Suga sputtered with laughter. “Yes, exactly,” he replied when he was over the sudden fit of laughter.

“Then we should do it as soon as possible.”

Suga nodded along, his focus on the passersby.

Oikawa took deep inhale and he exhaled sharply as he kicked himself up from the couch. “Okay, let’s go. If I stay any longer on this couch I’m going to fall asleep on it.”

Suga chuckled softly as Oikawa offered his hands to him to pull him up from the couch as well. “Let’s get this couch so we can go home,” he said and wrapped his arm around Suga’s shoulders as they started to leave.

Suga turned under the arm to walk backwards and in front of Oikawa for a couple of steps, and Oikawa’s arm moved from his shoulders and hand traveled down Suga’s arm down to his hand, where he intertwined their fingers. Only then, Suga turned back around, and they made their way downstairs with their hands interlocked, only forced to separate when they passed a large group oohing and aahing by a “light-show”, courtesy of Suga messing with the color switch on them and the timers, creating a pseudo-laser show in one of the displays.

On their way out, Suga took off from Oikawa’s side with quick steps. Oikawa watched with a confused frown Suga pick up three stuffed toys, little teacup pigs, and sighed with exasperation that they were back to Suga’s minor pranks.

“What are you planning to do to the poor innocent teacup pigs?”

“You’ll see,” Suga replied mysteriously, a foreboding impish grin growing on his face, and they continued towards the exit.

A moment later, Suga perked up. “Perfect,” he said under his breath and took a turn down another aisle, while Oikawa continued on the aisle they had been walking along. He could see Suga through the large gaps on the separating floor-to-ceiling shelf, but he wasn’t filled with horror until they met at the crossing of a wider aisle, when he saw Suga approach an assortment of grills.

“Suga-chan,” he hissed, already dreading what his crazy boyfriend was planning with the stuffed toys and the grills.

“I’m glad it’s almost summer,” Suga spoke conversationally as he opened the grill, placed the unfortunate teacup pigs in a neat row, and closed the lid. He looked to Oikawa with a happy smile, as if he had accomplished something of grandeur.

Oikawa’s eyes were unblinking with amazement and horror, feeling a little bit proud that he was dating someone who with not a single day would be boring, but also apprehensive of the terrible things Suga could come up with – like putting the stuffed toys in the grill as if he was about to prepare them for food.

“I really wish there had been those cute little alien plushies down here, they would’ve fit better with what I was going for.” Suga’s voice was filled with regret, but he still looked too pleased with himself for Oikawa to not make a comment of what he just witnessed.

“You’re truly, absolutely, most definitely and with substance disturbing me right now.”

“Ah, good,” Suga tilted his head a little to the side, his eyes narrowed with his wide grin. “We can go then.” He took off with a barely there, happy skip in his steps.

“How the hell do you come up with this stuff?” Oikawa asked after him, his eyes without a fail focusing on Suga’s behind.

How was it possible that he was a little turned on too?

Suga drove to Daichi and Iwaizumi’s to return the car with much more ease in his steering and much more confidence that he wouldn’t accidentally scratch or dent the car. And he didn’t, to Oikawa’s relief. Neither of their best friends was home at the moment, which was just fine as they left the car in the parking garage. They figured they could tell them about their relationship on another day.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto greeted them once they got home, the second they opened the door and stepped inside the temporarily sparsely decorated apartment. “Where have you been all day?”

“Ikea,” Oikawa answered and closed the door after Suga had fully come in as well. He spared Bokuto, and Akaashi too who was sitting by the kitchen island, from the knowledge that they had stopped to eat on their way home. The couple smooching off of their fridge didn’t need to know of their impromptu date.

“Were you thrown out again?” Bokuto directed the question to Suga, laughing with it.

“Not this time,” Suga replied, his voice filled with pride about the fact, but his expression seemed letdown. “I’m a little disappointed.”

Bokuto laughed loudly, his hands holding his stomach and his head thrown back. Apparently he wasn’t a stranger to Suga’s odd antics that were awoken only in Ikea.

Oikawa just shook his head, still in disbelief of what he had witnessed Suga do, what he had never thought Suga would think of.

“Did you find a couch?” Akaashi asked in his calm deadpan way.

“It’ll be delivered tomorrow,” Suga nodded, and headed down the hallway.

“If I’d known you were going to Ikea with Suga, I would’ve warned you of his habit.” Akaashi said to Oikawa when they heard the faint sound of bathroom lock turning.

“He’s done it with you too?” Oikawa leaned his arms on the kitchen island next to the passive man.

“Once,” Akaashi nodded and took a sip of his wine glass. “I have to say, I’ve never been more amused and disturbed at the same time.”

“Were you there when he was grabbing people’s ankles from under the bed?”

“No,” Akaashi let out a surprised short burst of laughter, surprising and shocking Oikawa with it.

He was certain he’d never heard Akaashi laugh before, but it made sense that the terrifying things Suga had done would amuse the usually mannerly man with guarded reactions, since he was somewhat disturbing with his drunken nonsensical comments.

“But I did witness him put his head into every oven and muse in a loud voice how his head fit inside perfectly or if there was too much space to breathe,” Akaashi spoke as if he hadn’t just laughed, once again calm and dispassionate. “And climb on the refrigerators to grouch there and hiss at passersby.”

“Oh, my –” Oikawa shook his head and hid his face into his hands as he tried his best not to laugh. The image just was too funny for him to not laugh.

“He’s favorite thing at Ikea is to build pillow forth,” Akaashi said. “Did he try that this time too?”

Oikawa shook his head as a denial, but he had seen how Suga had eyed the beddings. And he had foolishly and naively thought that Suga had considered buying them.

“And one time, when he went with Daichi, apparently he hid in the wardrobes and just growled to scare people off.” Bokuto joined in on the fun, his grin easily detectable in his voice.

Oikawa bit his lips not to laugh out loud, but his body betrayed him as he started to shake with the suppressed giggles escaping his nose in short breaths.

“Oh!” Bokuto exclaimed as he recalled another instance. “Remember the picture he sent us all when he went alone?” He must’ve spoken to Akaashi, for Oikawa had no recollection of such a thing happening and he was still hiding behind his hands. “He had sat these big bears at one table that was set ready for eating, and in the middle of the table on a large dish was one more bear lying down like it was the dinner for the other bears.”

The dam broke, and Oikawa was full on laughing, his body twisting and bending at the force of the hilarity he had tried to muffle.

“He’s a bit of a ghoul sometimes,” Akaashi shrugged, his voice carrying to Oikawa through his loud laughter, but he was smiling as well, while Bokuto was full on grinning.

Oikawa was more convinced than ever before that there would not be a dull day for the rest of his life if he could spend the rest of his days with Suga.

“He’s more than just a _bit_ of a ghoul,” Oikawa corrected through his chuckles that were slowly dying out.

“My ears are burning,” Suga said then, surprising everyone with his presence. Oikawa almost expected him to have walked out with a teddy bear in one hand and a large kitchen knife in the other.

“Did you tell Tooru about the time I went under the covers in one of the beds and shot up to sit with a loud scream and then immediately pretended to fall back asleep?” Suga inquired when he joined them in the kitchen, casually wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s waist from behind and resting his chin over his shoulder.

Oikawa had already assumed that Suga really liked giving him back hugs, and with every such hug that he received from Suga, his supposition was confirmed. And judging from the lack of surprise on Akaashi and Bokuto’s part, they were already suspecting that they were more than just roommates.

“No,” Bokuto was laughing again, bounding the island with his hand. “I forgot about that.”

“How quickly were you thrown out then?” Oikawa glanced towards his shoulder to look at Suga as he asked.

“I think I managed five separate nightmare screams until the employees got fed up with it and called security to escort me out.” Suga spoke thoughtfully, clearly looking back to it fondly.

“Remember roller chair race?” Akaashi asked with an imperceptible smile.

“Oh yeah!” Bokuto exclaimed, recovered from his fit of laughter. “That was the best!” he said reverently but enthusiastically as he gazed up to the ceiling.

“What?” Oikawa frowned, lost on what they on earth could it mean. _A roller chair race? Sounds like a round trip to hospital to every passersby,_ he thought.

Suga squeezed him for a moment, and then stepped to stand next to him, one arm still around his back. “A bunch of us went to Ikea once and we all picked a chair and raced around the displays as fast as we could,” Suga explained, smiling fondly.

“The only rule was that you weren’t allowed to get up from the chair or you’d lose.” Bokuto added. “Even if the employees or security caught you, you had to stay seated or face an instant forfeit.”

Oikawa frowned, a smile playing on his lips as he envisioned his friends racing on office chairs around and around in Ikea. “That was the end goal? To stay seated as long as possible?”

Suga nodded, finally drawing his arm from around Oikawa as he went to the fridge. “Kenma won,” he said as he perused the contents of their fridge. “He just sat in one place while everyone else raced around.”

“Hinata likes to think Kenma was clever for just sitting to win, when in reality he was just too lazy to do anything else.” Bokuto chuckled, shaking his head with fond exasperation and incredulity.

“Who was caught first?” Oikawa was intrigued – he needed to know who was the loudest or the most careless. For science reasons.

The three men fell silent as they probably tried to remember.

“I don’t know,” Akaashi said first. “I didn’t know any of these idiots then.”

“I don’t remember either, though I was there,” Suga mused his hand on his chin while he let the cold air out of the fridge by holding the door open with his other.

“It was probably me,” Bokuto admitted, looking pensive. “I remember falling when I crashed to a shelf.”

“It might’ve been Yaku too,” Suga commented. “It was the last time he did anything fun and crazy with us.”

 

 

...

 

 

Suga gave Oikawa a look to just let it go and returned the shirt back into its place. “Maybe my mom can try some of her magic on the stain.”

“But that doesn’t help me now,” Oikawa bemoaned desperately.

“I’m going to say this one more time,” Suga spoke as he went back to the bed and sat down, loosely hugging one of the pillows he pulled into his lap. “She doesn’t care what you wear. Anything is fine.”

He saw how Oikawa heaved a sigh and reached for another shirt, looked at it speculatively, shrugged, and pulled it on.

“How’s this?” Oikawa turned first to the mirror, then to Suga, and once again back to the mirror.

Suga tilted his head in astonishment, because, how was it possible for Oikawa to look even better with every shirt he pulled on. “Scintillating.”

Oikawa stopped in mid-twirl, turned his head slowly to look at Suga, and then took the shirt off. “That’s it,” he said like he’d given up and threw the shirt on Suga’s head. If he had aimed for the shirt to cover Suga’s head, his aim was impeccable, if he didn’t, it was one lucky shot.

“I have nothing to wear,” Oikawa decided, speaking as if he hadn’t just heard Suga. “I need new clothes.”

“I was serious,” Suga laughed under the shirt. “You looked amazing in this.” He pulled the shirt off of his head and dropped it into the pile next to him. “Besides, your closet is full of clothes,” he kept laughing, Oikawa’s frustration far too amusing not to, and tried his best to muffle it into the pillow he was hugging. “Stop being so nervous about my mom. She loves you. You really don’t need to impress her.”

“But you’re going to tell her that we’re together now, and I’d like it to go better than how it went when we told everyone in here.”

“How would the way you’re dressed have any effect on how I tell my mom?” Suga questioned, genuinely wanting to know the reasoning behind Oikawa’s thoughts to come to the conclusion. “Besides, it wasn’t a disaster, stop painting it like that.”

“You left me alone to feed the wolves.” Oikawa pointed a finger at Suga with betrayal written in his expression. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that,” he added quietly, turning back to his quickly-turning-into-an-impossible task.

Suga ducked his chin, half out of shame, half to cover his triumphant smile. It might’ve been a dick move on his part how he made Oikawa tell everyone, but it had to be done. Besides, he still found the whole thing more amusing than horrible. Of course Oikawa disagreed, always the one for dramatics, but Suga was working on Oikawa forgiving him, with small sweet kisses filled with love and adoration whenever Oikawa demanded them. Really, it wasn’t that bad of a punishment in Suga’s opinion.

 

 

...

 

“Did you hear about the new locks?” Tanaka asked the previous Saturday.

Almost everyone’s schedules had weirdly coincided and had a free weekend. It was a rarity with some of them working shifts, but it did happen from time to time. _Oh, joy,_ Oikawa had thought when someone, he didn’t remember anymore who it had been, had mentioned it as if it was the best news ever. Too bad it was raining and they couldn’t go out for a picnic or something, get some fresh air and keep everyone away from the new couch.

But he couldn’t complain right then, not in his position sitting between Suga’s legs, not with Suga perched on the back of the couch behind him and his fingers alternatively running through his hair in slow meticulous strokes and massaging his scalp, paying especial attention to the area around his nape.

He had been beyond stressed lately, according to Suga, who had tried his best to alleviate it. And with the soft finger-combing and gentle massaging, Oikawa was more than pleased and silently grateful.

“Apparently we’re going to get new locks, with those number pads and codes.”

"Really?” Bokuto asked, tilting his head so quickly to the side Oikawa was sure he had broken his neck. “How do you know?” With his eyes on Tanaka, it was a miracle he caught the Koosh ball he was throwing with Hanamaki on the floor over the coffee table.

“I ran into the landlady downstairs, she was with some locksmith or something inspecting the old lock on the front door,” Tanaka explained, his head moving as if he was watching the most intense tennis match as he followed the Koosh ball back and forth.

“Good,” Kuroo commented from behind his phone. Oikawa assumed he was texting, or worse, sexting, with Tsukishima. “I’m tired of answering Lev’s calls for help because he keeps forgetting his keys.”

“What if he forgets his code?” Hanamaki pointed out. “He’s still going to call you.”

“If he forgets it even once I’m going to tattoo it on his forehead.”

“How’s that going to help?” Matsukawa asked while Suga chuckled at Kuroo’s idea. “He can’t see his forehead.”

“I’ll tattoo it in reverse and buy him a mirror.”

“What if he forgets the mirror?” Bokuto asked with laughter coloring his voice.

“I...” Kuroo trailed off, but it was impossible to tell if he was stumped because he didn’t have a reply, or because of a text Tsukishima sent him. Really, the blush coloring his cheeks with pretty pink could be the cause of either of reasons.

“You didn’t think the idea through, Kuroo.” Hanamaki laughed as he fell on his back, just and just catching the Koosh ball Bokuto threw with a little too much force. 

“The new locks have been in plans for months already.” Suga said calmly, and Oikawa felt him shift in his seat on the back of the couch when he started to gather his hair up into a bun.

“I hope the intercom system is going to be fixed as well,” Asahi said.  

“I just hope I’ll remember the code,” Hinata spoke uncertainly and scratched his head as if he was in deep thought. “I’m not the best with numbers.”

“You can put it in your phone, that way you don’t need to worry about forgetting it,” Nishinoya suggested, and Hinata nodded his head, probably thinking it was a good idea.

“Don’t the number padded locks mean that all the doors are going to lock automatically when you close them?” Tanaka asked then, and everyone seemed to think the same thing.

“No one’s getting our code,” Oikawa dipped his head back to quickly whisper to Suga.

“So, Suga, Oikawa, we’re going to need your code,” Kuroo stated easily, still rudely paying more attention to his phone, as if it was given that they would do so.

“No way,” Oikawa refused immediately, bringing his head back, causing Suga to start gathering the hair up again.

Everyone was silent and still, as if frozen to process Oikawa’s words. As if there was something unfathomable to them that they wouldn’t have access to the apartment anymore.

“What do you mean ‘no way’?” Hanamaki asked, and everyone turned to look at Oikawa, and by extension Suga who was sitting behind him.

“That.” Oikawa stated absolutely.

“But – but –“ Bokuto was floundering.

“You can’t not give us your code.” Kuroo sounded a little outraged, his phone finally put down. “What if we get hungry?”

“Buy food,” Oikawa offered the simple solution.

“What if we want to hang?” Hanamaki demanded.

“Do it somewhere else.”

“Suga?” Hinata called for his attention.

From where Suga was, Oikawa couldn’t see his expression, but it was probably as calm, maybe just a small smile, as his hands’ movements. Or so he assumed from the way Suga’s hands’ movements hadn’t changed at all as they still slowly and softly gathered and twisted his hair.

“Are you really going to lock us out of your apartment? We really can’t visit anymore?” Hinata sounded sad and small, and Oikawa felt just a little bit bad.

“No, we’re not going to lock you out,” Suga answered kindly.

“Ha!” Kuroo pointed his finger at Oikawa with a victorious grin, as if he had just won something.

“But we’re not going to give you the code either,” Suga added as he finished the bun with the hair tie he had pulled off the second he had sat behind Oikawa. “You can knock or ring the doorbell.”

“What if we’re hungry and you’re not home?”

“It’s always so flattering to learn that you only come here for the food and not the company and friendship,” Suga replied, a smile in his voice, and he lifted his leg over Oikawa’s head so he could turn in his seat and stand up behind the couch.

“Where are you going Suga?” Bokuto asked with alarm, looking dejected.

Oikawa glanced behind him to see Suga walking away and towards the hallway.

“You know we come here to see you. Please don’t be hurt,” Bokuto continued.

Suga turned to look at him with a smile. “I have a meeting with Takeda,” he answered Bokuto’s first question. “And yes, I know, don’t worry, we’re okay.”

“It’s Saturday, why are you meeting him on Saturday? Doesn’t he have office hours?”

“He’s busy and begged if I would sacrifice my Saturday afternoon for a meeting.” Suga explained and left the lot of them behind in the living room, the Koosh ball still flying through the air.

“What kind of secrets could you have that you would want to keep us away from your apartment?” Kuroo fixed a suspicious look at Oikawa.

“The kind that are none of your business,” Oikawa replied, thinking how his snooping neighbors already knew too much, and straightened himself to lie on the couch, throwing his legs to Matsukawa’s lap, who was certainly about to fall asleep in his seat, but who pushed the legs off of him immediately, almost pushing Oikawa off the couch with it.

As he sat back up, he threw a reproachful glare towards Matsukawa, who smirked lazily in response.

“You should still give the code to someone, in case of emergencies,” Hanamaki suggested.

“Hmm,” Oikawa faked a hum as he pretended to think about it, his hand on his chin, his index finger tapping on his cheek. “I think in that case we’ll give it to our best friends who _don’t_ live in this building and therefore can’t abuse their power.”

“We won’t abuse the power,” Hinata denied immediately.

Oikawa finally turned his head enough, lifting it a little in the process, to see Hinata and Nishinoya sitting on the kitchen island sharing a tub of ice cream. _What a wonderful lunch they’ve found for themselves,_ he wondered. But he wasn’t their guardian; it wasn’t his responsibility to lecture them about proper diet and necessary nutrients.

“Ah!” Kuroo clutched his heart at the same time. “The betrayal.”

Oikawa grinned, and let out an amused breath before he stood up and picked up his coffee cup from the coffee table to take it to the sink. It had been empty for a long while now, and it had been bugging him, just sitting there empty and bothersome and useless at the moment since it wasn’t filled with delicious life giving coffee.

At the sink, he opened a drawer and took out two spoons, and held them for Hinata and Nishinoya. “With a bigger spoon you can eat more.”

Hinata looked to him with big eyes, while Nishinoya discarded the little spoon by throwing it immediately into the sink where it clattered noisily and snatched one of the spoons Oikawa held out for them.

“Go on,” Oikawa encouraged Hinata to take the other spoon, and with reverence he did. Hinata looked at the spoon as if he couldn’t believe he was allowed to eat with it, as if it was the most valuable treasure in the world, but he snapped out of it when he must’ve noticed how fast Nishinoya was with his ice cream shoveling.

With a pleased smile, Oikawa turned back to the living room, and he heard a fervent whisper he didn’t particularly like.

“I’m betting again,” Kuroo spoke low under his breath to Bokuto, who he had leaned closer to.

“Again? Do you remember what happened when Suga found out?” Hanamaki hissed.

“Oikawa still hasn’t done it, so I’m changing the bet to both of them, and I bet it’s still going to be Oikawa.” Kuroo replied in a whisper.

Oikawa followed the conversation as best he could from the kitchen, suspiciously eyeing them.

“No, no,” Tanaka shook his head with fervent. “Everyone has already lost the bet. We shouldn’t bet again.”

“But no one won, and Asahi still has all our money,” Kuroo pointed out, leaning even closer to the coffee table, closer to everyone’s heads already huddled together there.

“You haven’t come to get the money,” Asahi defended, his hands up and in front of him.

“I’m staying out of it and you should too,” Bokuto said to Kuroo with horror underlying his nervous whisper.

“Oikawa!” Matsukawa called then, and he walked back to the living room and stopped behind the old couch, leaning his hands to the back of it.

“What?” he asked innocently, his eyebrow quirked with curiosity.

“Are you ever going to tell Suga that you like him?”

“Shout it out, why don’t you,” he suggested with a hiss, as if Suga didn’t already know. After all, the secret that he liked Suga had long ago changed into a secret between him and Suga that they kept from everyone else.

“Confess before this idiot bets again,” Hanamaki gestured with his thumb at Kuroo.

“Because the last bet ended so well,” Oikawa pointed out with a smirk, speaking to Kuroo.

“Just confess to Suga already!” Bokuto whisper-shouted at him.

Oikawa schooled his features to look offended that he was pushed to do so. “I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“Come on,” Kuroo whined and rolled his eyes. “You’ve been ready for weeks. Months!”

“I’m not taking advice from someone who hasn’t brushed their hair in a decade.” Oikawa quipped back, not appreciating the eye roll. As if he would be doing something wrong with taking his time.

“I brush it every day,” Kuroo defended himself.

Oikawa made a point of looking at Kuroo’s hair, and then met his eyes with a quirked eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, stop lying, Kuroo,” Hinata spoke up from the kitchen. Everyone had forgotten to whisper once the debate had heated up. “Kenma says you’ve never owned a brush.”

“I can’t believe I’m being attacked like this,” Kuroo looked affronted, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning back in the armchair, and then ran his hand by his hair, almost caressing it.

“Just tell –“ Hanamaki abruptly stopped in middle of his sentence, and everyone fell quiet as well when they all heard Suga coming back from the hallway. 

Oikawa looked at Suga on instinct, noted the slightly better clothes Suga always picked from his closet to wear for his meetings with Takeda, meaning his jeans weren’t ripped or didn’t have holes in them. He would’ve been jealous and a little suspect of Suga trying a little harder with his clothes if he didn’t know that Takeda was in a happy and committed relationship.

And since he was looking at Suga, he noticed it when Suga stopped as he noticed the bigger spoons Hinata and Nishinoya were shoveling the ice cream into their mouths with. They must’ve been scraping the bottom of the big tub, they had been at it for some time already.

“Why don’t you just give them a ladle to eat the ice cream with?” Suga questioned, his tone sarcastic, as he eyed worriedly the duo on the kitchen island.

“Because it wouldn’t fit into their mouths,” Oikawa deadpanned the obvious.

“I think it might,” Nishinoya wondered aloud in middle of licking his spoon.

“Don’t you dare,” Suga warned. “I don’t want you to choke.”

“I think, if you’re going to eat ice cream, you need to eat as much as possible before it melts, so it would make sense to eat it with a big scoop,” Bokuto chimed in from the floor.

“You realize I’m their emergency contact, right?” Suga asked then, walking towards the living room. “I don’t want to get a call from the hospital because they almost choked on a big ice cream scoop. Please don’t encourage them.”

“I promise to keep them away from the big soup ladles,” Kuroo said seriously. “Bokuto, give them a spaghetti server,” he added quickly with a mischievous grin, nudging Bokuto with his hand. He got laughter in a response from the onlookers in the living room.

“I’m going now,” Suga responded quickly, as if he was in a hurry to leave before he’d have to see that disaster.

“Bye,” Oikawa chuckled, looking after him.

“Oh, Tooru,” Suga said then as if he remembered something, turning on his heel without stopping. He was digging into his open camera bag as he walked to him, behind the couch. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Depends what it is,” Oikawa replied with precaution, eyeing a little mistrustfully the way Suga was looking for something in his bag. 

“Go to the meeting with Takeda-san for me?” Suga looked up to him with big eyes, looking hopeful, smiling charmingly.

Oikawa laughed lightly, his body shaking a little with his amusement. “There’s no way.”

“It was a good try,” Suga sighed, his hand coming out of the bag, holding the camera. He didn’t look disappointed, though, not at all. And maybe Oikawa should’ve been suspicious of it. “I guess I’m going then.”

Suga smiled, put his free hand gently behind Oikawa’s neck, rose a little on his tiptoes, and kissed Oikawa lightly on his lips.

Oikawa was frozen, nailed to the floor, a stone statue without Harry Potter magic. He barely registered that Suga snapped a quick photo of everyone in the living room, for he was internally freaking out that Suga had kissed him,

IN

FRONT

OF

EVERYONE

“Okay, bye,” Suga said with a satisfied smile, the kind the devil would have when he did a bad deed that he found the funniest thing ever. He waved his hand as a goodbye as he slipped his camera back into his bag, walking a couple of steps backwards before he turned around.

He was already at the front door when Oikawa finally stopped screaming betrayal at Suga inside his head, trying to stop Suga with his mind and powerful jedi powers.

“Suga-chan, get back here,” he called after Suga’s furthering back.

“I have to go so I won’t be late,” Suga replied with too much air in his voice to sound like he was sorry at all.

“You can’t just kiss me like that in front of everyone and leave.”  

“Already left, can’t hear you.” Suga was putting his shoes on.

“Koushi,” Oikawa beckoned in a lower voice. “If you leave now, we’re over.”

“Bye!” Suga said cheerfully and closed the door after him, leaving Oikawa alone to deal with the fallout.

 _What bad have I ever done in my life to be treated like this?_ he asked from the universe, as the door closed and the sound of it seemed to break the scary silence that had filled their apartment and frozen everyone.

“WHAT! THE! HELL?!” Kuroo jumped up from the armchair. “WHAT THE HELL?!” he asked even louder, gaping at Oikawa, gesturing with open and reaching arms, as if trying to find answers in the air with his flailing.

“This is the happiest day of my life!” Bokuto praised happily from the floor, looking up to the ceiling like he had found Nirvana.

“I fucking knew it!” Nishinoya crowed victoriously.

And suddenly everyone was asking questions at the same time.

Oikawa covered his ears and closed his eyes form the onslaught of intermixing of voices and demands and questions. He made a silent vow that Suga would pay for this. But as upset as he was that Suga had just done what he did, he couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face as he was so relieved that at least everyone knew now. Or at least almost everyone.

“We need answers and we need them now!” Hanamaki banged his fist on the coffee table as Oikawa faced them and their questions with pride, feeling confident, and with a slight smile.

“Yeah, hey, hi,” Kuroo raised his hand, calling for everyone’s attention. “Kuroo Tetsurou, from the _Betrayals and Lies_ magazine. How long has this been going on? And if I may, a follow up question; why did you hide this from us?”

“How’s the sex?” Nishinoya asked from the kitchen with a sly grin.

“I’m not answering that,” Oikawa snapped without sparing a glance towards the short man.

“I’m letting everyone know about this,” Hanamaki said then and brought his cell phone out.

“Can you not,” Oikawa hesitated for a moment, but decided to finish his sentence anyway. “ – tell Iwa-chan?”

Hanamaki looked at him with open face, already asking why without having to voice it.

“I want to tell him myself.” Oikawa explained.

“Sure, Oikawa,” Hanamaki nodded as he easily agreed to it, but with the heaviness of importance in his voice, probably understanding why Oikawa would want to tell Iwaizumi.

“Don’t tell Daichi either,” Matsukawa said and yawned. Apparently the news hadn’t quite shocked him awake. “I bet Suga wants to tell him.” Or, maybe, as Suga already suspected, he had already known.

Oikawa nodded his head, knowing this for a fact. “And to answer your question, Kuroo,” he said cockily. “We didn’t tell anyone before because we didn’t think you deserved to know after the bet.”

“But this is so much crueler,” Kuroo protested. “To keep your dearest friends in dark about a happy development in your lives.”

“I’m so happy,” Bokuto reverently whispered from the floor again, now sprawled like a starfish on the floor.

“Kuroo’s right, Oikawa. You should’ve told us,” Hanamaki said, shaking his head as if he was disappointed.

“And you call us your friends.” Kuroo hissed, his eyes narrowed.

Oikawa smirked. “But I _don’t_ call you my friends.”

A collective gasp broke the atmosphere in the room.

“I have never been so betrayed in my life!” Kuroo brought his hand on his chest in offence for the second time that evening.

Oikawa was more amused than worried by his friends’ – _yes, friends –_ antics to be even a little bit concerned that they were actually hurt or disappointed. They were his and Suga’s friends after all. He knew they understood why their relationship had only been between the two of them. It was in their banter, their smiles that they tried to hide, in the way Hinata was giddily spinning on his butt on the kitchen island as if he was experiencing euphoria. Although, Hinata’s behavior could be put down to a sugar rush too from the excessive amount of ice cream he had undoubtedly inhaled by that point.

The only one reserved from voicing out the betrayal or the disappointment was Asahi, and when Oikawa made eye contact with him, he caught the subtle nod and a smile, as if Asahi was giving his approval.

It didn’t take long for everyone to run out of steam and after most of the outcries of unfairness had died out, everyone had left one by one or in pairs of two, Hinata and Nishinoya holding their stomachs and moaning with stomach ache, Kuroo dragging limp Bokuto across the floor by his hands, all of them leaving Oikawa alone to his last preparations with his thesis.

He immersed himself in his studies by the kitchen island without thinking much about it, just automatically settling down there as he had done so many times before.

“Hey.”

Oikawa lifted his head from the position it had been in – cradled in his hands and cheeks a little squished – at the sound of the soft greeting and straightened his back. But he didn’t turn or say hey back. He did, however take quick look at the clock at the bottom of his screen and was surprised to see how long ago he had sat down by the kitchen island.

He still remained quiet when he felt arms encircle him from behind as Suga back hugged him. He didn’t even react when he felt a soft kiss at the base of his neck. He kept his eyes steady on his laptop screen, blinking only to prevent his eyes from drying out.

“Okay, so, you’re mad at me,” Suga said, his voice soft and a maybe just a little bit apologetic.

Oikawa hummed his response, as he felt Suga rest his cheek on his shoulder blade, temple against his shoulder.

“How’d it go?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Oikawa replied, eyes steadfastly moving across the lines but not really reading. Suga’s hands had slipped under his shirt and were softly drawing miscellaneous shapes over his hips, distracting him.

“I’m sorry.”

Oikawa felt Suga’s arms tighten around him as he apologized, but Oikawa was adamant to be mad.

“Still not talking to you.”

“Alright,” Suga said softly as he unwound his arms, his fingertips gliding gently across Oikawa’s abdomen, causing his muscles to contract at the tickling touch, and extricated himself from Oikawa’s back. “I need a shower.”

Oikawa looked after Suga when he was sure that Suga wouldn’t see it, and waited and contemplated whether to go after him. He was still a little mad, and wasn’t exactly ready to forgive Suga for leaving him alone to deal with their friends. They had agreed to tell everyone together, which he guessed technically they did. But still. He had missed Suga during his hours’ absence.

With a determined exhale, he pushed himself from the chair, closed his laptop and made his way down the hallway. He could already hear the water running as he was at the bathroom door, and pushed the door open, knowing that Suga would’ve left it unlocked when it was just the two of them in the apartment, not as an invitation for Oikawa to join him, but as a sign of trust that he didn’t have for their neighbors, who apparently in the past had come in, snapped a photo, and cheesed it. He couldn’t see Suga through the milk glass partition, or he couldn’t see more than his obscured outline.

“How was the meeting with Takeda?” he asked as he sat on the closed lid of the toilet.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” came Suga’s water soaked response.

“I’m not.”

“Okay,” Suga agreed to it easily. “Can you leave me to shower alone then?” He peeked from behind the divider, his wet hair dripping.

“How was the meeting?”

Suga looked back at him for a moment, before he returned under the stream with a flash of soft smile. “Just the usual. He asked me how I was doing, how I was getting along with new photos, if I’d found inspiration, he told me he’d sold a couple of my photos and then we decided on the photo to be exhibited at the big event in Kyoto next month.”

“What did he say about the comment cards?”

Oikawa had been harboring anxiousness to know the content of the comment cards, what people had to say about Suga’s photos. Even though Suga had initially offered that they’d go through them together, Oikawa had been more focused on getting his diploma, and Suga had had to go through them alone. Suga had said he didn’t mind, but he wouldn’t quench Oikawa’s thirst to know what had been in them either. Oikawa had had to assume that the consensus of them had been good, at least from Suga’s shy smile.

“He was pleased,” Suga answered after a moment, and added with a hopeful voice, “Can you leave now?”

“I was thinking of joining you,” Oikawa teased.

“You won’t fit,” Suga laughed. “Just leave.”

“Fine.” Oikawa stood up with a resigned sigh.

“You’re really not mad at me then?”

“I will give you the details of your detention and community service once you’ve showered. Prepare to be thoroughly punished. I know jedi mind tricks.”

Suga was laughing, his words barely audible. “Leave.”

“Alright, I’m going, leaving you alone to jerk off.” Oikawa smirked as he stepped out of the steamy bathroom.

“I won’t be thinking of you,” Suga called after him.

“Stop lying to yourself,” Oikawa shouted back through his laughter, closing the bathroom door, making a silent vow to himself that someday he and Suga _will_ shower together. If not in this shower, then in another.

 

 

...

 

 

“Is this better than the last one?” Oikawa asked as he threw on another button down, rolling his shoulders so it settled better on him.

“Maybe you should just forego the shirt altogether,” Suga suggested, trailing his eyes across his chest. He didn’t hate the shirt – it actually looked really good on Oikawa, the color really suited him and it was extremely slim fitted. But more than just how it looked on Oikawa, Suga’s eyes were following Oikawa’s fingers as they closed the buttons, and he was mourning the loss of the sight of Oikawa’s bare torso.

“You want me to walk around shirtless?” Oikawa turned to fully look at Suga as he finished buttoning the shirt, his eyebrow cocked flirtatiously, smirk growing on his lips. “In front of your mother?”

 _“I_ definitely wouldn’t hate seeing you shirtless.”

Oikawa snorted and turned back to the mirror, smoothing his hand down the long sleeves as he observed the look. “Thirsty much?”

“For you?” Suga moved his gaze from Oikawa’s now clothed chest to his eyes through the mirror. “Always,” he answered honestly, smiling mischievously. He knew what he was doing – the flirtatious tone Oikawa had spoken in hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.

“Of course you are,” Oikawa stated confidently as he twisted this and that way in front of the mirror.

“You can’t blame me,” Suga defended himself, his gaze still wandering on the spectacular sight in front of him – the long legs, perfectly rounded ass, the strong back. “I mean, have you seen yourself?”

Oikawa chuckled as he walked in slow, sure steps closer to the bed, Suga’s anticipation of what he was about to do torturously growing with every step. It didn’t help when Oikawa cupped Suga’s cheeks with his hands and just looked into his eyes for a lingering moment.

“Can we take this off?” Suga asked in a whisper, his hand tucking on the hem of the shirt Oikawa was wearing, his lips tantalizingly brushing against Oikawa’s.

Oikawa hummed in thought as he closed the last bit of distance between their lips and kissed Suga, his tongue slipping in between Suga’s.

“Do you think the shirt would look better on the floor than it does on me?” Oikawa asked when he abruptly stopped kissing Suga.

“I really do,” Suga answered, his hands already playing on the bottom button of Oikawa’s shirt, and Oikawa kissed him again, every lick into Suga’s mouth hotter than the last. Suga worked open three buttons with quick fingers and slipped his hand under the shirt, moving it slowly over Oikawa’s lower back and sides.

But their position was a little tricky for Suga as he had to tilt his chin up, and he could feel a crick start to form in his neck. Deciding it was the best for his neck, Suga leaned back to lie on the bed and pulled Oikawa after him.

“You’re insatiable,” Oikawa chuckled into their kiss, his lips never leaving Suga’s, when Suga managed to get all the buttons open and pushed the shirt off over Oikawa’s shoulders. “We had sex this morning.”

“I’m not the one who’s been parading half-naked since,” Suga replied. A broken sigh escaped him and his breathing stuttered as Oikawa settled more comfortable between Suga’s legs, their hips lined. “Take the shirt off,” Suga ordered in a hushed voice, already a little breathless.

Oikawa sat up a little so he could shrug the shirt off, giving an amazing view to Suga of his bare upper body and all the lean muscles he had there. “Like what you see?” he asked with a smirk.

Suga groaned and half hid his face behind his hands. “I can’t believe you, get off me,” he said when he dropped his hands, landing on Oikawa’s waist.

Oikawa moved back down, placing his hands on the bed on both sides of Suga’s head. “Please say you’re kidding,” he asked with a whisper.

“I am,” Suga confirmed, and Oikawa surged into a kiss right after. “Just –“ Suga tried to speak between kisses, “Stop saying –“ Another kiss to take Suga’s breath away in the best way possible, “Clichéd things.” More kisses and Suga almost forgot the train of thought. “Or I’ll push – push you off th – the bed.”

Oikawa chuckled again and he moved to kiss down Suga’s chin and neck. He seemed to pay particular attention to that one spot he must’ve memorized the very first time his lips had traveled over it on Suga’s neck, the way he did that had Suga worry that he’d have to wear a turtleneck or a scarf to cover the mark.

“Pants off too,” Suga reminded Oikawa. He had already assisted Oikawa by opening the button and pulling the fly down. “Remember socks too.”

Oikawa burst into a silent laughter as he moved so he could maneuver his pants off as quickly as possible. “Stop making me laugh,” he laughed as he kicked his pants off. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“I’d personally preferred for things to be hard,” Suga mused, his voice too airy and light for him to appear as unaffected as he tried to.

Oikawa kept silently laughing as he threw his socks off. “I should stop wearing socks altogether.”

“But then your toes would freeze,” Suga reminded with a smile, as he found Oikawa’s struggles to remove his clothing terribly amusing.

“Stop talking about my toes.” Oikawa said as he was free from everything but his underwear, and he had seemed to decide to keep it on for a while longer as he was back hovering over Suga.

“Toes aren’t sexy for you?” Suga asked, tilting his head with his question. He placed his hands behind Oikawa’s neck and over his shoulder blade.

“Not really,” Oikawa smiled with his answer, and Suga’s eyes followed how his tongue licked his lips.

“Good to know, then I don’t need to start sucking on them.”

Oikawa dropped his head down, his forehead on Suga’s chest as another fit of laughter took him over. “Why am I laughing?” he seemed to ask from no one. “That isn’t even funny,” he laughed as he kept speaking to himself.

“Kiss me,” Suga asked softly then, pulling Oikawa’s head back up to seal their lips together.

“There’s an imbalance now.” Oikawa’s lips brushed on Suga’s as he spoke.

“How so?” Suga furrowed his eyebrows but didn’t open his eyes. He wasn’t following on what Oikawa meant and couldn’t understand what he might’ve meant.

“You’re still dressed and I’m not.” Oikawa reinforced his statement by moving his hands under shirt.

Suga grinned, but bit it back. “You can change that by taking my clothes off.” He opened his eyes to look into Oikawa’s.

“Oh, I can, can I?” Oikawa asked with a cocked eyebrow as he thumbed Suga’s nipple, causing him to arch a little off of the bed with a breathless “Tooru”.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga always lost himself in the sex with Oikawa. He had no concept of time or how it was passing, and he had to really think to remind himself where he was after he’d come down from another mind-blowing orgasm. Sometimes, he could hardly believe that he had just had sex with _Oikawa Tooru,_  one of the most handsome men he had met, the possessor of one of the sexiest minds he had ever encountered, one of the most seductive voices he had ever heard when Oikawa whispered sweet nothings and the dirtiest words into his ear.

As with so many everyday things, every time they had sex, Oikawa proved that he didn’t do anything halfway.

Ever since the first time they had sex, Suga’s nerves about Oikawa and having sex with him – which had surprised himself as well, he wasn’t usually nervous about sex – had dissipated. It hadn’t been long since then, but even in the short amount of time they had grown accustomed to each other’s bodies and learnt about them. They didn’t fumble anymore, they had become sure with their touches, most likely because they knew what they liked and wanted and weren’t shy about expressing it. So, they learnt what they liked, how they liked it, and what to do to drive the other one crazy. And it was always _so good._

Even now, with every kiss, touch, gasp, moan, grind, groan, sigh, thrust and breath, the pleasurable fire built in Suga’s lower region until he just. Had. To. Come. with a shout of Oikawa’s name.

Even just a hand job wasn’t _just a hand job._ Not with Oikawa holding both of them in his big hand, slender fingers wrapped around them. Suga couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t that moment, all of his senses filled with Oikawa, the way he smelled, tasted, looked, sounded and felt like. It was perfect, all-consuming, and afterwards, serenity.

“Icky,” Oikawa made a passing comment in a casual voice from beside Suga, holding his hand in the air above them to show the sticky mess covering it.

Suga snorted and grasped Oikawa’s wrist to move the hand away from his face. “At least we saved up on condoms this time.”

“Yeah, but is this worth it?” Oikawa moved his hand closer for Suga’s inspection again, Suga’s hold so loose on his wrist that he could still freely move his arm.

“I don’t know,” Suga thought out loud, looking at the hand and then moved his gaze to Oikawa’s eyes. “I think it’s pretty hot.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa met his gaze with a suggestively cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Suga affirmed, brought Oikawa’s hand to his mouth and licked on his index finger with a confirming hum.

“Okay, it’s pretty hot,” Oikawa admitted with a satisfied grin. “You’re pretty hot too.”

Suga chuckled weakly, dropping Oikawa’s hand between their bodies. “Stop flirting with me. I can hardly move as it is.” He groaned as he sat up, weakly pushing himself up with his hands. “And I have plans with Akaashi.” With great effort he was able to move a little closer to the edge of the bed and slung his legs off of it.

“You can’t leave me alone with my clothing crisis.”

“It’s not a crisis.” Suga reached for his shirt, barely finding it from the floor, from the mess of the clothes Oikawa had thrown on the bed earlier and Suga had then folded into a pile, a pile that had been pushed off of the bed in middle of their heated kisses and fervent touches. “You can put any shirt on and it’ll be perfect.”

“I haven’t even decided on what pants to put on.”

Suga halted as he pulled the hem of his shirt down. He wasn’t sure if he could take another hour of Oikawa trying on pants as well. Well, maybe he could, but his penis definitely couldn’t survive another round of watching half-naked Oikawa with his lean muscles and flawless form parade in front of him, taking off pair after pair of pants.

“Please wear pants when my mom arrives,” Suga pleaded softly.

“Oh, so now you care what I wear,” Oikawa sounded a little affronted that only now Suga would give his input on his clothes.

Suga didn’t show any reaction to what Oikawa said, he didn’t want to accidentally end up watching another hour long strip tease. “I need to shower,” he sighed as he tousled his hair as he stood up, giving a cursory glance at the floor if he could spot his own pants somewhere there, and gave up when he couldn’t settling on just wearing his underwear with the shirt. It was a short walk to the bathroom anyway.

“Want to shower together?”

“For the last time, Tooru,” Suga glanced over his shoulder at Oikawa, who was reclining back on the bed with his hands stacked under his head, looking smug and extremely pleased with himself. “You can barely fit one person into the shower. How are you going to fit two?”

“We can stand _really_ close to each other.”

Suga let out a breathless laugh. “Now who’s the thirsty one?”

“You can thank your shameless and loud moans playing on a repeat in my head for that. It’s the new summer hit, the sexy remix of gasps saying ‘Tooru’.”

Suga caught the hint of sarcasm in Oikawa’s tone, and decided to smile as pleasantly as he could. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“You’re still welcome,” he reiterated as he put one knee back on the bed and his hands on either side of Oikawa’s head. “Try to put some clothes on soon. I’m going to leave the door unlocked when I leave.” He bent down to give a quick kiss on Oikawa’s lips.

But Oikawa seemed to have other plans as he placed his hand behind Suga’s neck to keep him close, to keep kissing him, again and again, each kiss sweeter than the one before.  

“Don’t go,” Oikawa whispered into one of those kisses, not really an ask or a plea, but his voice still imploring.

“Love you,” Suga whispered back and gave in for another kiss. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised, going for a last quick kiss and straightened away before Oikawa and his lips could convince him to blow of his plans with Akaashi and stay.

“You better,” Oikawa threatened lightheartedly, a smile in his voice. “Or I’m not going to wear pants when your mom comes and you get to explain to her why.”

“I think I’ll call your bluff on that,” Suga said with ease as he left Oikawa’s room, leaving him alone and naked on the bed.

“You sure you want to risk it?” Oikawa shouted after him, and all Suga could do was laugh as he walked to the bathroom to take a quick shower so he didn’t smell like sex when he’d meet with Akaashi. He would _love_ to see his mother’s reaction to pantsless Oikawa, and Oikawa’s face when she’d see him without his pants.

He wondered who would be more embarrassed, his mother or Oikawa?

“I’ll pay someone to kidnap Kumamon again if you don’t help me.”

Oikawa’s threat stopped Suga in his tracks and he walked back to the bedroom, only for a moment to scold Oikawa for ever threatening with something like that.

“Don’t you dare to do anything that could hurt Kumamon. We just got it back.” Suga stood firmly with his hands on his hips. “It’s still traumatized and goes to weekly counseling with Akaashi.”

Oikawa smirked, looking too satisfied with himself. “Then help me pick out an outfit.”

“Promise to wear what I pick for you?”

“No. Help me by saying what works and what doesn’t.”

“You’re on your own then.” Suga was off again, on his way to take the shower.

“Say goodbye to Kumamon then!”

 

 

...

 

 

It had been a week ago, a day here or there, when Oikawa had woken up in middle of the night to drink some water. He had stumbled in the darkness down the hallway, towards the kitchen, and stopped in shock when he noticed a big shapeless blob in middle of the dark living room, hidden in the shadows.

He’d fumbled a little as his hand shook – he wasn’t afraid, just shaken from seeing something unexpected in middle of the night, he wasn’t afraid, he wasn’t – as he tried to find the light switch.

He had to blink multiple times against the harsh light, first thinking he had imagined it when his eyes were trying to adjust to the sudden brightness, but there it was.

Kumamon

Back where he had last seen it, at the end of their couch, looking towards the tv, scaring anyone coming from the front door if they didn’t know to expect it.

“Suga-chan!” he’d called in what was becoming panic. When he didn’t hear a response, he shouted again, a little louder, the panic in his voice easier to detect. He must’ve been hyperaware to everything, for he heard the faint rustle of the sheets, the soft footfalls of Suga as he walked across the bedroom.

“What is it?” Suga whispered sleepily when he got to the hallway.

Oikawa was too shocked to look anywhere else but at Kumamon, but reached his hand behind him.

Suga took it almost as soon as Oikawa had extended it out towards him, and Oikawa pulled him next to him, pointing towards Kumamon with his other hand.

Suga’s reaction was different from his – running straight to it with an excited shriek of ‘Kumamon!’ and hugging it with so much force he tackled it to the ground. “I missed you! I missed you, I missed you, I missed you,” Suga chanted happily, burying his face to the side of Kumamon’s head.

All the while, Oikawa still stood stock-still by the hallway entrance. “Where did it come from?” he asked in awe, slowly coming back to his senses as he looked around, in case the kidnapper had decided to linger around, belatedly thinking that they might not be alone.

“I don’t care,” Suga sobbed into the softness of Kumamon, wrapped tightly around it on the floor. “I’m just glad he’s back.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Did you have sex?”

Suga looked up to Akaashi with big eyes, startled from his thoughts on the mystery reappearance of Kumamon. “What?”

“You look like sex,” Akaashi commented nonchalantly, walking from the little kitchen area with two glasses of wine. “Did you just have sex?” He offered one of the glasses to Suga, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

“What an odd thing to comment on,” Suga mused, looking at the glass in his hand instead of at Akaashi, who he could feel was studying him.

“Is Oikawa better than me?” Akaashi asked with a smirk so small you’d have to really know Akaashi to be able to tell he was smirking, to hear it in his voice more than to see it on his face.

Suga pressed his lips tight together as he thought about his answer – was Oikawa better than Akaashi?

“Bokuto is better than you,” Akaashi said casually to his glass before he drank from it.

Suga burst into a light laughter, and nodded with his chin cradled in his hand. “Tooru is better than you,” he admitted, feeling happy and warm thinking about his boyfriend. “More compatible.”

Akaashi nodded, probably fully understanding what he meant, and then shook his head a little. “I can’t believe you went through weeks of having sex with Oikawa and not being able to talk about it to anyone.”

“It was torture,” Suga admitted with an exhale. “But I still can’t believe you could tell that I’d been fucked the next day.”

Akaashi returned Suga’s gaze as if he could see right through him.

 

 

_“You’ve had sex.”_

_Suga stopped mid-step, right after he had passed by Akaashi and slowly turned to look at him, slightly with panic because how could Akaashi tell, and slightly perplexed that Akaashi had been able to tell._

_“You’re kidding, right?” Suga checked, meeting Akaashi’s inquisitive and somehow simultaneously knowing eyes._

_“No,” Akaashi answered easily, looking Suga up and down slowly. “You’ve definitely had sex.”_

_Suga glanced to the living room, to Bokuto monkeying around with Hinata, to Hanamaki and Matsukawa cheering them on, to Oikawa watching them like he thought they were all a bit daft, to make sure they hadn’t heard what Akaashi had said. When he looked back to Akaashi, he burst into a bout of airy laughter, hoping it sounded more as if he found Akaashi’s remark ridiculous than that he was nervous about his and Oikawa’s secret coming out._

 

“How could you tell?” Suga inquired now, curious of what in him had alerted Akaashi to notice it.

“You’d been without sex for months,” Akaashi pointed out in a kind voice. “I’m more surprised that no one else noticed.”

“But how?”

“You had this aura of tenseness around you, and suddenly it was just gone. Like someone had taken the stick out of your ass and put something else in there.”

Suga couldn’t help but grin, amused by Akaashi’s deadpan delivery.

“I didn’t think it was with Oikawa. I assumed so first, but since you two weren’t acting differently around each other I concluded it wasn’t with him.”

“It was with him,” Suga admitted with a soft smile, thinking back to how ultimately good he had felt after his first time with Oikawa. “But if you thought that it wasn’t with Oikawa, how were you still sure that I’d had sex?”

“You could’ve gone out and met someone, just for the night.”

It made sense, Suga had to admit, except he hated one night stands when he was one of the participants in it. He hated how quickly they were over, which of course was their point.

“You and Oikawa had been dancing around each other for so long, and you had been without dick for even longer, we were practically waiting to find you humping on telephone poles.”

Suga covered his mouth with his hand not to laugh too loudly, not to spill the wine he had just drunk.

“I’m glad that didn’t happen.” Akaashi tipped his wine glass, watched the liquid inside it move with the motion with uninterested and hooded eyes, unbothered by Suga’s amused reaction.

Suga admitted being equally as glad about it, for humping telephones was quite high on his list of embarrassing things he never wanted to do.

“Is anything different now with you and Oikawa?”

“What do you mean?”

“Now that everyone knows that you two are dating, has it changed anything?”

Suga shook his head slowly, tilting the glass in his hand around to swirl the wine inside it. “Not really.”

“Yeah? How did Iwaizumi and Sawamura take the news?”

“Oh?” Suga looked up to Akaashi. “You’ve heard.”

The corners of Akaashi’s lips quirked up a little. “A little bit.”

Suga sighed, tilting his head a little against his shoulder as he thought back to what he’d dubbed ‘war of friends pt.2’. “It could’ve been worse.”

Akaashi snickered lightly, just a breathless little hitch, and sipped his wine. “They could’ve killed it each other with the leeks, you’re right.”

Suga’s smile grew and turned amused.

 

 

 

...

 

 

“The food isn’t ready?” Oikawa asked, his eyebrows high with his incredulousness.

“This isn’t a restaurant,” Iwaizumi replied, disapproving of Oikawa’s assumption that they could just sit down to a ready table. “You get to help with the cooking.”

Oikawa sighed, letting go of his disappointment, when something in what Iwaizumi said made him cock his eyebrow. “Get to,” he asked with suspicion, “or have to?”

“Look at it whatever way you want, but you’re cooking,” Iwaizumi replied easily, seemingly accustomed to Oikawa’s ways.

Suga still found it all terribly amusing, and he kept silently laughing, his shoulders trembling with his suppressed giggles.

Daichi was looking on at the banter with a smile as well. “We can’t fit all of us into the kitchen, so we need to choose two to cook.”

“You can count me out,” Oikawa announced immediately and went to sit down on the couch, settling down like he had no intentions of getting up again.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi took a sharp breath and looked to Suga and Daichi, clapping his hands together. “Who wants to cook with Oikawa?”

A loud gasp, that they all ignored, emanated from the couch.

“I think you should,” Daichi said to Iwaizumi.

“You want to put me into a small space with Oikawa? With knives and other sharp objects?”

“You want to put _me_ in the kitchen with him?” Daichi turned the question around.

Iwaizumi looked to smug looking Oikawa, then to laughing Suga.

Daichi must’ve seen who Iwaizumi was looking at too. “You want to go to a small enclosed space with knives with Suga?” he inquired.

Suga was enjoying himself too much to rise to the light jab, and a second later he didn’t need to when Iwaizumi turned determinedly to Oikawa and tapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go cook.”

Oikawa whined like a child on the couch, tipping his head back against the back of the couch. All that was missing was a frustrated stomp on the floor.

“Come on,” Suga said with a soft laugh as he went to Oikawa and offered his hands out to help him off the couch. “Go make us something delicious,” he continued with an equally soft smile as Oikawa hauled his tallness off of the couch, and once he was standing, Suga tiptoed to give him a quick kiss.

“You have to stop doing that!” Oikawa exclaimed, sounding exasperated.

Suga giggled lightly as he let go of Oikawa’s hands and put his heels back to the floor.

“Wait,” Daichi said loudly, and looked shocked beyond belief. “What was that?” He was looking with bewilderment between Suga and Oikawa.

“I’m disappointed, Dai-chan,” Oikawa said with a smug undertone, smirking a little. “Everyone else got it a lot quicker than you did.”

“Are you two together?” Daichi looked to Suga for answers.

Suga nodded with a small, happy smile.

 

Serene silence settled in the room

 

It was broken after a moment by the quiet inhale of Iwaizumi. “You know you could do better, right?” he turned to Suga to ask with a placid expression.

Oikawa adapted an affronted expression, gasping with betrayal. “I think Suga-chan’s the lucky one here,” he said indignantly, crossing his arms petulantly.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” Iwaizumi replied casually and started towards the kitchen.

Suga laughed lightly at Oikawa’s expression. “Go help Hajime in the kitchen,” he urged him to go, patting him on the hip.

“Come on, Oiks,” Iwaizumi already called from the kitchen. “I’m not cooking alone.”

“Don’t call me ‘Oiks’,” Oikawa called back as he went. “That’s not my name and I never fancied it as a nickname.”

Suga looked at Daichi when they were left alone in the living room, and sat down with a small contented smile when he saw how happy Daichi looked despite of the shock.

“You call me ‘Iwa-chan’ all the time.”

“So?”

“Do you want me to call you Oi-chan, then?”

“Stop flirting with me.”

Suga and Daichi laughed at the banter that continued in the kitchen.

“Suga-chan will get jealous.”

“Flirt away, Hajime,” Suga called over, his laughter still bubbling out of him in airy delighted bursts. “That way I don’t have to when we get home when he’s burned all of his flirting energy.”

“Betrayal,” Oikawa peeked from the kitchen to point a hurt look at him.

Suga poked his tongue out as a payback, and stopped when Daichi came to sit on the couch with him.

“So,” Daichi dragged, eyebrows raised in question. “How long has this been going on?” He glanced meaningfully towards the kitchen before he brought his eyes back on Suga.

“Remember that day when I came over and forgave you for the bet?”

Daichi’s eyes widened with shock, or maybe incredulity. Or maybe he was letdown that Suga had kept such a huge change in his life from him for so long. “Since then?!” he exclaimed then, definitely incredulous. “Suga, that was _weeks_ ago.”

“I know,” Suga admitted with a shy smile, unable to look at Daichi due to his shame that he’d kept such a huge secret, such a big development in his life, from his best friend. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry we kept this so long from everyone, from you two,” he apologized, looking at Daichi with a plea in his eyes, reaching towards him. “We just didn’t want to tell anyone right after the fiasco of the bet.”

Daichi’s expression softened from hurt bafflement to a warm smile. “I think I can understand that.”

Suga was instantly relieved, believing that Daichi wasn’t mad at him. “I’m really happy that I could finally tell you. I’ve actually wanted to tell you for a long time now, but couldn’t.”

“Because I was fighting with Oikawa?” Daichi guessed correctly at once.

Suga nodded. “And because he was fighting with Hajime too.” He glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen, from where the faint sounds of dishes, kitchen utensils and cooking carried. “I knew Tooru would want to tell Hajime, but wouldn’t be able to when they were fighting. So it would’ve been unfair to tell you. And I had a feeling that you would disapprove of us dating if you were holding a grudge for Oikawa.”

“I wouldn’t have disapproved if I knew you were happy with him.” Daichi placed a warm hand on Suga’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad that you’re all friends again,” Suga sighed, tilting his head, smiling happily as he truly felt glad, practically over-joyous now that all of their friends knew that he and Oikawa were dating.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Daichi stated. “Although, I’m not sure how good friends I and Oikawa ever were,” he mused.

“I heard that!” Oikawa shouted indignantly from the kitchen, prompting Suga and Daichi to laugh again as they turned to look towards the kitchen at the same time.

“Ow! Stop hitting me! Suga-chan doesn’t like to see bruises on me that he didn’t make.” Oikawa’s words were aimed at Iwaizumi, and they carried too much amusement in them for him to be upset at all.

“Really?” Daichi looked seriously at Suga, and his brows were a little furrowed, as if he actually considered Oikawa’s words true.

Suga shrugged. “I actually don’t care,” he answered honestly.

“Okay, but,” Daichi started and paused to change the position he was sitting in from laidback to engaged and attentive. “Since you kept your relationship with Oikawa a secret for weeks, and no one knew, you must’ve been anxious to talk about the sex with someone.”

“You have no idea,” Suga answered gravely, widening his eyes.

Daichi chuckled good-naturedly. “How is it? How’s the sex? From the way you two kept dancing around each other I imagine you’ve been at each other non-stop every day.”

“Not really,” Suga mused, thinking back. Sure, ever since they started having sex they’d had it for almost every day, sometimes multiple times a day. But – “It took us a while to get to the sex,” he admitted.

“Don’t tell him that!” Oikawa interjected from the kitchen again, and Suga averted his eyes down and dug his chin closer to his chest to hide his smile.

“Stop throwing shrimps at me! I don’t want to smell like fish.”

Suga looked up, baffled, to Daichi who look equally stunned by Oikawa’s offended words.

“What are they doing in there?” Suga wondered aloud, unable to keep a smile from his face.

Daichi answered by shaking his head, looking just as amused but without a clue of what on earth was going on in the kitchen. “We should check on them before they accidentally kill each other.” He got up then, and Suga followed his example.

The kitchen looked like a warzone, a battlefield, a boxing ring with Oikawa in one corner armed with a large lid as his shield and Iwaizumi in the opposite corner with a can of beans that he was throwing at Oikawa one by one.

“Are you playing with the food?” Daichi asked loudly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Oikawa must’ve used the distraction to his advantage, with Iwaizumi’s attention on Daichi and Suga, as he grabbed leeks from the counter behind him and started to throw them at Iwaizumi like he was throwing knives at a target.

“Oikawa, stop that,” Daichi berated instantly and moved to stand in front of Iwaizumi to try and catch the thrown leeks.

“He started this,” Oikawa pointed his finger at Iwaizumi, lowering his shield and leaving himself defenseless.

It was Iwaizumi’s turn to reciprocate the thrown food and he started to chuck seaweed at Oikawa, who screamed in fright of the sliminess.

Suga was enjoying the chaos of thrown, and wasted, food too much to do anything else but laugh. “Stop,” he said ineffectively due to his non-stop laughter. “You’re ruining our dinner,” he barely managed to form the sentence, holding his arms over his stomach as he doubled over at the force of his uncontrollable laughter. “Tooru,” he paused to force an inhale, air into his lungs in middle of his laughter. “Tooru, you have – you have seaweed – seaweed in your – your hair.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Koushi,” Akaashi said softly, looking at him over the rim of the wine glass with calm and deep eyes, easy to sink into. “Are you happy?”

“I am,” Suga sincerely smiled with his answer.

“Are you really?”

“I’m living the life I want to. What’s not to be happy about?” Suga answered once again as happily as he could, letting the joy in his eyes shine. “Why are you asking?” he asked when he noticed how contemplating Akaashi looked. “Are you happy? It’s impossible to tell with you.”

“I’m happy, you don’t need to worry. I’m just worried about you,” Akaashi replied, somber. “You weren’t happy the past winter, since Terushima broke up with you. I never got the chance to ask you before.”

“I’m happy, Keiji. You don’t need to worry.” Suga reassured, smiling softly, Akaashi’s caring concern warming his heart. “Tooru makes me happy,” he added in a whisper, looking down as his smile turned shy.

He appreciated that Akaashi let him bask in the happiness for a while, and when his heart wasn’t threatening to burst from the adoration anymore, he braved to look up. “How’s your mom?”

Akaashi raised his eyebrows imperceptibly, as if he had been taken by surprise by Suga’s question. “She’s getting better, or so she says, but dad is still cautious.”

“It’s good that she’s getting better.”

“You’re right,” Akaashi nodded and reached for the wine bottle to fill his empty glass. “It’s good.”

Suga responded to Akaashi’s small curl of lips that conveyed hope with a small smile of his own. He really was relieved to hear that Akaashi’s mother would be getting better, at least hopefully. But he knew his smile had an underlining sadness. There always was when he was somehow reminded of his father.

“Let me know when you’re going to visit them,” Suga said to think of something else than his father. “I have something for them.”

He thought of the photo he had taken of Akaashi when the man had been contemplatively looking out the window with a smile, his chin resting against his knuckles, listening to what Bokuto was saying. It had been such a peaceful sight, a happy, content moment that Suga just had to take a photo, to immortalize the loveliness of the moment.

“Another photo?” Akaashi guessed. “They already have three, you have to stop giving them out for free.” He sounded a little disapproving, but Suga could hear how he was pleased as well.

“But they’re all of you.” Suga pointed out a very important part of why he’d happily given them to Akaashi’s parents. “I could never sell them to anyone.”

Akaashi fell silent, nothing unusual but there was a new kind of heaviness in it as he sipped his wine. “Thank you for thinking about them.”

Suga cocked his head curiously and folded his arms on the table in front of him. “Why wouldn’t I? They’re going through something really hard and taxing, you included. At times like that, it’s good to remember the good things, and you are a very good thing for them.” He frowned then, thinking back to what he had just said. “I think I just said ‘good’ about ten times there, making the word a little redundant.”

“It’s okay, Koushi,” Akaashi assured in his calm manner. “I understood what you meant. Thank you, I appreciate the thought.”

Suga nodded with determination, believing Akaashi and that he had made sense.

“I’m sorry I never introduced you to them.”

Suga frowned at Akaashi’s words, until he continued.

“Not until later, when we were only friends.”

Suga’s face opened with comprehension, remembering how lovely it had been to meet Akaashi’s parents that one time they had come to visit Akaashi, years after they had broken up.

“I never minded,” he said with sincerity. “You don’t need to apologize. I’ve never met any of my boyfriends’ parents.”

Akaashi’s eyes opened wide, a side effect of his drinking meant that he was a lot less inhibited and a lot more open about his reactions and feelings. “Tell me you’re kidding. Please say it’s not true. I can’t tell.”

“I’m not,” Suga said with a small smile and he looked down into the depths of what was left in his wine glass. He was a little saddened by the fact that he’d never met his possible future in-laws, but in retrospect, after the break ups, maybe it just was a good thing. Less people to disappoint when he’d never met them.

Akaashi’s features returned to his usual nonplussed expression, his eyes deceptively sharp. “And now you’re with Oikawa and there’s a real chance that you’re never going to meet his parents either.”

Suga hummed shortly and downed the last of the wine in his glass. “You know, all this somberness is a real antidote on the alcohol.”

Akaashi chuckled lightly, just short and soft gusts of air escaping his nose, as he poured more wine for Suga. “You’re not the usual happy bubbly version of yourself that you usually are when you’ve been drinking.” He paused with a frown, the wine bottle halfway tipped in the air. “That didn’t make sense.” He then shook his head a little, as if to clear it as he put the bottle down on the table. “What I meant to say, was for you to drink more. I asked you to come over to take my thoughts away from my thesis for a moment.” He sighed and folded his arms on the table as well, mirroring Suga’s position quite accurately across the small coffee table that was littered with magazines.

“What’s wrong with your thesis?” Suga asked as he took cue of Akaashi’s suggestion to drink more and did just that.

“Nothing is wrong with it,” Akaashi replied. “But I’ve encountered a problem where I feel like I can’t step away from it and I feel like I need to in order to finish it.”

Suga blinked a couple of times to process Akaashi’s words, the alcohol in his system affecting him and turning his brain from ‘somber’ setting to ‘happy’. “How long is it? Your thesis? Are you almost done with it?”

“It’s about two hundred pages,” Akaashi said as if he was thinking back to it, counting every page in his head.

“And it’s not ready yet?” Suga was flabbergasted. No wonder Akaashi felt the need to step away from it. It must’ve been an arduous task to keep it all straight and in order in his head.

“How long is Oikawa’s?”

“Two hundred and seventy three pages,” Suga answered, the number at ready at the forefront of his mind, like every piece of information he had of Oikawa. “You two are crazy.” He shook his head with disbelief. “I can’t believe I’ve actually voluntarily slept with and dated both of you.”

“You find intelligence sexy,” Akaashi stated as an explanation for Suga’s motives, raising his glass a little as if he was saluting to it.

Suga chuckled, clinking his glass against Akaashi’s. “Who doesn’t?” he asked, and greedily drunk to it. He smacked his lips together when he put his glass down, turning it a little on the table with his fingers on the stem. “How come you’re always drinking wine? I never see you drink anything else?”

“I drink water. And tea. Sometimes coffee.”

“No, I mean,” Suga chuckled for a short moment and rested his cheek on his hand as he continued with an amused smile. “Anything else with alcohol than wine.”

“Oh,” Akaashi understood and then hummed, looking away from Suga and then back when he answered. “I just like it.”

“Like you like to drink often?” Suga asked with a smile, swirling the purple liquid inside the glass by tipping it round and round and round, fascinated by the way the wine seemed to cling to the glass.

“I’m just practicing for my career.”

Akaashi’s answer made Suga look at him from under his brows.

“I’m pretty sure I need to have a glass of wine every night after listening to people talk about their problems.” Akaashi spoke dead-seriously, but shrugged then, such a small movement of his shoulders it was barely noticeable. “I don’t know,” he mused. “I just like the taste, I guess. And I don’t drink to get drunk.”

Suga giggled softly and sipped his wine. He wasn’t used to the taste but it wasn’t bad either, he mused as he licked his bottom lip.

“Do you happen to know who has the blackmail material of me singing at Noya’s party?” Akaashi seamlessly jumped onto another topic, carried on talking like he had before, as if the subject hadn’t been changed at all.

“Everyone,” Suga deadpanned.

Akaashi sighed and emptied his third glass in one long drink. “Can you help me get rid of it all?” he asked as he refilled his glass.

“Like the last time?” Suga arched his eyebrow as he straightened his legs under the coffee table, leaning back to his free hand while the other one held the glass. “Of course. Who do we start with?”

“Kou,” Akaashi answered, using the short and sweet nickname for Bokuto, said with annoyance but with adoration underlining it. “He has been peculiar about his phone, sleeping with it in his hand.”

“That must be a hindrance on your sex life.”

“It really is,” Akaashi nodded along with a grave impression. “And then Kuroo. I think we should try to tackle the hardest ones first.”

“Hmm,” Suga wondered if Kuroo and Bokuto were the hardest ones to get the video of Akaashi’s singing from. He had a feeling Oikawa would be much harder to persuade or trick. But he agreed to Akaashi’s plan. They had made an agreement long ago, that if anyone had any video or photo material of them doing something embarrassing, they would help each other out and get rid of all the evidence. The deal had been struck when Akaashi had forgotten himself and gotten lost in a song at a karaoke room. It had been an once in a lifetime experience for Suga to witness Akaashi sing the ballad with such abandon and heart, with so much soul in it, and he had known that nothing that Akaashi would do in future would top it, or even compare.

“There are new people in our circle now who might have the video as well,” Suga voiced his thoughts. “Like Makki and Mattsun. And Tooru.”

“When have you ever failed to sweet talk anyone to do something for you?” Akaashi lifted his eyebrow with his question that really didn’t need an answer. It was given, obvious.

Suga had never failed.

He took a deep breath, and sipped his wine before he put the glass on the table and fell to lie on his back.

“You know what one of the great mysteries of life is?” Akaashi asked from the other side of the table, invisible from Suga’s line of sight behind the low table.

“How is it possible that Boo from Monsters Inc is about twenty years old now?” Suga guessed, staring at the ceiling, looking at how it spun slowly.

“No, that’s not a mystery,” Akaashi replied, and Suga heard the soft clink of a glass placed on the table.

“What is the mystery then?”

“How did they get King Kong through the streets of New York to the theatre?”

Suga thought about it for a moment, and noticed the Blu-Ray case of King Kong next to the tv. “That’s a great question.”

“See? A mystery.”

Suga hummed, and sighed, feeling happier and warmer than usual thanks to the alcohol coursing inside him. “Keiji.”

“Koushi?”

“I think I’m drunk.” Suga giggled after his statement.

Akaashi joined his giggles, hiccupping a little with his lovely light laughter. “You were drunk from the first sip.”

“I can’t be drunk,” Suga whined softly as he sat up. “Tooru and I have plans with Daichi and Hajime. I can’t feel like I’m a carousel when I meet them.”

Akaashi laughed again, just little breathy sounds leaving him. “What kind of plans?”

“Just eating, hanging, the usual.” He sighed, took a look around him.

“Koushi?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you for taking my mind off my thesis,” Akaashi said with gratefulness dripping from his tone.

“If you’re thanking me about it, you’re still thinking about it, so I haven’t really helped yet,” Suga said and smiled softly at Akaashi.

“Thank you for calling me Keiji,” Akaashi said then, a soft whisper traveling slowly in the air. “It’s been a while since the last time you called me by my name.”

“Four years,” Suga provided the length of the time that had passed since the last time he’d called Akaashi ‘Keiji’.

Akaashi narrowed his eyes a fraction, as if he was thinking about something. “That means we’ve known each other for five years.”

“Mm-hm,” Suga confirmed and raised his glass into the air. “Here’s to five years of friendship,” he said with a wide smile, and Akaashi clinked their glasses together.

“That means my four year anniversary with Bokuto is coming soon.”

“In July,” Suga nodded as he sipped his wine, feeling grateful that he and Akaashi had succeeded in remaining friends after everything that had happened, and happy that Akaashi and Bokuto were happy with each other. He was extremely happy for all of his friends, the happiness overfilling his heart to the point of tears forming in his eyes.

Yes, he was happy, and it wasn’t just because of the wine.

 

 

...

 

 

It was getting late, and Oikawa glanced at the clock on Suga’s bedside table. Suga had said that he’d be back soon, but he had been gone for hours, and Oikawa missed him, his presence and smile and wit.

When he heard the front door, he visibly perked up. _Suga must be home,_ he thought with a grin, throwing out the idea that it could be anyone else as well from his head, and took off towards the common area, better known as the kitchen, dining room and living room for everyone who lived in the building.

Suga was sprawled on the new couch, but he sat up when Oikawa sauntered into the living room with a grin.

“Look what I found,” Oikawa announced and pointed to his head, to Totoro swaying on top of it. The idea to put the horrendous thing, also probably called a hat in some part of the world, on his head had surfaced out of nowhere with neon words blinking in his mind telling him it was a good idea when he’d found it.

Suga looked up and a smile began to grow on his lips. “What were you doing in my closet?”  

“I was looking for the clothes you’ve stolen.” Oikawa sat down next to Suga, pressed against him, and gave him a sweet kiss of hello.

“I’ve never stolen a thing,” Suga replied absently as he looked up to the Totoro. “I told you before; they find their way in there on their own.”

“Uh-huh.” Oikawa observed Suga. “They just flew in there.”

“Of course.”

Oikawa took a better look at Suga then, leaning back from him a little, and studied him for a moment as Suga reached up with his hand to poke at the Totoro with fascination glinting in his eyes.

“Are you drunk?” Oikawa asked with a bemused smile when the puzzle pieces locked in as a form of an epiphany.

“Accidentally.” Suga answered with a free smile and dazed eyes, completely unbothered by everything and anything in the world.

Oikawa frowned and smiled at the same time. “How do you get accidentally drunk?”

“I drank wine with Akaashi.”

“You know you get drunk from just one sip of anything that has even a little bit of alcohol in it,” Oikawa  stated, chuckling to himself about Suga’s ‘accidental’ drunken state.

“Totally worth it.” Suga said as if he meant it one hundred and ten percent and climbed into Oikawa’s lap, straddling him and wrapping his arms around his neck to kiss him.

“You know, I’m liking the affection and attention,” Oikawa hummed into their kiss, his hands trailing down Suga’s sides to his hips and behind his back.

“It’s because I love you,” Suga hummed happily, leaning back a little to smile in his overjoyed state.

Oikawa returned his smile and leaned forward to peck Suga’s lips. “You are aware that we have plans with Iwa-chan and Dai-chan, right?” he checked with a cocked eyebrow when he broke away from the kiss.

“Yes.” Suga said with a heavy press on the word. “Promise me that you won’t use any produce or vegetable or fruit as a means to maim Iwaizumi.” He looked up to Oikawa with big eyes, silently pleading him. His hands were playing with the loose strands that had escaped Oikawa’s loosened bun under the hat.  

“Promise,” Oikawa grinned with his chin high. “There are always ladles.”

“No,” Suga said, the ‘o’s of the word long as if he was trying to tell with his voice that Oikawa’s answer was a wrong one, as if he was talking to a child and teaching them what was wrong. “Promise me you won’t hurt Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa took a deep breath, thinking about it with a smile and, “Nope.” He grinned again at Suga as he lifted him from his lap to get up and started to walk away.

“Promise me, Oikawa,” Suga said after him, quite sternly.

“Nope,” Oikawa answered automatically, still happily grinning. He didn’t actually plan on hurting Iwaizumi in anyway, nor did he even want to hurt him. But it was fun to tease Suga. He realized a little belatedly what Suga had called him, and he stopped mid-step and turned to look at him. “You just called me Oikawa.”

“Promise me.” Suga was looking at him over the back of the couch, his arms hanging over it, his tone demanding as he disregarded what Oikawa had just said.

“No,” Oikawa answered simply, his grin gone on the outside but not on the inside. He turned away then and continued on his way.

“Tooru.” Suga said after him, serious and imploring.

“Okay.” Oikawa replied easily, flashed a grin at Suga over his shoulder, and disappeared down the hallway to replace the Totoro hat where he had found it.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suga and Oikawa don’t know who took Kumamon, but I do~  
> (It might be revealed later on, or the kidnapper might remain a mystery forever, I might be persuaded to go either way...) 
> 
> The single's party that turned less of a single's party and more an unsupervised birthday party to five and six year olds was only written because I wanted to trash the couch because i wrote the Ikea scene MONTHS ago and now finally found a place to put it in  
> *whew* finally *does a little happy dance wiggling in my chair*
> 
> btw, is anyone else a little bit scared of suga? 
> 
> I didn't mean to make him so weird, it's just happened. It was an accident! I promise I didn't mean to do it! *said like a six year old who broke a vase - and might thus be responsible for starting the mess of a party - with their slingshot that they're hiding behind their back* 
> 
> Anyhoo, hope I haven't completely turned you off of the story because I've let my own weirdness slip in. Won't happen again :) *fingers crossed behind my back*
> 
> to be continued:  
> \- catch up with the other pairings


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy anniversary! 
> 
> This is thoroughly and compeletely unedited and unproofread. I'm still going to unapologetically update with it.  
> I literally just sat down, realized what date it is, opened a word document on my overheated laptop, wrote to my heart's content, and voilá, here you have what I accomplished in approximately ten hours.  
> This chapter wasn't meant to be this, but now it is this. 
> 
> By the way, guess who's horny? Everyone in this story. So, a forewarning for some mild smut and dirty talk because I have no filters anymore.  
> Most of the scenes fit into some time before everyone found out about Suga and Oikawa. And the chapter mainly focuses on the side pairings, so if you're only interested in OiSuga, scroll down to the very end, to the last scene. 
> 
> There's a theme happening throughout the chapter, let me know (or don't) if you caught it before the last sentence.

 

 

Nishinoya eyed the remote longingly, and sighed when he realized he’d have to move to reach it. Maybe, if he was taller, like Oikawa or Kuroo, or like, sigh, Asahi, he could’ve reached it. But the fact remained that he was woefully short, something he’d be happy to deny with vehemence if someone actually dared to call him that. Not that he usually let his ‘shortcomings’ keep him from achieving the greatest the world had to offer.

With a third sigh in the span of thirty or so seconds, not that he counted but sounded about the right, he leaned across the expanse of the couch, and grabbed the remote, to turn the tv on. But, after mindless channel flipping, he couldn’t find anything that he would’ve even considered to watch in his bored state, he turned the tv off, and let the remote fall next to him on the couch, to be forgotten there until it was deemed useful again.

He’d gotten home from work maybe ten minutes ago, once again impossible to tell without checking the clock but it felt like ten minutes to him, and after a glance at the time on his cell phone to find out it had been eleven minutes ago, and he had nothing to do.

Tanaka was still at work, temping at another run of the mill office, place where he had sworn he’d never work fulltime or stay longer than a month at. He’d been there for five months now. Nishinoya was sure, if Tanaka was offered a permanent position at the office after his temping residency ended, he’d take it without a second thought. Well, maybe a thought and a wild night out to drink to forget how much he hated that boring job, but in the end, he’d still accept it. It was a monthly paycheck after all. And who hated getting paid for a mundane work where they’d get to sit in front of a computer monitor, make copies on a shitty copy machine, and run meaningless errands to the higher ups like fetching coffee that basically anyone could do? It wasn’t saving the world or rescuing people from burning buildings or talking them down from a ledge, but it was a paycheck.

Nishinoya would hate such boredom, such a dull job, with all his soul and everything else he might have to give. He wasn’t one to be tamed to sit at a desk to be at anyone’s beck and call. He hadn’t thought that Tanaka was either, but his roommate seemed oddly comfortable in his position at the office. Maybe it was because of the people he worked with. After all, he did come home every day with another funny incident that had happened, or something funny someone had told.

At least at his place of work, at the flower shop that his aunt run and that he worked at with his cousin – yeah, let’s get those facts out there now since they hadn’t been mentioned earlier but are needed to know to make sense of the rest of the story – the days weren’t mundane. The work days were slow, there was no hustle and bustle unless someone had made a rush order for a wedding or another fancy function, and there was no thrill or a rush of adrenaline. But it still wasn’t dull, not in Nishinoya’s opinion. Even though at first glance work at a flower shop might seem uninspiring, it was everything but.

Every day was different, in one way or another. The flower arrangements he made were always different. _Every single one._ He made sure of that, took pride in the fact that he successfully make a different bouquet every time, even if the variations were small and invisible to an untrained eye.

And it was fun.

Every day he raced with his cousin who could bring out more flowers in the morning when they opened the shop, every day they competed who could make the most outrageous looking bouquet they were convinced no one would buy but that was always bought by the end of the day. Every day he got to see the wonderment in the customers’ eyes when they admired the vast assortment of different species they had. Every day he sold a bouquet of roses to someone, who no doubt was going to give it to their significant other, maybe to apologize for something they had done or forgotten, or to brighten their day. Every day, he went home with the knowledge that he had played a role in bringing a smile to someone’s face, he had been honored to be a part of bringing elation to someone’s life.

On some days, he’d drive to the plantation just outside of the city limits were his parents grew and cultivated some of the flowers they sold at the shop.

And on some days, at the end of the day, he’d make a small bouquet that he’d carry carefully with him on his way to home, as if it was the most precious thing in the world, and he’d give it to Asahi.

Those were his favorite days.

To see how Asahi’s eyes brightened when he’d see him standing at his door holding out the bouquet. To see his cheeks tint cutely with the softest of red he’d ever witnessed. To see Asahi smile all bashful and a little embarrassed, stutter a thank you as he accepted the flowers.

He loved courting Asahi so. Had loved it for months before they started to ‘date’ in secret from their friends, and he knew he would love to bring a bouquet of flowers to Asahi every day for the rest of his life.

But lately, he hadn’t brought any bouquets home with him.

Because he was disappointed, mad, letdown and frustrated.

All because Asahi still wanted to keep their relationship secret from everyone.

Nishinoya couldn’t understand why. He’d tried to, but had failed. Tanaka and Suga already knew about them. So, why couldn’t the rest of their friends know too? He already knew that some of them at the very least suspected that there was something going on between him and Asahi. And they already knew that they were gay. So, it wasn’t just the issue of coming out to them.

So, what gives?

Nishinoya bit his bottom lip with frustration, swallowing back another sigh.

Lately, instead of bringing the bouquets he had carefully and with the greatest consideration crafted, he had been sighing.

The party he had planned and thrown, and regrettably let get out of control, for Tanaka to find a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, had been a distraction. To not think about the miserable standstill that he was in with Asahi, he had busied himself with fixing Tanaka up with someone.

He truly, honestly and with the most grief, regretted how the party had turned. He hadn’t planned the disaster, he would never in his wildest dreams imagine that it would get so out of hand. He really, sincerely, was sorry for it. But he didn’t know how to express it when his own disappointment about him and Asahi was at the forefront of his mind, demanding focus and attention.

At least something good had come out of the party – Tanaka had scored a date. Sadly, it was at the expense of a kidnapped Kumamon, who Noya knew Suga cared for dearly.

He had apologized profusely – even though the disaster wasn’t his fault – and done his best after the party to clean up, clear out everything broken, scrubbed every surface and restocked what had gone missing in the kitchen. He had even offered to buy Suga and Oikawa a new couch, which the former had refused immediately. Maybe Suga thought that Nishinoya didn’t have the money to buy them a pristine new comfortable couch. Which, would be mostly true, it’d probably bleed him dry of his savings. And Suga was filthy rich, they all knew it but pretended not to, since it seemed to make him uncomfortable whenever someone made a passing remark of the money Suga made with his photos.

Although, speaking of Suga, Nishinoya was quite certain that the man had played a hand at Tanaka striking a mutual interest with the gentleman that had caught his eye. Suga had been smiling with too much of a happy glint in his eyes not to. If only Suga hadn’t left the party to fetch more beer from his and Tanaka’s fridge, maybe then the party hadn’t turned out so bad, maybe no one would’ve been able to kidnap Kumamon.

And Nishinoya missed that big lump of stuffing and soft felt. He had gotten used to the large unblinking eyes staring into his soul and seeing his darkest secrets that he’d hidden deep in his heart whenever he entered Suga and Oikawa’s apartment. He missed being able to hide behind it to jump out and scare the poor sucker who came in after him. He missed gently pushing it over to lay on its stomach and watch tv. He missed decorating it with leftover streamers with Hinata.

He had scoured earth and sky, called or texted everyone he knew at the party, but no one seemed to know what had happened to Kumamon, where it could’ve gone. It was as if the cute mascot had disappeared into thin air, like magic, just a couple of words of enchantment and puff, it was gone.

He had only lied about Komi taking the Kumamon because he’d wanted a popsicle and he knew what a treasure chest Suga’s freezer was for a popsicle-holic like him. He and Tanaka didn’t have popsicles in their freezer, it was too stuffed full with frozen pizzas and healthy smoothies Tanaka liked to make in his spare time to have at ready. He’d take one of the many smoothies from the freezer, put it into the fridge and the next day he’d take it with him in the morning for his commute to his boring job.

A rapt knock on the door brought Nishinoya from his rueful thoughts. He didn’t think much on who was at the door, the knowledge that it was one of his neighbors whispering it to him in his subconscious mind, and that was enough for him when he slouched across the living room to the door.

“Oh, hey Suga,” he greeted carefully when he opened the door. “What’s up?” he asked then, fighting a grin onto his face.

Suga’s kind expression morphed into distress at the sight of the grin. “What’s wrong?” he asked almost instantly.

Nishinoya sighed, his chest rising and falling in one big motion and he stepped to the side to let Suga enter.

“You know that Komi doesn’t have Kumamon, don’t you?” he asked then, closing the door after Suga while he toed his shoes off.

“I know,” Suga confirmed patiently, still studying Nishinoya with worry. “He’s too short to be able to carry Kumamon out of the apartment, unless he had help. But what’s going on with you? It’s not like you to lie, no matter how badly you wanted to wolf down five popsicles.”

“Six,” Nishinoya corrected.

“Okay, six,” Suga nodded. “What’s up with you?”

The corners of Nishinoya’s lips curled up slightly at Suga’s concern, thinking how fatherly Suga sometimes was, especially when he was worried about his friends. Nishinoya was absolutely certain that Suga cared more than he let on – he’d let them see some of the care, but not the full extent of it, hiding it behind his mischievous smiles and devilish ways.

“Maybe I just felt like eating my fill of popsicles. Maybe I was worried about Kumamon as well and wanted to deal with the worry by filling myself with popsicles.” Nishinoya listed bullshit excuses as he went back to the couch he had wrestled himself up from only a moment earlier and slumped back onto it in wishes that it could swallow him and his problems in whole. 

“Or,” Suga dragged the word as he made his way to the couch as well, but sat down much more gracefully and far more properly. “Maybe you had a fight with Asahi.”

Nishinoya looked at Suga in surprise. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he’s miserable,” Suga said softly, his imploring eyes kind and the tilt of his head curious without malicious intent.

Nishinoya wanted to curl onto the couch with his head in Suga’s lap so he could have a proper meltdown, but refrained from doing so. He was stronger than that, he was fine. They were fine, he and Asahi.

“He is?” He couldn’t help himself from checking, hoping that Asahi was just as miserable as he was, secretly wishing that maybe Asahi was sick and tired of their situation as well and would soon come around about revealing their ‘secret’ to everyone, to their friends.

Suga nodded. “Did you two have a fight?” he asked kindly again.

Nishinoya sighed for the umpteenth time that day, and who knew what the overall count of sighs would be if they counted the many sighs he’d exhaled when he thought about him and Asahi and how wretched he felt about it, them.

“No.”

“Something’s up, though,” Suga urged him to say more, the meaning behind his words like a soft caress, gentle tendrils of vines slithering into his heart to gouge out the sad secrets.

“We haven’t seen each other lately that much,” Nishinoya grumbled out, slouching even lower so his back was lying on the seat of the couch and his legs were stretched out as far as they went.

“On purpose?”

“Maybe,” Nishinoya mumbled, feeling more and more uncomfortable about Suga’s well-meant probing. He didn’t generally enjoy talking about the difficulties of his relationships, the most personal little tidbits he preferred to keep to himself.

So what if he skated over the things that needed talking about? It hadn’t hurt before.

“Why?”

“Why don’t you ask Asahi?” Nishinoya countered, faking the eagerness in a wan attempt to make Suga think it would be a good idea.

“I did,” Suga said patiently, probably knowing exactly what Nishinoya had tried. “He kept deflecting with stories and anecdotes about his students.”

“Oh,” Nishinoya breathed disappointedly.

Maybe Asahi wasn’t ready to tell anybody then. Would he ever be? Nishinoya wondered on that, the room falling to a calm silence without him noticing it. As he focused his unfocused eyes straight ahead on nothing, somewhere that might’ve been the corner of the wall and the ceiling if he had paid more attention, he missed the worried but understanding way Suga was looking at him.

“You two need to talk,” Suga said quietly, his words registering somewhere deep underneath Nishinoya’s subconsciousness, but his mind too preoccupied with his own thoughts to really hear them, yet.

 

 

 

...

 

 

Tanaka was surprised to say the least when he stepped inside Suga and Oikawa’s apartment, and he literally had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Shimizu-san!” He exclaimed once his vision was tingling at the edges, but the lovely vision still remained the same as he gazed at the goddess sitting by the kitchen island with someone. It was most probably Suga, but Tanaka was too busy admiring the most beautiful woman he had ever seen to pay proper attention, or to even acknowledge anyone else’s presence. “How, how are you?”

Shimizu smiled slightly and took a beat to look down before she lifted her eyes to Tanaka. “I’m well, thank you for asking.”

Tanaka blushed, and looked away shyly, his heart beating as if it was a pair of hummingbird’s wings trapped inside his chest. How could a smile he had seen so many times already cause such a reaction out of him every single time? Not that he minded. Whenever Shimizu smiled at him, he really truly felt alive like he never had before.

“I heard that you have a boyfriend now,” Shimizu commented in a quiet voice.

“Ye-yeah,” Tanaka stuttered, uncertain how to proceed. Should he say more about Ennoshita? Would Shimizu want to hear about it? Or should he talk about something else? “He’s not really my boyfriend yet,” he decided to say. It was the truth after all.

“Good for you,” Shimizu smiled pleasantly, still. “I’m happy for you.”

Tanaka’s chest buffed with the unforeseen boost to his self-esteem. Shimizu was happy for him. She was happy for him. She was... Happy for him. What did that mean? Why was she happy for him?

Tanaka’s brain started to think it through over and over again. If his brain was a computer, there would be a very distinct and loud mechanical whirring sound filling the room to let everyone in it to know that it was working hard on something.

He was actually so enthralled with his overworking brain and endless hypothesis on what Shimizu might have meant with her kind comment, that he missed how she said something to Suga and then got up. He only caught up with the movement, with the fact that time wasn’t standing still even though he was, when she was in front of him and then already passing by him.

He only acknowledged that something was happening, that she was leaving when his back straightened like a steel rod on instinct when she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, as if to pat it for a job well done when she passed by him.

 “I’ll see you later again, Suga,” Shimizu waved at him then, and left with her graceful steps barely audible, the sway of her flowy dress soft as if moved by the gentlest summer breeze.

“Bye,” Suga smiled after her, Tanaka’s senses coming back to life and to proper function just in time to –

“I love you!”

\- to embarrass himself in front of Shimizu, and he really wished that the closing door that he had heard had come before his outburst so she hadn’t heard him.

What he didn’t miss, as he slumped his upper body over the island – where Shimizu had just sat by at only a short moment ago and he swore he could still smell the gentlest, the lovelies whiffs of her perfume still lingering – his hands reaching beyond the other side, was Suga’s silent chuckles at his puppy love.

“She’s so beautiful,” Tanaka whispered reverently, in a useless attempt at defending himself, and he straightened from the island, dragging his hands down his face, only to slump back down dreamily.

“She is,” Suga agreed and rose from the chair next to him. “Do you want something to eat?” he offered kindly as he went to the tall cupboard. “I was thinking of making some ramen.”  

“I’m meeting Chikara later, I can wait until then,” Tanaka replied, speaking against the top of the island, his words muffled and mumbled.

He could feel Suga’s eyes on him though, and when he turned his head a little to the side to take a peak, he saw a soft smile on Suga’s face.

“How’s it going with him?”

“Oh!” Tanaka straightened from the island properly this time, casually leaning his elbows instead of his upper body onto the island. “Good, it’s going good.”

Suga eyed him curiously for a moment, probably trying to see beyond the words in a very Suga-like way. “What aren’t you saying?”

“What?” Tanaka was a tiny bit spooked, looking around in the kitchen, his eyes never really focusing on anything as he tried to figure out why Suga would ask that. “I’m not not saying anything. It’s going good.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Suga smiled warmly then, speaking honestly, then hesitated a little. “I’m actually glad you came.”

“Oh?” Tanaka gave him his full attention, leaning further on his elbows on the island.

“Yeah, what’s going on with Noya?”

Tanaka frowned, looked away and back to Suga with incomprehension twisting his expression. “What do you mean? He’s just Noya.”

Suga shook his head a little. “Something’s bothering him. He keeps lashing out, like a teenager, acting unusually carelessly.”

“I haven’t been home a lot lately, because of, well, Chikara. But I haven’t noticed anything.”

“Has he said anything about him and Asahi?”

Tanaka shook his head, his mouth pursed as he thought back. “No,” he elongated. “But maybe the fact that he hasn’t mentioned Asahi is a red flag too?”

“I need to talk to Asahi.” Suga decided, and went to fill a large pot with water. “By the way, why did you come? Did you need something?”

“It’s not like you to meddle into others’ relationships,” Tanaka said in a curious tone, not answering Suga’s question, his mind caught up on the curious little detail he noticed. “You never do it if you can avoid it.” He narrowed his eyes, following closely what Suga was doing as he placed the water filled pot on the stove, trying to figure out Suga in the same way the man had tried to figure him out earlier. “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” Suga laughed, the sound of it so carefree Tanaka was ready to believe him. Almost.

“Then, why did you set me up Chikara?”

“I didn’t set you up with him.”

“You kind of did,” Tanaka scrunched his face as he thought about it. “I mean, you invited him to the party, and then steered me to talk to him at the said party.”

“Maybe I was tired of watching you drool after Kiyoko,” Suga suggested, his voice still amused, but Tanaka was sure he was deflecting.

“But you never get involved with others relationships. Even when Daichi and Iwaizumi-san had a fight and one of them stayed here for a day or two, you never gave them any wise words or advice on how to get through the fight.”

“It wasn’t my place to,” Suga replied sagely, watching steadfastly at the pot, waiting for the water to boil. Which, of course never happened because a watched pot never boils. Because it has stage fright.  

“But now you’re about to find out what’s going on with Noya and Asahi? Do you not see how uncharacteristic that is for you?” Tanaka said, making his point with his tone and adding a quirked eyebrow on top of it. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” Suga looked up from the pot to Tanaka with the softest and disarming smiles Tanaka had ever seen. “I just really want them to be happy, that’s all.”

Tanaka didn’t reply, content on watching Suga and trying to silently figure him out to himself. He had a feeling that Suga wouldn’t spill what was going on with him anyway, no matter how many times he tried to ask.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Good morning.”

Hinata stirred at the whisper, curling closer to the source of warmth next to him, clutching the covers tighter around him. “What time is it?” he asked with his eyes closed, not ready to open them and accept waking up.

“Eight fifteen,” Kenma answered matter-of-factly, still in a whisper, shifting a little to accommodate Hinata clinging onto him. “Do you have work today?”

“Mm,” Hinata thought for a moment.” No.” Terushima had given him the day off when he’d found out about the graduation. “No, I have a day off.”

“Is there something you want to do today?” Kenma was gently running his fingers through his hair at the top of his head, the motion lulling Hinata back to sleep.

Hinata blinked his eyes open several times, adjusting to the dark of the morning, to the lack of light filtering through the blackout curtains, and to the brightness of Kenma’s phone screen. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, looking up at Kenma, who was steadfastly focusing on the game he was playing with one hand. “I’ll have to think about it.”

Kenma made a small sound of a hum, beat the level of the game, and locked his phone as he dropped his hand down onto his stomach. Hinata was already looking up to him, so their eyes met when Kenma turned his head to look at him.

“How are you feeling? Hungover?”

Hinata shook his head as best he could with it resting against Kenma’s shoulder, and moved his leg higher over Kenma’s and slinging his arm over Kenma’s waist. “I’m okay.”

“Did you have fun last night?” Kenma asked then, and Hinata was slightly reeling at the amount of questions Kenma was asking. Usually Kenma was tight-lipped in the mornings, and any concern would be expressed in gestures rather than words and all the questions would be left until a much later time of the day.

“Yeah,” Hinata still smiled excitedly, and he started to fiddle with the fabric of Kenma’s oversized t-shirt that the man always slept it. “You could’ve come with, you know.” His smile turned softer when their gazes met.

Kenma turned his gaze away first and lifted his phone up and unlocked it to continue his game, to move onto the next level. “I wanted to give you a fun night out with your friends,” he said in a quiet voice. “I didn’t want t cause you to think that we’d have to duck out of the partying early because of me.”

Hinata felt warm at the consideration. It wasn’t news that Kenma disliked parties, or going out with a rowdy bunch of students that had just graduated. There were times when he’d missed Kenma during the night, going from restaurant to a bar to another bar and then to sing karaoke. He would’ve liked for Kenma to be there, but he understood why his boyfriend had opted out.

Besides, this was better. Waking up next to his boyfriend, curling against him to feel warm was better than anything else they could’ve done last night if Kenma had come as well. If Kenma had gone out with their group, the man would be unable to get up before noon, and he wouldn’t be fully awake at all during the day, and then he’d go to sleep before it was seven o’clock.

This, with Kenma lying awake next to him on the bed was so much better, and Hinata smiled happily, sighing with content, as he snuggled closer to the warmth and shut his eyes. He had graduated, it was his day off, he deserved to sleep in.

An undeterminable time later, Hinata opened his eyes again. He had no way of telling that time had even passed by, for the room was still as dark as it had been, but now there wasn’t a warm body next to him.

He missed the warmth, missed Kenma, and sat up with the intention of going to find him. He had barely pushed the covers aside while blearily rubbing his eyes when the door to the bedroom opened, and Kenma walked backwards in. When he turned, after he had successfully entered past the door, Hinata noticed the small tray he was carrying.

He recognized it immediately – it was Suga’s. Maybe Kenma had gone over earlier to borrow it.

Kenma exhaled a quiet “oh” in surprise and stopped in his track when he noticed Hinata sitting up and about to get up. “I made you breakfast,” he said then, still quietly, looking down to the tray he was holding, as if he was a little embarrassed about it, so adorably shy that Hinata wanted to coo at him and cover him in small kisses.

“I hope you stayed away from the stove,” he ended up saying instead, pushing himself on the bed to lean back to the wall at the head of it, and crossing his legs in front of him and rubbing last of the sleep from his eyes.

“I only made cereal,” Kenma admitted as he continued on his way to the bed, and gently set tray down by Hinata’s legs. “I can do that much.”

Hinata yawned and smiled, happy as a clam, and noted the cup of tea. He cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head, knowing that Kenma would understand what he was curious about without saying a word.

“Suga made the tea.” Kenma assured, and sat on the bed facing Hinata, the tray between their crossed legs.

“Thank you for making me breakfast,” Hinata leaned away from the wall and took the bowl of cereal into his hands. “I love your cereal,” he praised Kenma’s efforts.

“It’s cereal,” Kenma stated then, blinking lazily at him. “It would taste the same if you had made it.”

“Nope,” Hinata happily stated, taking a spoonful and savoring the taste to comedic proportions, wiggling a little in place and delightedly humming. “It’s better when you’ve made it.”

Kenma smiled, or his lips curled up ever so slightly, but Hinata knew it was a smile, and he matched it as they shared a moment of soft eye contact. Kenma broke their mutual gaze as he looked down briefly, and when he looked up, he curled his fingers in a gesture for Hinata to come forward.

Which he did, leaned forward over the tray, balancing the bowl of cereal in his hand so it didn’t upturn and wet their bed, which almost happened when Kenma leaned forward as well and met him in the middle with a small kiss on his lips.

“Uwaah!” Hinata exclaimed when Kenma leaned back, looking down and away towards his own shoulder in embarrassment, his lips stretched to a shy smile.

Hinata hurriedly, but carefully, put the bowl down onto the tray and pushed the tray aside on the bed, got up on his knees to reach his hands behind Kenma’s neck, and leave small kisses all over Kenma’s face.

He felt Kenma’s body shudder with his silent, cute chuckles while he continued to kiss Kenma’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, his chin and of course his soft lips.

“You kissed me,” Hinata said between the small pecks he left adoringly on Kenma’s smiling lips. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for them to kiss, but Hinata still treasured every single kiss he received from Kenma, he could remember all of them in detail.

“I wanted to,” Kenma admitted in a soft, gentle voice and wrapped his arms around Hinata’s back when he started to lean back so they ended up lying down, Hinata on Kenma.

“Can I have another?” Hinata asked, eyes shining as he hopefully looked at Kenma, who instantly moved to grant his wish by lifting his head from the mattress for their lips to meet.

Hinata swooned a little, feeling happy and light. “Another?”

Once again, Kenma accommodated his wish, and Hinata followed the gentle brush of their lips by pressing his against Kenma’s just as softly.

“You’re so cute,” Hinata cooed when he noticed how Kenma’s cheeks were slightly tinted with red, and if there were more light in the room than what was seeping in through the open door, he knew that he could see how Kenma’s cheeks were _blazing,_ as they always were when Hinata called him cute.

“Thank you for making me breakfast,” he thanked then, and dropped his head down to the crook of Kenma’s neck and shoulder, for his neck hurt as he tried to look at Kenma in his position.

“You’re welcome,” Kenma replied and tightened his arms around Hinata.

He lifted his head up from Kenma’s neck, gave him one more kiss on his lips, and then dropped his head again.

“Your cereal is going to get soggy.”

“It’s okay,” Hinata mumbled against Kenma’s warm skin.

“Don’t let it go to waste,” Kenma stated then.

With an inhale, Hinata pushed himself from Kenma and sat down to pull the tray closer. “You’re the greatest,” he stated in turn, proudly grinning as he munched on the slightly soggy cereal, eyes shining as he looked at the silent and a little shyly smiling man next to him. “I love you.”

Kenma looked to him, first a little uncertainly, until his smile turned soft, his eyes fond. “Love you too,” he said in a low voice and coughed into his fist after, causing Hinata to laugh at how embarrassed Kenma always got when he said it, even though it had been three years since they’d first said it.  

“I love you!” Hinata crowed with delight, causing the apples of Kenma’s cheeks, partly hidden behind his open hair, to burn with brighter red.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Ah,” Kuroo sighed against Tsukishima’s neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t say that when you’re fucking me,” Tsukishima objected, too breathless for it to have any real meaning or bite. “It makes it sound like you’ve only missed fucking me.”

“Well,” Kuroo raised his head up, bracing his hands on Tsukishima’s hips more securely. “I’ve missed this too,” he admitted with a breathless laugh.

“Ugh,” Tsukishima let out, followed by a loud gasp. “Stop being so sappy. It’s disgusting.”

Kuroo tried not to laugh, for it messed up his rhythm, but he couldn’t help it. There just was something ridiculously amusing to him when Tsukishima tried to pretend like he wasn’t at all affected by his dick in his ass.

“You sound too articulate,” he commented then. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” he doubled his efforts, increasing the rhythm of his thrusts and snaked his arm around Tsukishima’s waist.

Tsukishima cursed and dropped his head between his shoulders when Kuroo’s hand grabbed his length and matched the pumps with the rhythm of his hips. “Shut up,” he gritted through tensed jaw so as not to let out too many gasps and moans of pleasure. He hated how good Kuroo was at this. It was not fair how well Kuroo could play his body into his hands and turn it into one overstrung nerve of ever-mounting pleasure.

“That’s much better,” Kuroo taunted, sounding a little winded with his efforts, sweat dripping slowly down his temple and wetting his hair there. “We’re celebrating me,” he stated then, managing the words out just and just, his mind clouding with desire. “I’m allowed to be sappy.”

As always, no matter how long they made love, or had sex, or blew each other’s brains off, it was over too soon. If Kuroo could, he’d pleasure Tsukishima to the end of the world.

And before long, even though it had been hours, Kuroo and Tsukishima were lying next to each other on the comfy bed, catching up their breath, trying to calm their wildly beating hearts, the sweat clinging onto their skin and causing the slightly damp and a little moist feeling adding to the unmistakable atmosphere of post-sex lingering in the room.

“You know I hate this soft shit,” Tsukishima grumbled without any heat in his words.

Kuroo chuckled next to him and rolled on his side, propping himself up on his elbow as he fondly gazed at his boyfriend. “You love it,” he stated with a gentle hand trailing down over Tsukishima bare chest. “Because you love me.”

Tsukishima scrunched his face in faux disgust – Kuroo could see the flash of a second of a smile before the repulsed expression – and scoffed. “Whatever.”

Kuroo chuckled under his breath and bent down to kiss Tsukishima’s lips; a tender, loving peck, one after another.

“I love you,” he whispered into the kisses.

“Ugh,” Tsukishima replied. “Can’t believe you’d choose to tell me that now.” He rolled his eyes.

Kuroo smirked, gave one more kiss on Tsukishima’s lips, and moved to his ear. “You love me too,” he whispered and nibbled lightly on his earlobe.

“No, I don’t,” Tsukishima denied, but his hands belied his words with the way they gently moved across Kuroo’s shoulders and wound his arms around them to keep his body close.

“Yes, you do,” Kuroo stated again confidently and he lifted his head up to look at Tsukishima. “I saw the way your eyes filled with tears when I told I got offered a position in the team. You were proud of me, you were happy for me.” He spoke softly, knowing in his heart that he was right, and encouraged by the knowledge to speak from the bottom of his heart, reciprocating the exact same feelings for Tsukishima.

Tsukishima opened his eyes to look at Kuroo, and turned his head away so he wouldn’t have to admit that Kuroo was right. He hated romance, and this was getting way too romantic. He hadn’t realized before that Kuroo seemed to have a romance kink. Not that he’d complain about it too loudly, only to protest to save his face. No one could ever know that he was soft for romance too. He had a reputation to upkeep.

“I see you got a new tv.”

Kuroo followed his line of sight by turning his head as well. “Yeah, Suga helped me out a bit,” he admitted, the gratefulness for his friend in his voice.

“You let him help you but not me?” Tsukishima turned his slightly disbelieving gaze back to Kuroo.

“It’s different.” Kuroo shook his head a little. “I don’t love him the way I love you.”

“Hmpf,” Tsukishima looked away briefly from Kuroo. “Stop being so sappy.”

Kuroo laughed, dropping his head to the crook of his neck and shoulder, the vibrations of his amusement traveling through his body to Tsukishima’s.

“Now, what do you want to drink before we go another round?”

“You want to have sex again?” Tsukishima obviously _tried_ to sound incredulous, but Kuroo recognized the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re leaving in six days for eight weeks. I want to imprint your asshole on my dick before that.”

“You’re disgusting.” Tsukishima commented blandly, without any meaning or feel in his words. “Water.”

With a satisfied, almost victorious smirk, Kuroo rolled off of the bed fluidly to fetch some water for both of them.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Suga?” Hanamaki asked when he opened the apartment door and saw the said man sitting on the couch, engaged in a heated race of Mario Kart with Matsukawa. This wasn’t what he had expected to see when he had dragged his tired feet home, the multiple conferences and presentations of the day taking a toll on him.

“Hey babe,” Matsukawa greeted quickly without looking away from the race, between throwing a banana and getting hit by one. “How was work?”

“Fine,” Hanamaki answered, closing the door slowly as he eyed the pair focused on getting to the finish line first. “What’s Suga doing here?” he asked then, unable to keep from asking any longer, slinging the bag off of his shoulder and dropping it to the floor by his feet. The folders and papers, his plans and laptop, pens and all the different shaped rulers shuffled inside.

“Oikawa banished him from their apartment,” Matsukawa grinned.

“I left voluntarily,” Suga corrected, and threw his arms in the air with a victorious cry when he crossed the finish line first. “Beat your ass!” he taunted at Matsukawa, who chuckled in response.

“Yeah, but I won the one before, so we’re even.”

“And I beat you in the one before that,” Suga pointed out, while Matsukawa was already picking a new course.

Hanamaki eyed them with a confused frown, his arms folded in front of his chest. His boyfriend hanging with Suga like this was new to him, and he couldn’t help but wonder how this had become a ‘thing’. “How long have you been playing?”

“Huh?” Matsukawa asked distractedly, looked at him from the tv when he must’ve registered the question. “Oh, I don’t know,” he checked his phone for the time. “A couple of hours,” he dropped the phone next to him on the couch.

“Already?” Suga asked, turning to look at Matsukawa, and let out short burst of laughter. “How is that possible? I might need a break.” He stretched his arms high above his head and arched his back a little with a gasp of a sigh. “Want to tag in?” he offered the controller towards Hanamaki.

Hanamaki smirked with pleasure and he accepted the controller from Suga as he went to sit between the two on the couch.

“Get ready to eat dust,” he boasted cockily to Matsukawa.

“Did you wash your hands?” Matsukawa leaned away from him with a dubious look as he eyed him.

Hanamaki smirked, twinkled his hands with a teasing laugh in front of Matsukawa’s face, leaning towards him.

“Ew,” Matsukawa made a disgusted face and weakly tried to bat the hands away without touching. “Get them away from me.”

“Germaphobe,” Hanamaki teased, but got up with a smile, dropping the controller on the couch, and headed towards the bathroom to wash up.

“I’m not a germaphobe,” Matsukawa protested after him. “I just don’t want us to catch anything.”

“Paranoid,” Hanamaki called over his shoulder with a laugh, but missed Matsukawa’s rebuttal when he closed the door after him.

He could still hear Matsukawa and Suga talk, quite animatedly too, in the living room, although all he heard were their voices but not the actual words. When he came back to the living room, and he wasn’t gone for more than a minute, Matsukawa and Suga were deep in a conversation, had probably picked up from where they had left off earlier in favor of the game, both faces etched in serious expressions.

“So,” Hanamaki started conversationally as he dragged his tired feet back to the couch and settled down once again between the two new ‘best friends’ and interrupting their conversation, picking up the controller before he crushed it between his ass and the couch. “Why did Oikawa banish you?”

“He didn’t banish me,” Suga answered with a smile, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. “But he was getting snippy at me and kindly suggested that I leave the apartment for a bit to give him a chance to concentrate.”

“He’s taking the studying too seriously,” Matsukawa commented.

“I find it admirable how dedicated he is to it,” Suga said, looking far away, his lips curling into a tender smile.

Hanamaki glanced at Matsukawa, who returned the look at the same time. “You’re so in love with him,” he chuckled under his breath.

“Hm?” Suga came back from his short reverie and looked at him in confusion for a moment, before his eyes twinkled. “Yeah,” he looked down to his lap. “I am,” he admitted softly.

“You ever going to tell him?” Hanamaki questioned with a curiously cocked eyebrow.

“All in due time,” Suga laughed. “Anyway, you were about to race. Now, who wants me to root for them to win?”

“Me of course,” Matsukawa replied without a beat. “It should be given.”

“Why?” Hanamaki acted offended. “Just because you’re suddenly best friends with him?”

“What do you mean suddenly?” Matsukawa asked with a funny expression, both umcomprehending and smug. “I’ve told you I’ve hung with Suga occasionally.”

“When?” Hanamaki really couldn’t remember ever hearing about this.

“Well, you might’ve been working on one of your models when I told you.”

“You have to stop telling me things when I’m working on them. You know I’m too concentrated to pay attention to anything else.”

“But I get away with so much when I tell you then,” Matsukawa was barely containing his laughter. “That’s how I told you I accidentally ruined your suede shoes and threw them away.”

“What?” Hanamaki practically screeched. “That was three years ago! And all this time I’ve thought that I’d never find out what happened to them. I’ve thought that I forgot them at the gym, even though I loved those shoes.”

“And I told you what happened, apologized for it,” Matsukawa spoke calmly, as if he was a doctor delivering news that were simultaneously good and bad. “It isn’t my fault you didn’t ‘hear’ me.”

“What other important things you’ve told me taking advantage of my focus on my work?”

It was safe to say by now, that they had both forgotten the prospect of playing Mario Kart, or at least Hanamaki was.

At least Suga was getting a kick out of it, giggling to himself, listening to the pair, and finally causing them to end their tiny little spat when the sound of his amusement grew loud enough to interrupt them.

“You’re cute,” Suga said, still slightly giggling.

“You know it,” Matsukawa stated at the same time when Hanamaki said “thank you”.

“I think I’ll leave you two to resolve this without an audience,” Suga said as he got up. “I’m going to go see if Tooru is over his snippy mood already.”

“Give him some loving and he’ll get out of it real fast,” Matsukawa suggested, his tone serious enough but also light to sound like a joke.

“He’ll get out of his clothes really fast too,” Hanamaki added on with a smirk.

Suga laughed in response making his way out of the apartment without a look back. “Bye,” he waved and softly closed the door, leaving them alone as if he had never been there in the first place.

Once the door was firmly closed, Hanamaki whirled to Matsukawa. “They’re definitely fucking already,” he stated.

“Definitely,” Matsukawa agreed with him, putting the controller he had held onto finally away. “We just have to make them confess to us.”

“Did Suga say anything?”

Matsukawa shook his head, going to turn the console and tv off. “But what Akaashi said last week is true. Suga is getting some, and it’s most likely from Oikawa.”

Hanamaki hummed, discarding his controller next to the other. “Want to bet how long it takes for them to admit that they’re together?”

Matsukawa huffed. “And lose and play your servant for a week? No thank you.” He casually picked up a magazine from the small coffee table in front of them and opened it to a page blindly as he sat back down. “My knees are still bruised from the last time and I’m just getting the feeling back into my jaw.”

Hanamaki chuckled. “Stop exaggerating. It was one blowjob.”

Matsukawa looked up to him from under his brows and moved his tongue against his cheek like he was trying to get something out of a hole in his teeth. It was suggestive, and Hanamaki’s blood ran hot instantly.

“I feel like having hot chocolate,” he decided and got up before his mind could convince his tired body to suggest a quick romp in the sheets to his boyfriend. “Would you like some too?”

“Yes, please,” Matsukawa replied, his eyes back on the page he had seemingly randomly ended up on.

Hanamaki went straight to boil the water before he took down too cups from the ‘cup tree’ that Matsukawa had once upon a time insisted on them buying, taking care to pick their favorite ones before he turned and opened a cupboard.

“My mom called,” Matsukawa said, effectively stopping Hanamaki in middle of reaching or the packet of cocoa on the high shelf. “She said they’re thinking of coming down for a visit.”

“You mean,” Hanamaki abandoned the cocoa on the shelf and turned to look at his boyfriend, who was idly leafing through the magazine. “She invited them over?”

“Yep,” Matsukawa stated deadpan, too casually, and Hanamaki narrowed his eyes.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Matsukawa looked down, stopped to peruse the page he was on with a little too much focus for it to be genuine interest in the article.

“Did you tell them that you quit your job?”

“No.”

“Is someone sick?”

“No.”

“Is someone getting married? Having kids?”

“No.”

“Going to a prison? Dying?”

Matsukawa looked up from the magazine with a peculiarly curious expression, his brow twisted and mouth in a downturned pout. “What’s with the questions?”

“When they want to see us, they invite us over. Always have,” Hanamaki replied, walking to the couch and sitting down sideways to face Matsukawa. “Why are they now suddenly coming here?”

Matsukawa shrugged and returned back to the magazine, only to look up quickly a second later. “Why did you ask if someone was going to prison?”

It was Hanamaki’s turn to shrug. “Your family is big, anything is possible.”

“Do you really think that they’re capable of doing something that could land them in a prison?”

“How many times did the cops bring your brother home again?”

“That’s different,” Matsukawa turned the page of the magazine, immersing himself into is once again. “He was an angsty teen then.”

“And what has changed since exactly?” Hanamaki inquired with a meaningfully cocked eyebrow.

The fact that Matsukawa didn’t answer was an answer in itself.

“Exactly,” Hanamaki stated then and got up, going back to making hot cocoa for them. “The fact that your dad is the chief of police is the only thing that has kept your brother from spending his nights in jail after a rowdy night out where he’s inflicted more damage to the streetlamps than he has on his bank account with the multiple drinks he’s bought for himself and everyone in the bar that night.”

“I get it,” Matsukawa drawled from his place from the couch. “You don’t like my brother. Isn’t that why we agreed not to talk about him?”

“You’re the one who asked about the prison.”

“You’re the one who brought him up.”

Hanamaki looked down to the two big cups filled with the rich and heavenly smelling cocoa that was already making him happy on the counter and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Matsukawa replied softly.

Hanamaki finished their hot cocoas with whipped cream, and brought the cups to the living room. Matsukawa threw the magazine onto the coffee table and accepted the offered cup.

“Your parents make me nervous,” Hanamaki admitted in a whisper he tried to hide into the cup, speaking against the porcelain rim right before he took a sip, his legs tucked up and knees in front of his chest, his position slightly constricted by his conservative work clothes. “I didn’t mean to drag your brother into the conversation.”

“I know, don’t worry,” Matsukawa smiled softly at him. “I can tell them not to come.”

“No, it’s okay. Just don’t leave me alone with them. Especially your dad.”

Matsukawa chuckled and leaned closer to leave a sweet coco-y kiss on Hanamaki’s lips. “They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

Hanamaki scoffed. “Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes, but took his next sip of the cocoa with a smile.

“Anyway,” Matsukawa took a sip and smacked his lips together. “How was work really?”

Hanamaki sighed under Matsukawa’s studying stare. ”Exhausting.” He hung his head back on the back of the couch.

”Why’d you say it was fine then?”

Hanamaki heard him put his cup away on the coffee table, the quiet sound of the porcelain placed on wood.

“I don’t want work to be a sore subject between us.”

“Why would it be?” Matsukawa questioned softly, moving closer across the couch, close enough for Hanamaki to feel his proximity.

“Because you don’t have one.” Hanamaki stated, his voice close to a whisper, and he brought his head up but hid his face behind his cup as he took a tentative sip of the warm rich cocoa.

“I quit,” Matsukawa made a counter point. “I didn’t get fired. There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” Hanamaki spoke into the cup.

“I do,” Matsukawa said softly, and Hanamaki could feel his eyes traveling across his body like the softest, most tender caress of fingers on his skin. “Let’s pretend that we made a bet and I lost,” he said then, still softly but with determination and he took the cup from Hanamaki.

“If you want to go down on me just go for it,” Hanamaki quipped with the beginning of a smile, too busy with the anticipation of what he knew was about to happen to mourn the loss of his unfinished cup of cocoa.

“Okay,” Matsukawa agreed easily, grabbing Hanamaki’s legs to turn him sideways on the couch with ease. “I love you,” he leaned over to whisper and kiss him, slow and soft. “Now, let me take care of you.” He moved his hands to the belt holding up Hanamaki’s pants, and unbuckled it with expert ease.

“Love you too,” Hanamaki sighed, losing himself to Matsukawa’s touch.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Keiji...” Bokuto whined, his fingers flexing against the sheets. “I’m gonna come...” he trailed off with a drawn out moan.

Akaashi lift his head up to stare at him under his heavy eyelids. “It’s just a massage,” he pointed out calmly, moving his hands steadily, applying pressure to the muscles at Bokuto’s back.

“But it feels really good,” Bokuto said, sounding a little delirious, and was no doubt drooling.

Akaashi hummed, continuing to smooth his hands across Bokuto’s back, bravely and without a second thought his words traveling lower and lower.

“Did they teach you at the school to move your hands so low?”

A corner of Akaashi’s lips ticked up with faint amusement, because they didn’t teach him that. “I just like your butt,” he admitted straight away in a low, hushed voice, his eyes following the movement of his hands as they dipped even lower. “Do you want me to stop?” he checked anyway. Bokuto had asked for a back massage, not groping.

“No, I like it,” Bokuto answered with a grin. “Keep going,” he encouraged, getting turned on by Akaashi’s hands gently squeezing his bottom, feeling Akaashi’s heated gaze on him.

Gaining confidence from Bokuto’s words, Akaashi abandoned tending to Bokuto’s back muscles and slid to sit a little lower on his legs to have better access to his ass.

Bokuto let out low, loud moan and Akaashi smiled, pleased. He loved how vocal Bokuto was, especially when he was immensely enjoying something, whether it was sex or tasty food. It was practically sinful how loudly Bokuto moaned every time he had yakitori, and Akaashi had kindly prohibited him from eating them in public if he was around.

“I really like your thighs,” he commented when his eyes traveled lower, and he noticed how the muscles at the back of Bokuto’s thigs flexed when he enjoyed a particular rub on his cheek.

“Yeah, I know,” Bokuto breathed against the mattress. “You’re always touching them, feeling them up, _humping_ on them.”

Akaashi looked up to the back of Bokuto’s head at the last words. He had no recollection of humping on Bokuto’s thighs, but then again, he might’ve been drunk. His inhibitions ceased to exist when he was sufficiently sloshed. He stopped touching Bokuto’s ass. “Is there something you like about me in particular?” he asked.

“Everything,” Bokuto answered almost instantly, as if he hadn’t even thought about it.

“That can’t be true,” Akaashi said calmly. He felt Bokuto start to turn, so he sat up on his knees to allow it, and settled back down over Bokuto’s legs when he was on his back, looking at him with a happy grin.

“But it is,” he exclaimed, grinning widely. “You’re perfect, and I love everything about you.”

Akaashi pursed his lips infinitesimally, his subconscious mind already fawning at the praise. He glanced down, saw the tent in Bokuto’s pants, and leaned over him, bracing one of his hands to the bed next to Bokuto’s head while his other brushed at the raised cloth of his pants.

Bokuto sucked in quick surprised breath at the touch.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” Akaashi offered in a sultry voice, his heated gaze locked with Bokuto’s.

“No,” he answered breathlessly, sat up and flipped them over on the bed before Akaashi had had the time to register that he was moving. “I want to suck you off.” He kissed Akaashi fervently, tangling his fingers in Akaashi’s curly hair.

And Akaashi should’ve known that Bokuto would want to. As a –

“payback for the back massage,” Bokuto spoke, his lips brushing on Akaashi before he went for another passionate kiss, slipping his tongue into Akaashi’s mouth.

“You don’t need to,” Akaashi protested without any meaning in his words, his mind already on the tightening coil in his lower abdomen when Bokuto trailed his lips down his neck with kisses and nips.

“But I want to,” Bokuto said vehemently, but softly, looking up at Akaashi as he pushed his shirt up with his warm hands burning on Akaashi’s skin over his stomach and chest.

“I love you, Koutarou,” Akaashi sighed at the feeling of Bokuto’s lips traveling down his chest.

“I know that, Keiji,” Bokuto grinned up to him. “Love you right back,” he said then, his lips resuming their trek filled with loving kisses down, lower and lower to the waistband of Akaashi’s pants.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Dirty Dancing?” Iwaizumi eyed Daichi’s shirt.

“Hm?” Daichi hummed shortly, looked down to his shirt as well, and looked up with a shy-ish smile. “Yeah, well,” he scratched the back of his head.

“I haven’t seen you wearing that before. Is it new?”

“No, Suga got it for me for my eighteenth birthday.”

Iwaizumi frowned. “As a joke?”

“No,” Daichi laughed shortly, looking away with embarrassment. “I was really into the movie back then, I made him watch it with me probably a hundred times.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, tucking his chin down closer to his chest for a moment before he looked up with amusement. “I love you so much I can’t even let it bother me that once upon a time your favorite movie had the line ‘No one puts Baby to the corner’.”

“Well,” Daichi stated with an underlying smirk in his voice. “I love you too and that’s why I’m going to pretend that you don’t have a thing for Godzilla.”

“I don’t,” Iwaizumi denied with a dark scowl. “He’s just badass.”

“Sure,” Daichi chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sorry?” Iwaizumi cocked his eyebrow. “Can you breathe a blast that could scorch another monster? I don’t think so.”

“Are you saying I’m not badass?” Daichi tried not to laugh so he would sound more disappointed that his boyfriend favored Godzilla over him, but there was no stopping the escape of a few sounds of laughter.

“You know,” Iwaizumi said and scooted off the bed, deciding on not commenting on Daichi’s blatant tease. “You shouldn’t have bothered putting on a shirt.”

“Oh?” Daichi looked at him with a faint smirk. “Why is that?”

Iwaizumi stopped in front of Daichi and grabbed the hem of his shirt and fluidly pulled it up and the shirt off of Daichi. “Because I like you like this.” He looked straight to Daichi’s eyes.

Daichi dropped his hands on Iwaizumi’s shoulders and moved them to wrap his arms around his neck. “I know,” he admitted in a whisper and kissed Iwaizumi. “Maybe I just like how you take the shirt off of me.”

Iwaizumi cocked his eyebrow and one side of his lips lifted into a smirk. “Oh you do, huh?”

“By the way, about tomorrow,” Daichi said hurriedly, as if a thought had just occurred to him and he needed to voice it before he forgot about it, his arms moving so his hands were on Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

“When Oikawa and Suga come?” Iwaizumi questioned as his fingered traveled along the waistband of Daichi’s pajama bottoms.

“Yeah,” Daichi breathed in, the feel of Iwaizumi’s fingers so low on his stomach tickling him and simultaneously causing goosebumps. “Can you not throw food and waste it?”

“I will if Oikawa does,” Iwaizumi replied bluntly, in no way denying that he wouldn’t waste another bag of seaweed if Oikawa did anything to warrant it. “Can you not spend the whole evening speaking in inside jokes only you and Suga get?”

Daichi chuckled, took Iwaizumi’s hand that was slowly and sneakily creeping past the waistband and inside his pants, reached with his other hand to turn the lights off, and let him to the bed. “That’s what you get when you put best friends in the same room.”

“When you put best friends in the same room, you also get a food fight,” Iwaizumi commented with the hint of a pleased smile as they both fell onto the bed, on their own sides, meeting in the middle under the covers.

Daichi laughed as he settled to lie down next to his boyfriend, and sighed with exhaustion of the long day and hard work and contentment of the comfortable bed. As much as he would have liked to go further with the sort of undressing and the promise and excitement of the kiss, he was too tired to actually do anything about it.  

“I think we should get a dog.”

Daichi opened the eyes he hadn’t realized had closed, first to look at the ceiling and then next to him, to Iwaizumi who had his eyes closed.

“A dog?” he asked, to make sure he had heard right. Iwaizumi looked like he was sleeping, but surely he had said what Daichi thought he had said.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi sighed, inching closer to him, throwing his arm and leg haphazardly over Daichi’s waist and legs. “A smart one so we don’t need to teach him forever not to pee inside.”

Daichi laughed out loud, exhaustion and tiredness causing it to be louder than usual, almost too loud in the dead of the night. “A dog might be nice,” he mused, the last thought before sleep overtook, the warmth of Iwaizumi’s body lulling him with the feeling of security.

“And big enough to reach over the kitchen counter to put the coffee maker on in the mornings.”

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Noya?” Asahi asked in surprise when he opened the door and saw the short man standing behind it with a bouquet. He was perplexed, shocked even, to see him there, looking at him with fierce determination. It had been  a couple of weeks since the last time Nishinoya had brought him flowers, and the last bouquet had been dead sitting in the vase on his window sill as a reminder that Nishinoya had cared about him once upon a time, as a hope that it would soon be replaced with a new bouquet of fresh flowers.

“Here,” Nishinoya offered the bouquet to him, and Asahi accepted it with a trembling hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered, hope blooming in his chest as he admired the beautiful colors.

“I was thinking of you when I made it,” Nishinoya said.

Asahi smiled faintly, and brought the flowers to his nose for a quick smell of the competing smells.

“And – “

Asahi looked at Nishinoya over the flowers, with apprehension growing in his mind.

“- we need to talk.” Nishinoya had his fists on his waist, determination oozing out of him.

Asahi swallowed thickly.

“About us.”

Asahi opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Nishinoya enter his apartment. He had been fearing this moment, dreading this conversation, and had been avoiding it to his best abilities. But he couldn’t run from it forever. At some point he would have to stomp down his fears and face up to it, he knew it, but no amount of knowing it had prepared him for it.

“Okay,” he nodded timidly and closed the door after Nishinoya. “Let me put these in the water first.”

“Asahi.”

Asahi glanced over his shoulder.

“I love you.” Nishinoya stated, his gaze unwavering and voice strong, as if speaking of absolute truth.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Suga rolled under the blanket to his side, tucked his hands under his head, and followed with his eyes Oikawa move back and forth across the room, muttering to himself as if he was reciting a poem or a spell, running his fingers through his open hair. The yellowish light of the small lamp on the bedside table glinted in his hair, giving it almost a golden hue, turning his whole being almost ethereal, unreal.

Suga smiled, his heart overflowing with affection, desire, happiness. “Tooru,” he called softly for the man’s attention.

Oikawa stopped in his tracks, his mutterings ceasing when he looked back to Suga.

“I love you,” Suga confessed, speaking softly, unable to keep it inside him, unwilling to not say the words whenever an opportunity presented itself.

A smile grew on Oikawa’s lips and as he walked over, it turned into a soft grin. “I’ll be right in,” he said and leaned over to kiss Suga, his hands braced on the bed. “Go to sleep. I won’t take long.” He straightened up then, took one of his many books, and slipped out of the room.

Suga sighed looking after Oikawa, and rolled on his back, one of his arms over his forehead as he looked up to the ceiling, wondering _is he ever going to say it back?_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued: 
> 
> "Daichi, tell Kuroo I've topped you."  
> (Guess who dies of laughter after that comment)


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a fair warning, there's going to be some angst in the end, but I'm about 99,99% sure that no one thought the angst would be THIS (yes, in caps because... what have I done?)
> 
> Disclaimer: I cried when I reread the chapter

 

 

 

“You know,” Oikawa drawled sleepily when he was rudely woken up, after he realized what had woken him up. “I was told that you like to sleep in, that it’s a norm for you to sleep in.” He twisted his arm behind his back, to wrap around the extra body lying on him. “I feel lied to, betrayed and let down with the false information since you keep waking up before me.”

“It’s too hot to sleep,” Suga responded, his chin lightly digging into Oikawa’s shoulder blade, his hands slithering under Oikawa’s arms and around his chest.

Oikawa yawned against the pillow and wiggled a little under Suga’s weight in a form of his usual morning stretch.

“Your hair is wet,” he commented as he noticed something wet and tickling on his neck, and slowly rolled onto his back, Suga moving along with him to make the turn easier. “Did you take a shower?” He gazed up to fondly smiling Suga and ran his fingers through the slightly darker due to the wetness –hair.

Suga hummed a confirmation and leaned down to nuzzle at Oikawa’s throat and the side of the neck. “I want you to fuck me,” he declared boldly when he lift his head up.

“Wow,” Oikawa stated, his hands automatically settling onto Suga’s hips as he straddled him. “How is it possible for you to have the libido of an eighteen year old?”

“My boyfriend is hot,” Suga answered, his tone suggesting that it should’ve been obvious. Which it was, Oikawa wasn’t going to lie or deny.

“I think the better question would be how are you sexy with everything you do. Any mundane thing; the way you hold the remote when you flip through channels, or the way you just lounge on a couch and read, or the way you brush your hair in the morning and pull it to a ponytail, the way you drink coffee.” Suga’s eyes moved as his gaze traveled all across Oikawa’s face, following the movements of his fingers as they caressed on the soft skin.

Oikawa’s smirk grew as Suga listed the various situations he’d found him sexy in, and wrapped his arms securely around Suga, locking them behind Suga’s back by holding onto his wrists. “I look sexy doing those things because I am sexy,” he raised his chin a little as he said it.

“That’s true,” Suga nodded with a smile that was a touch too lopsided to be just _a smile._ He was up to something, Oikawa was at once convinced, and proven right with Suga’s hips rolled against his.

Oikawa released his wrists and moved his hands along Suga’s back his hips to still him. “No, I’m not fucking you right now.”

Suga whined, the sound coming from low in his throat as he made another roll of his hips in defiance, the move restricted thanks to Oikawa’s firm grip.

“No,” Oikawa refused to succumb to Suga’s seduction, his stringency lessened by his surprised laugh – he hadn’t expected the whine made in discontent.

“You’re no fun,” Suga stated instantly, his face serious and tone low, clearly not at all pleased that his morning wasn’t going as he had probably planned and had looked forward to.

“Don’t think I don’t hear the chatter coming from the kitchen,” Oikawa said back, just as seriously. He wasn’t about to have sex with Suga with everyone else in hearing distance.

“We’ll be quiet,” Suga suggested, his tone going higher with how happy he was with his idea.

Oikawa couldn’t help but laugh again at Suga’s eagerness for morning sex, at his vain attempts of starting something with his weak hip rolls, still held down and in place by Oikawa’s strong hands, probably forming bruises to bloom on Suga’s fair skin.

Honestly, though, Oikawa would’ve loved to have sex with Suga. More than anything. It was just... They would definitely be overheard.

“When have you ever been able to be quiet?” he asked with a laugh, moving his hands to rest on Suga’s lower back under the shirt, his fingers slowly moving on their own accord and drawing invisible lines into the skin, when it seemed that Suga was done with his earlier attempts.

“Does it really matter if everyone hears us now that they know we’re together?”

“It does to me,” Oikawa answered with raised eyebrows, trying to convey how much he meant it.

Suga hummed, his fingers lightly tapping on Oikawa’s shoulders as he appeared to be deep in thought, his eyes moving as he kept observing Oikawa’s face. “You’re not jealous right now,” he mused quietly, as if still in his thoughts.

Oikawa frowned. “What do you mean?”

“If you knew someone that causes you to become jealous over me could hear us, you’d already have me stripped.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Oikawa feigned haughtiness, as if he was above such silly notions. Him? Jealous? Pfft. Never.  

“Yes, you would,” Suga stated softly, his smile easing the bite of his statement. “Whenever you feel jealous about something, you cling to it, try and show everyone with your words and actions that that something, or someone, belongs to you, and only you.”

“You think you have me all figured out.”

“I know I do.” Suga stated again, still in that soft way that made it really hard for Oikawa to disagree, as he rose a little and moved to the side of Oikawa, most likely in search of a more comfortable position where he wasn’t straddling Oikawa anymore but was loosely resting against his side, his arms circling Oikawa and their legs, as always of course, somehow tangled.

Oikawa closed his eyes, loving how Suga’s body was pressing on him, and moved his hands further on Suga’s back to wrap his arms tighter around Suga, to hold him closer, to preemptively prevent him from leaving, or moving. He was quite sure his arms were like snakes, constricting Suga’s breathing with how tightly he held on. (He still wasn’t jealous, don’t go there.) But Suga never complained.

As Suga sighed, sounding contented, Oikawa came to the slow realization that he had just talked himself and Suga out of having sex. That was a first, surely. He really hoped _that_ wouldn’t become a norm.

“They’ve all already heard me before, I’m sure,” Suga said quietly, his words muffled by the fabric of Oikawa’s shirt as his cheek was smushed against his shoulder, arm, chest, take you pick of a body part.

Oikawa opened his eyes quickly, because hadn’t he heard Suga with someone else before as well? Maybe he and Suga should have loud sex when others could hear it, so they would know how much better lover he is than Terushima. Not that he was into exhibitionism at all, or got off on knowing that anyone could hear them, but he felt the irrepressible and petty tug in him to prove for once and for all to everyone that he was better at pleasuring Suga than Terushima, or anyone else, had even been.

He wasn’t jealous, just knew that he was better at everything regarding Suga than any of his past boyfriends and lovers, friends with benefits and one night stands had been, and he needed everyone to know it too.

Maybe for selfish, petty reasons, but he didn’t invest time to delve on that. His body did react to the realization, though, as he wrapped his arm around Suga’s shoulders tighter – and somehow that was still possible – suddenly possessive, as if something would come and take Suga away from him if he didn’t practically glue Suga to him. He’d rather crush Suga’s body into his than let him go.

“Do I detect jealousy?” Suga asked in a teasing tone, giggling a little and poking lightly on Oikawa’s side.

“I would be honored to let everyone know how I can make you moan my name,” Oikawa replied with a smug smirk. So what if he was jealous? Maybe he made the rushed decision to just own up to it.

“You have nothing to prove,” Suga laughed, rising a little to rest on his elbow, to look at Oikawa.

Oikawa turned his head to the side to look at Suga, to see his smile that he knew would be on his lips from his laugh, to witness the joy in his sparkling eyes, to admire the mussed up and still damp hair.

“But if you’re not opposed to others hearing us, we don’t have to take care of the same precautions that we have before,” Suga added more softly.

“Like locking the door?”

“Mm-hm,” Suga hummed his affirmation as he moved closer to Oikawa, pushed himself up to hover over him. “Most of them would leave once they recognize the sounds and realize what we’re doing. Although,” Suga made a considering tilt of his head. “Some of them might stick around as the pervs they are, to fill up their spank bank.”

Oikawa chuckled lowly, knowing _exactly_ who Suga meant.

“If you’re not busy in the afternoon, we could have a test run of sorts,” Suga suggested with a tempting smile, his fingers drawing miscellaneous but admittedly alluring shapes on Oikawa’s chest.  

“I can’t today,” Oikawa said regretfully, shaking his head a little as he ran his fingers down Suga’s temple and tucked his hair behind his ear.

“Oh?” Suga sounded surprised. “You have plans?”

“Yes.” Oikawa confirmed, but didn’t reveal more. He had kept this close to his vest for a long time, not wanting to jinx it. He knew, that if he succeeded, he could tell Suga later, confident that Suga wouldn’t hold it against him, but understanding why he had kept it a secret.

“Do you have another boyfriend?” Suga asked, clearly in jest, but with a darker tone, just as clearly disapproving.

Oikawa laughed and pushed himself to sit up, Suga along with him situating on his knees between his legs. “No,” he still laughed with his answer, but turned serious in a blink of an eye. “A girlfriend.”

Suga sputtered and pushed on Oikawa’s shoulder with a wide smile. “Get off,” he laughed and struggled off of the bed, Oikawa trying to hold him back with hands trying to grab onto his waist.

“No,” Oikawa whined after him, his hands slipping from Suga. “Not yet. Come back so I can snuggle you to death.”

Suga kept laughing, stumbling a little as he stepped off of the bed. “As lovely as the life threatening snuggles sound, I have things to do.”

“You’re no fun.” Oikawa grumbled, falling on his back in the most dramatic fashion. “What happened? Ever since you kissed me in front of everyone,” Oikawa paused to point an accusing finger at Suga. “Something I haven’t forgiven you for yet, by the way.” He raised his eyebrow meaningfully, as if making a point with it, and continued casually then as he let his hand drop down next to him. “You haven’t been as fun as you used to.”

“Didn’t I just initiate morning sex?” Suga looked back to him, picking up his long ago discarded towel from the floor.

“You bypassed my other comment completely.”

Suga stilled and smiled slowly at him, fond and loving. “What other comment?”

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” Oikawa grumbled with a pout up to the ceiling. “At least help me out of this bed before you leave,” he stretched a hand towards Suga, looking at him with a pout and pleading eyes, hoping he successfully imitated a sad puppy. “I need to shower too.”  

“What?” Suga sounded delighted as usual when he got to tease Oikawa, and a little surprised, curious even, as he made his way back to the bed, all two steps he had managed to travel away earlier. “No suggestions of having me in the shower with you?”

Oikawa’s expression morphed into a smirk and he stacked his arms under his head, crossed his ankles leisurely. “Now you want me to join you?”

“We won’t both fit,” Suga answered, as always. “I was just used to you offering to share the shower with me. It was... odd that you didn’t.”

 Oikawa laughed, grabbing the pillow from under his head and throwing it at Suga.  

Suga caught the pillow and lazily thrust it to the foot of the bed, landing next to Oikawa’s feet. “Do you want my help or not?” He smiled at Oikawa, reaching behind his head to take his hand and giving it a little tug.

“Yes, please,” Oikawa said childishly, using Suga’s hand to pull himself up to sit. “Thank you.” He tilted his chin up to Suga, who easily, as if it was his second nature, first instinct, gave him a quick kiss, other hand on Oikawa’s cheek.

The kiss morphed quickly into something that wasn’t just quick and small and soft, but still filled with all of their adoring feelings for each other.

It really was a shame that they weren’t alone in the apartment, Oikawa thought as he pulled Suga to straddle his lap, when he heard the sounds Suga let out as his mouth worked on another set of pretty bruises on Suga’s collarbones, adding to the ones already there, some more faded than the others, some new from last night.

But the sounds.

Oikawa wondered if Suga knew what the gasps and breathless little moans did to him, if Suga was aware how it sparked some undeniable interest in his pants. He seriously considered just saying fuck it to everyone in the kitchen and living room and stripping Suga down, until he glanced at the clock and realized how late in the morning it was getting.

Reluctantly, he broke away from the searing kiss Suga had enticed him with, his wandering hands settling on Suga’s hips once more. “As much as I would love to continue with this,” he whispered, their lips barely apart and labored breaths intermixing. “I need to shower before I’m late.”

“Right, to your _thing,”_ Suga nodded and pulled away with an expression of displeasure but with a soft smile.

Oh, how Oikawa loved that smile.

“Want to shower with me? Your hair’s gotten dry already,” Oikawa suggested as a flirt, knowing that Suga would say no.

“Once we move into an apartment with a shower spacious enough for it.”

Oikawa was surprised of the quick comeback. “Promise?” he asked after Suga’s furthering back.

“Promise,” Suga replied with a look over his shoulder just before he slipped out of the room.

 

 

...

 

 

Once Suga had managed to push and pull in equal halves a cooperative and uncooperative Oikawa from the bed, he left him to his own devices and went to make some breakfast, his lips still tingling from their kissing and skin still coated with shivers from Oikawa’s touches.

In the kitchen, he took a look towards the living room, to the source of the chatter, counted the number of heads and took note of the various hair colors to identify everyone.

Kuroo was sitting on the new couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and with sleeping Kenma’s legs thrown over his lap. Bokuto and Akaashi were sharing the old couch, both taking as much space as possible, and impossible with just a quick look to discern which limb belonged to who when they were so casually overlaid. Daichi and Iwaizumi were sitting in the armchair, Iwaizumi in front of Daichi and in between his legs, back resting against Daichi’s chest and head against his shoulder, hands on top of Daichi’s knees that were propped up with his feet on the seat of the chair.

“Why are there so many of you here?” Suga asked curiously, as he made his way to the kettle to find it filled with hot water.

“We thought we’d come and hang with you, to break in the new couch,” Bokuto answered cheerily, saluting with his cup of tea.

“Isn’t the couch already broken in?” Suga asked, pouring a cupper for himself to let it cool down a little while he got something to eat. The new couch had already been there for almost two weeks. For two weeks it had been making friends with Kumamon, who now resided on it, big and looming and a soft surface to lean onto, taking up about half of the seating surface. Suga was convinced Kumamon needed comfort snuggles now, after its undoubtedly traumatizing experience.

“I haven’t planted my butt print on it yet, so no.” Kuroo answered, wiggling exaggeratedly to make his point.

“Where’s Oikawa?” Iwaizumi interrupted Kuroo, but that didn’t deter the wiggling man, only caused him to jump up and down on his butt quicker and higher, bothering Kenma’s slumber with his wild and raucous ways.

“Shower,” Suga answered, noticing how Iwaizumi looked towards the hallway when he asked. “It’s nice to see you two early here too,” he spoke to both Iwaizumi and Daichi.

“Suga, it’s past eleven. How is that early?” Daichi laughed.

“It’s not past noon yet, it’s early,” Suga stated matter-of-factly.

“But Suga did bring up something that warrants a question,” Akaashi said, eyeing the unexpected couple sharing the armchair. “Why are you here at this time? It’s unusual that you’re here in the mornings.”

“We were on our way to buy a new coffee maker, because ours broke –“

“How did you break your coffee maker?” Bokuto interrupted, leaning in with excited curiosity.

“Doesn’t matter,” Iwaizumi waved his hand in front of his face to brush the question away, as if it was insignificant to the storytelling.

Suga assumed sex in the kitchen as the cause for the demise of the coffee maker. It wouldn’t be the first time Daichi and Iwaizumi broke something rather expensive in their kitchen because they were using the counters inappropriately.

“Anyway, we were out and about, when we thought, let’s just come here. That way we get coffee, and we don’t have to pay an overinflated price for it at some café,” Iwaizumi finished the story, in his no-nonsense voice, straight to the point. “We’d have to run just water through the new machine a couple of times before we could get a real cup of coffee from it, and that would take time. It was just more efficient to come here.”

Suga nodded at the end of Iwaizumi’s reasoning, deciding not to say anything to that, he had nothing to say to that. He merely picked up his quick breakfast and a cup of tea and moved to sit by the island, turned so he could still see everyone in the living room.

“Don’t you find it funny how there’s always been coffee here, but Suga doesn’t drink it?” Kuroo asked with a smile, going for a sip from his cup.

“I drink it sometimes,” Suga defended – he felt that Kuroo’s amused tone needed defending from when he really only corrected Kuroo.

“And the quality and taste of the coffee has gotten better since Oikawa moved in?” Bokuto asked, smiling too.

“That’s because it’s up to Tooru to buy the coffee grounds.”

“I’m pretty sure the only reason that there was coffee here before Oikawa moved in was that Suga wanted there to be coffee to offer to his overnight gentleman callers,” Daichi teased.

Suga rolled his eyes in response, and in the middle of it, noticed Oikawa emerge from the hallway, fresh and clean after a shower and dressed in clean clothes.

Oikawa was looking at Daichi when he came, and Suga wasn’t the least bit surprised or shocked when Oikawa came right up to him, tenderly held Suga’s cheeks in his hands and kissed him before he leaned to his ear.

“Want to have sex right here on this island right now?” Oikawa whispered.

Suga chuckled without a sound, his shoulder shaking with his amusement and leaned back a bit to look at Oikawa. Right, he wasn’t easily jealous at all.

“I’m good for now, but thank you for offering,” he declined the offer sweetly.

Oikawa smiled back and gave another kiss on Suga’s lips, and another on his cheek. “Did you make me coffee?” he asked then, hands dropped to hold onto Suga’s waist.

“Someone did,” Suga replied, gesturing with a head tilt towards the living room, where everyone was most definitely following their interaction with hawk like eyes, and maybe with small smiles, happy for their friends as they probably were. Or gawking at them as if they were Martians doing something new, unexpected and peculiar, something only Martians would do, maybe with Marvin the Martian, talking in obscure languages.

“Thank you,” Oikawa beamed at Suga, though, obviously ignoring their spectators and went for a third kiss as he stepped past Suga to get to his elixir of life, the essence of his soul, the everlasting love he would still crave when he was dead.

Suga followed him with his eyes, taking in the way Oikawa was dressed, thinking back to couple of days ago, to Oikawa throwing his shirts one by one onto the bed as he struggled to decide what to wear for when Suga’s mother would come.  It was unclear to him which shirt Oikawa had decided on, if he had, or whether he was going to wear pants or not.

“Where exactly are you going?” he asked, evaluating further the casual but sharp knitted sweater, the illegally well-fitting black jeans, his freshly washed and dried hair in a carefully tied up ponytail. He had even swapped his usual alien and ufo patterned socks into plain black ones. The nerd had been left behind in the closet and a real dashing gentleman had been brought out. Suga wasn’t sure what to think of it, and at the same time he had to mentally restrain himself not to drag Oikawa back to the bedroom right that second to have a go at the sex, no matter if someone or everyone in the living room heard them. He took a look down at what he himself was wearing, at the light blue jeans with big rips on the knees and a white t-shirt, and wondered how in different league he was from Oikawa. And chastised himself immediately after the thought, since, did it matter if they were in different leagues if they loved each other?

If?

“It’s a secret,” Oikawa smirked over his shoulder as he sweetened his coffee by the fridge, interrupting Suga’s short bout of insecurity.

“You’re keeping secrets from me?” Suga asked with a slight smile, hoping and wishing that Oikawa wasn’t, and if he was, that it wasn’t anything too serious.

“Man has to have his secrets,” Oikawa stated casually, slipping the milk back into the fridge and turning to look at Suga, leaning back to the counter and hiding his grin behind the brim of his coffee cup as he eyed Suga with mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I’m not sure that I like that you’re keeping secrets from me,” Suga admitted quietly, a bit shyly.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Oikawa grinned at him. Even though his words sounded sincere, the grin lessened the meaning into a slightly devious, as if Oikawa was trying to mislead him, and Suga really didn’t know what to think anymore.

“Are you sure?” Suga asked hesitantly, glancing to the living room towards others to make sure their conversation wasn’t in their focus. At least they weren’t full on ogling them, and there seemed to be some attempt of conversation going on between the sextet. “Because from the way you’re dressed, it looks like you’re going on a date.”

Oikawa sipped his coffee, lowered his cup to showcase his pleased smile, and moved to lean his elbows on the island across from where Suga was sitting. “Are you jealous? I think I like you jealous. It’s interesting.” He held the cup of coffee in between his hands, looking up to Suga with unhidden glint of interest in his eyes, in his smile, stealing little bites of Suga’s breakfast between his sentences. Suga didn’t mind, though. How could he when he was the one who had taught the seagull-y habit to Oikawa.

“You didn’t deny the date,” Suga pointed out, trying his best and hardest not to believe himself. It couldn’t be a date. There was no way. Oikawa was with him.

Right?

“You don’t need to worry, Suga-chan,” Oikawa waved his hand in front of him, as if waving his worries away as if they were nothing but pesky little fruit flies. “As long as I get the loving at home, I don’t need to go and look for it from somewhere else.”

The small, careful smile on Suga’s lips slipped away. Surely Oikawa didn’t mean that he... And he had refused sex earlier...

“Yaku!” Kuroo crowed loudly when the short man entered their apartment, interrupting Suga and Oikawa’s conversation. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for a week!”

“I’ve been busy with work,” Yaku answered placidly as he came to the kitchen, straight to the coffee maker. “Didn’t even have time to buy coffee. Hey Suga, Oikawa,” he greeted them pleasantly with a nod and a smile as he reached for a cup from the cupboard. “I see you got Kumamon back.”

“It’s still a mystery how,” Suga replied, subdued under his worry of Oikawa’s plans.

“I’ve been at work too,” Kuroo cut in, to Yaku.

“You got the spot?” Yaku asked, clearly surprised, but with a proud undertone. “Good job,” he praised when Kuroo nodded with a wide grin.

“Guess what else you’ve missed in your absence,” Kuroo continued. “Suga and Oikawa are together.”

“I’ve known for weeks,” Yaku replied nonchalantly, seating himself in the living room as well, on the same couch with Kuroo, practically drowning into the sinking enormity of it as he leaned onto Kumamon, patting Kenma’s leg.

“Suga! What the hell?” Kuroo gasped, and was ignored in the face of something more pressing.

“I have to go,” Oikawa said with a glance at the clock on the microwave, finishing his coffee in one long gulp and placed the empty cup into the sink, leaving it for someone else to take care of. “I don’t want to be late.”

“Where are you going?” Suga tried one more time.

“Secret,” Oikawa whispered against his lips, kissed him with hands cupping his jaw. “Wish me luck.”

Suga slid his finger a belt loop of Oikawa’s jeans, preventing him from getting away. “I’ll wish you luck if you tell me where you’re going,” he tried with a sweet smile.

“I’ll just settle for a good luck kiss then,” Oikawa grinned quickly, swooped in for a kiss like a seagull for a left over French fry at the beach, shocking Suga with it, just enough for his hold on Oikawa to slacken, and went straight to the front door with a carefree and mischievous smirk thrown over his shoulder.

Suga looked at the closed door for a moment after Oikawa had already left, mourning that he had left without giving a sufficient explanation where he was going, Kuroo badgering to Yaku to find out how he knew before anyone else and why he didn’t tell anyone else that he knew.

“It’s so weird seeing you two together like that,” Daichi commented, bringing Suga back from his rare sting of jealousy, a feeling quite unfamiliar to him, only bothering him when he was feeling insecure.

Suga turned his head slowly towards his best friend’s voice and saw a warm and soft smile.

“Weird?” he asked with a corresponding smile, rolling the anxiousness creeping up his back and neck with a subtle roll of his shoulders.

Daichi sat next to Suga. “Well, weird and not weird,” he amended his comment, tilting his head a little to the side and back as he regarded Suga. “You’re behaving like you used to, and you always insisted that the two of you were just friends. And now you still behave the same way, except with kisses, but now knowing that you two _are_ together, it’s slightly different.” He stopped there, quite abruptly, as if pondering on his thoughts, his next words. “It’s just with a different perspective now that we observe you two interact. With the knowledge that you two are dating.”

Suga nodded, understanding where Daichi was coming from. He probably would find it perplexing first too if he were to see his friends, who had been nothing but friends, with the new knowledge that they were more than just friends.

The chirp and vibration of his phone caught his focus and he reached over the long island to grab it, just and just reaching with his fingertips.

“It’s sweet, though,” Kuroo noted when he came to deposit his cup and with three others to the sink, of course just leaving them there for someone else to wash too. “You two are cute together.”

“Right, thanks.” Suga said skeptically as he read the message from his mother.

“Why did you sound like that?” Kuroo seemed bemused.

“Huh?” Suga asked, replying to the message, quickly glancing up.

“Nothing.” Kuroo seemed baffled, as he looked to Daichi, maybe for a back up, maybe for answers. “But why did Yaku know about you and Oikawa before you told any of us?” He looked a little worried, distressed, maybe even a little offended.

“I caught them making out on their couch,” Yaku finally gave the answer Kuroo was desperately hunting for.

Kuroo gasped again, this time joined by Bokuto. “You caught them making out and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Suga asked me not to,” Yaku still spoke nonchalantly, unbothered by the topic, focused on emptying his cup of coffee, but with a slight smirk hidden by the angle of his head.

“Suga!” Kuroo whirled towards him. “How long have you two been together exactly?”

“Hm?” Suga hummed distractedly and looked up quickly from his phone, from his mother’s reply. “Oh, about a month.”

“WHAT?!” Kuroo’s shout rang in the kitchen. “How could you keep this from us so long?” he demanded to know.

“How could you bet on Tooru confessing to me and then try and influence him to do so and not do so based on what day you had bet on?” Suga asked back, sounding just as matter-of-fact as Yaku had.

 

 

...

 

 

Daichi smiled proudly at his best friend, at his quite righteous rebuttal.

Kuroo didn’t seem to have a reply, if the way he kept opening and closing his mouth was anything to go by. “Kenma! We’ve been betrayed,” he finally cried out and made his way back to the couch, going to half lie in defeat over his best friend, annoying him with his fake wailing, receiving a couple of lazy and weak swats on his backside from the sleeping man.

“Don’t act so offended Kuroo. You have known for days, but Suga still hasn’t told his mom,” Daichi revealed.

“Suga!” Kuroo raised his head from Kenma’s hood, where he had hidden his face to fake cry to, to hiss and tut at the same time, disapproving and in disbelief.

“What?” Suga looked up with innocence, alarmed by the way Kuroo spoke to him.

“You need to tell Akiko-san! She’s your mother. She deserves to know.”

“What are we talking about?” Suga looked to Daichi for support and answers.

A slow smile spread on Daichi’s lips at the apparent cluelessness of his best friend. “Kuroo is appalled that you haven’t told your mom about you and Oikawa.”

“Oh,” Suga breathed, apparently understanding what was going on around him. “I’ll tell her, don’t worry.” He went back to his phone, leaving Kuroo looking thoroughly unconvinced and to hide his head back into Kenma’s hood, the smaller man given up on resisting.

“Why is he so distracted?” Bokuto stage whispered to Daichi, his hand cupping his mouth as he watched them over the back of the old couch.

Daichi shrugged as he watched Suga type something into his phone. Maybe he was messaging with someone. Wondering briefly if it was with Oikawa, Daichi glanced at Iwaizumi and they shared a moment of eye contact, and in silent agreement looked to Kuroo who had raised his head from hood, probably tired of the lazy kicks Kenma had started aiming to his stomach to get the taller man off of him. Daichi could see what Kuroo was planning before the sly man grinned as his gaze studied Suga.

“Hey Suga,” Kuroo started casually, and Daichi already knew that he was about to tease Suga. “Suga, what’s your kink?”

“People with kind hearts and good intentions,” Suga answered, clearly distracted from the question to really think it through before he spoke.

Daichi knew that to any random stranger Suga’s comment might sound innocent, but he knew his best friend better than that. He knew that Suga’s kink was sweet attributes, because it made them easy to corrupt.

“What the hell are you doing with Oikawa then?” Iwaizumi asked, causing laughter to erupt all around them.

“Hm? What?” Suga looked up, confused of what was going on, looking at everyone as he tried to figure out what was so funny.

“Nothing,” Daichi chuckled and patted Suga’s shoulder consolingly. “Why are you so distracted?” he asked then, leaning a little closer to take a peek at the phone in Suga’s hand, the reason for his distracted state.

“Mom keeps texting me about her plans,” Suga replied, locking the phone with a sigh.

Daichi perked up, as he always did at the mention of Suga’s mother and was definitely looking forward to her visit. “When is she coming?”

“Friday,” Suga smiled a little as he answered, probably looking forward to seeing his mother again. Daichi knew how much he really missed her. “And she’s planning on staying a couple of days after the graduation.”

“That’s nice.” Daichi thought out loud, really thinking on how lovely it would be to have a couple of extra days of Akiko around. “I’ll probably set up camp here as well.”

“Where would you fit?” Suga inquired with a smile.

“On one of the couches,” Daichi suggested, as if it was obvious. “You’re going to sleep in the same bed with Oikawa anyway, and your mom will probably sleep in your bed, like always. So the couches are free.”

“You can’t stay here,” Suga denied blankly, but still smiling enough for Daichi to see how much Suga was looking forward to her visit, unlocking the phone when another text came in. “I’m not running a motel.”

“Are you sure?” Daichi asked with an amused but soft grin. “You already feed everyone like this is a bed and breakfast.”

“Hey,” Suga decided that Daichi’s remark didn’t need a reply and he locked his phone again, putting it down. “Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure, what is it?” Daichi rest his elbow on top of the island and his chin in his hand.

“Can she sleep at your place on the night of the graduation?”

Daichi frowned. “Why?”

Suga heaved a sigh, as if he was tired of dealing with the world and all of it’s bullshit. “You know why,” he said darkly.

Daichi instantly understood, and coughed a laugh. “You want your mother to stay with me so you can have sex with Oikawa?”

“It’s just one night.”

Daichi laughed again, dropping his head between his shoulders, and looked up when the laughter soon subsided. “And what do you plan to tell her so she’ll agree to stay with us?” he asked with a smirk, leaning his head on his hand again.

“The truth.” Suga stated matter-of-factly. “She’d guess anyway so there would be no point in lying to her.”

“Hmm, true,” Daichi had to agree. He inhaled deep, thinking it over, and honestly, it would be an honor to have Akiko stay with them for a night. He already knew it would be great. “Okay,” he agreed with an exhale. “But you have to get her to agree to it too, without springing it on her and just pushing her out the door at the end of the party.”

“When have I ever done anything so horrible to her?” Suga laughed. “I’ll tell her, ask her, don’t worry,” he reassured Daichi with a soft smile then, picking up his once again buzzing phone.

“That’s not from your mom, is it?” Daichi asked with a knowing smile.

Suga’s eyes flicked up from the phone to him and then back down, the soft smile full of fondness ever present on his lips. “It’s from Tooru,” he admitted, his thumbs moving in quick taps as he replied to the message.

“I could tell,” Daichi admired the look of love on Suga’s features, wondering if he had a similar look on him whenever he looked at Hajime, or when in past he had looked at Suga. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Suga nodded a little and put the phone away with a shy smile. “I do,” he breathed out, but deflated with it.

Daichi straightened from the island, checked that no one was listening in on their conversation by casting a glance to the living room and the rowdy bunch monkeying around there – Yaku was berating Kuroo for bothering Kenma, who had curled up into a tight ball as he tried to sleep, Akaashi and Bokuto were egging Kuroo on as he continued to poke Yaku with his toes, and Iwaizumi eyeing everyone as if he was wondering how the hell he had ended up making friends with all of them, as if he couldn’t believe he had once made such a bad decision.

“What’s wrong?” Daichi asked in a low whisper once he was assured that no one was paying them any attention.

Suga looked up at him from the island top, and then back down, his eyes cast to the side. “He hasn’t said it back.”

Daichi wasn’t sure what to say, how to react. First, he was unreasonably outraged that Oikawa wouldn’t say it back to the lovely, wonderful Suga. Then he was confused –why wouldn’t Oikawa say it back? It was clear to everyone and their blind aunt that he was in love with Suga. And then he was worried for Suga.

“It doesn’t matter,” Suga shook himself out of the momentary slump. “I feel it, and for the first time I’m able to tell it to the man that I love, so I’m not going to stop. It’s wonderful, exciting and scary, but rewarding to tell someone you love them, such a relief, and I’m not going to stop saying it just because Oikawa doesn’t feel as strongly for me. Yet.”

Daichi studied Suga’s expression, the determination and adoration, the fear and the happiness, all intermixing, twisting his brow into a small frown and curling his lips into a small smile.

He had to agree with Suga – it was scary and exciting to tell someone you loved them, and absolutely wonderful too _when_ they said it back. He could remember the first time he’d confessed to Hajime, how nervous he had been, but simultaneously absolutely certain of his feelings and more than just bursting at the seams trying to contain his tongue so he didn’t just blurt it out.

And he knew that Suga had never said it to his exes – even if he’d felt it, something had kept him from confessing. But now that he had had the courage, the confidence to confess to Oikawa, the man had the audaciousness not to say it back?!

“But Suga, he already loves you.” Daichi tried to assure him, speaking softly and tilting his head so to gauge Suga’s eyes. “He’s been in love with you for months, so ridiculously head over heels for you. He’s just being a pussy –“

Suga sputtered at the choice of word, and Daichi paused briefly to grin at the sound, seeing Suga’s sudden elation.

“Once he gets his nerves gathered and manages to pull his head out of his own ass, he’ll say it to you.”

Suga shook his head almost infinitesimally. “It’s okay if he doesn’t feel the same way yet.” He smiled softly, seemingly content on how things were between him and Oikawa. And yet, there was a tense line in Suga’s shoulders, telling Daichi that there was more on Suga’s mind. “He’ll say it when he feels it,” Suga still added confidently and with a soft sigh.

“Suga –“ Daichi was about to further assure him that the feelings were most definitely reciprocated, but was interrupted by Iwaizumi.

“Daichi, please tell Kuroo that I’ve topped you.”

Suga sputtered again at the sudden disruption, of what the cause for it was, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle his laughter.

Daichi, however, was gasping due to the shock. He looked from Iwaizumi to Kuroo and back multiple times. “What the hell, Hajime?” he hissed.

“Come on, just tell him.” Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around Daichi’s shoulders from behind, his tone and behavior loving, his fingers trailing across the shirt covered collarbones, draping over Daichi’s back to place his chin gently on his shoulder.

Daichi basked in the attention and not so subtly displayed affection, but couldn’t help but tease a little at the sight of Suga’s delight. “But you know that I don’t like to lie.”

Suga was full on laughing now, his arms folded over his stomach and head tilted back from the force of his amusement.

“Daichi, don’t do this to me,” Iwaizumi moved to stand at his side, his arm around Daichi’s shoulders, a scowl starting to form on his features.

“Do what?” Daichi asked innocently, and grinned with mischief when he heard the frustrated way Iwaizumi exhaled through his nose.

Suga was still giggling, threatening to fall from the chair.

“I’ve topped you.” Iwaizumi said seriously, sending Suga to the floor with his ever growing laughter, so loud it alerted others attention to them. “And you need to tell that to Kuroo.” Iwaizumi demanded in a low voice, his eyes boring into Daichi’s.

“I don’t remember this,” Daichi faked his memory loss, shaking his head as if he was at an utter loss of what Iwaizumi was talking about. “Was I sleeping when this occurred?” he frowned a little ‘trying’ to remember.

Iwaizumi’s expression turned darker and the hand that had been on Daichi’s shoulder dropped.

“What’s so funny?” Yaku came from the living room. “Why is Suga rolling on the floor?” he glanced down to the laughing mess there.

“Because –“ Suga started, but was cut off by his own amusement, laughing harder and louder than before, apparently the explanation for his hilarity driving him further into the chuckle-ville. “Because- “ he tried again but to no avail.

Yaku looked on with an amused grin and a cocked eyebrow from Suga to Daichi for answers.

But Daichi ignored him, made eye contact with Iwaizumi instead and moved his eyes to Suga and then back. Iwaizumi followed his eye line to Suga, his brow twisted for a fraction of a second, and when he looked back to Daichi, he seemed to have understood that the act was for Suga’s amusement, to make him feel better, the aha-moment evident in Iwaizumi’s eyes.  

Satisfied that Iwaizumi had comprehended what he’d attempted with the teasing, Daichi wrapped his arm around Iwaizumi’s back to bring him to his side, hand steady on his waist. “Kuroo,” he called for the man’s attention in the living room and he turned on the couch. “Why are you tormenting my boyfriend?”

Iwaizumi wrapped his arm around his back as well, leaning against his side.

“He lied that he’s topped you,” Kuroo answered matter-of-factly and returned to bothering Kenma with the cat toy, a stick with a feather at the end of it, that he must’ve manufactured from thin air, or carried with him wherever he went and Daichi didn’t want to think of the possible reasons why the man would do so, while Kenma lazily swiped at it now and then when it was too bothersome.

Suga sputtered on the floor again, his laughter slowly dying down, just breathless little giggles now erupting from him.

“He didn’t lie.” Daichi stated, as serious and to the point as he could.

“What?” Kuroo whirled to look at him, got up and dropped the cat toy on the couch and came to the kitchen as well, stepping over laughing Suga. “You’ve actually let Iwaizumi top you?”

Cue more laughter from Suga, his sweet and wonderful giggles truly filling up the air and brightening the room, causing Daichi’s own mood to rise and a subconscious smile to spread wider on his lips, even though he was a little worried that Suga would choke or wouldn’t be able to breathe anymore.

“When you wouldn’t let me do that?” Kuroo asked incredulously and slammed his hand on top of the kitchen island.

“Well, I love him,” Daichi shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal that he’s bottomed. Which it wasn’t. He just preferred to top. “And it was only once.”

“That bad huh?” Kuroo asked with a pitying smirk.

Daichi could’ve sworn he heard Iwaizumi growl next to him, but he couldn’t be sure when the kitchen was filled with Suga’s breathless giggling and delighted feet swinging and kicking on the floor.

“No, it was good,” Daichi corrected, and when he felt a pinch at his side, amended, “Great, amazing. The best fucking I’ve ever received.”

Suga snorted on the floor, clearly disbelieving Daichi’s best efforts to convince Kuroo that he had enjoyed bottoming. Which he had.

Kuroo leaned back with narrowed eyes, arms folded in front of his chest. “Bullshit.”

“I’m not lying,” Daichi replied steadfastly.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Who cares?” Iwaizumi asked.

“You, apparently,” Kuroo pointed out with a smirk. “Anyway, it’s not like it matters if you’ve topped. It won’t change the fact that Daichi is the ultimate power top.”

“Aye-aye,” Suga chimed in from the floor, saluting.

The corner of Daichi’s lip ticked up with a satisfied smirk. “You want to go home?” he turned to ask from Iwaizumi, who nodded in response.

“Bye Suga,” Iwaizumi said stepping over his silently vibrating body as he tried to exorcise the laughter out of his body.

“Bye,” Suga flapped his hand at him in a lazy wave.

 _Why does he seem drunk?_ Daichi wondered idly as he crouched down next to him. _Maybe he’s drunk with laughter._

He bent down to hug Suga, who wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“He loves you,” Daichi whispered, returning to their earlier conversation topic. He didn’t want to leave with Suga feeling unloved, something that just wasn’t true. He raised his head up to look at Suga. “He really does, remember that.”

Suga smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Daichi.” He said softly and patted Daichi’s cheek. “Now go and let Hajime fuck you against a wall.”

Daichi couldn’t help the helpless little sputter of surprise that he let out at the suddenness of Suga’s deadpan suggestion. “Suga!”

“What? Like I don’t know that’s how it happened the first and only time.” Suga cocked his eyebrow knowingly.

Daichi wasn’t sure how to react, _what to say,_ but let go of Suga and stood up, warily looking at him. “You’re dangerous.”

Suga smirked, mischief glimmering in his eyes. “Bye,” he sang with a happy smile.

Daichi returned the goodbye with a warm smile of his own and stepped over Suga as well as he headed towards the front door.

“Hajime! Fuck Daichi against a wall!” Suga called after them.

Iwaizumi grinned slowly at Daichi, who rolled his eyes.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Daichi commented in a low voice as he wrestled his feet into the shoes without opening the laces.

“Not even his home,” Iwaizumi agreed.

“Definitely not,” Daichi huffed and straightened. “Bye everyone,” he called then to the living room and got a chorus of goodbyes from everyone.

“So... What was that with making Suga laugh?” Iwaizumi inquired when the front door was closed and they started to descend the stairs.

“Oh,” Daichi wondered if it was okay to tell Iwaizumi. Suga hadn’t said anything about telling others, and while Daichi had no intention of letting others know that Oikawa was still yet to fully confess his love to Suga, maybe it was okay for Iwaizumi to know. “I didn’t want him to look so sad.”

“Why is he sad?” Iwaizumi asked with a worried frown.

“Because Oikawa is selfish and hasn’t told Suga he loves him.”

“Okay, so?”

“When Suga has said the words to him, multiple times.” Daichi glanced at Iwaizumi.

“Okay, I get it now.” Iwaizumi made a serious nod, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “Want to get involved in it?”

“Nah,” Daichi shook his head. “What would it help?”

 

 

...

 

 

“Where have you been fancy pants?”

Oikawa grinned as he closed the apartment door, holding onto his ‘secret’, his job prospect that was more than just a ‘prospect’ at this point.

“Have you been here the whole day?” He deflected the question away from him, took his shoes off and stepped into the living room to join the party.

He eyed the crowd situated on the couches, their gazes on whatever they were watching, more or less the same freeloaders that had already been there when he had left eight hours ago, no one sitting where Oikawa had left them, except Kenma, who was still curled in the same spot at the end of the new couch, but now he had an appendix – Hinata curled like him but pressed on his back, like a kitten and a puppy sleeping next to each other.

“Why would we leave when you have so much to eat?” Bokuto asked with wide innocent eyes.

“If we leave, how are we ever going to be able to empty the fridge?” Kuroo added.

“I’m pretty sure that the fridge isn’t there just to be emptied,” Oikawa quipped.

“Of course not,” Kuroo agreed, his tone pointing out the obviousness. “It is also there to be filled by you and Suga.”

“Where is Suga?” Oikawa asked then, looking around him, to the hallway.

“He went out,” Akaashi answered.

Oikawa turned to look at him. “Out where?”

“Didn’t say,” Akaashi continued to provide information. “Just said he was going out.”

Oikawa nodded, accepting what Akaashi said and brought his phone out of his pocket, to send a quick message to Suga to find out where he was, if he was coming home soon.

“Do you want to watch volleyball with us?”

Oikawa glanced up from his phone at Hinata’s question, realized they were watching an old game. “Why are you watching this game? This was years ago,” he asked while he finished the text.

“For fun,” Bokuto answered with a grin.

“To make fun of the hairstyles,” Kuroo said.

“Like you have any right to make fun of their hairstyles,” Kenma pointed out in a quiet voice.

“And you do?” Kuroo asked back.

“I haven’t made fun of them,” Kenma replied calmly, yawning into his sleeve covered hand.

Kuroo eyed Kenma, his mouth in a purse as he seemed contemplate the quiet man. And picked up the cat toy – seriously, where did it originally come from? – and started to tickle Kenma’s face with the feather, his mouth in a lazy grin.

“Oikawa? Are you going to watch with us?” Bokuto reminded him.

“Yeah,” he responded with a smile. “I’ll just change my clothes.”

Oikawa took a quick peek into Suga’s room before he went to his own room, to find out if Suga had taken a camera with him. Which he had, of course. The man rarely left without one, or went anywhere without.

A quick wash up and a clothing change later, Oikawa was back in the living room, where Kuroo was still bothering Kenma with the feather cat toy, causing giggles to erupt from Hinata as he watched how his lazy boyfriend made faces at the annoyance.  Oikawa went straight to the new couch to claim space there, squeezing between Kuroo and Kumamon, lying half on top of it. He could swear it smelled of Suga.

“So, why are you really watching this game?” Oikawa asked as he had situated himself comfortably. He remembered watching the same game when he was maybe six or seven years old, a little after he had learnt the rules at his first practice ever.

“Just for fun,” Bokuto answered, still looking so happy about it. “We do this whenever we can’t come to a compromise on anything else to watch, so we just pick any old game, like drawing a name from a hat.”

“We’ve watched this particular game about ten times already,” Akaashi said, wrestling himself to sit between Bokuto’s legs, surprising Oikawa with the needy display. Bokuto seemed happy about the way Akaashi demanded the attention in his silent way.

Oikawa met Kuroo’s eyes, and they shared a short moment of mutual longing for their significant others.

All that was missing was Hanamaki and Matsukawa coming in with their telepathic connection.

Oikawa almost cursed out loud when the former of the two entered a moment later, but he held his tongue when he noticed that the man came alone.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his amusement poorly hidden and very much audible in his tone when Hanamaki fell face first on the floor, as if the life had been drained out of him and his soul had left his body.

“Mattsun’s parents are here,” Hanamaki mumbled his answer against the floor, lying on his stomach like a starfish, or a dead sloth.

Everyone else had expressions of confusion on their faces, while Oikawa breathed with understanding.

“What’s wrong with them? Do they not know that you two are dating?” Kuroo asked what everyone else must’ve been thinking as well.

“No, they know,” Hanamaki drawled, his words still mumbled. “They’re just...” He trailed off and lifted his head up. “Overbearing.”

A collective “oh” was breathed in the living room and Hanamaki dropped his head back down.

“I said I’m going to the store to buy... I don’t even remember what I told them I was going to get, but I’m here to buy more time.”

“Stay as long as you need to,” Oikawa told him, knowing from years of experience exactly how overbearing Matsukawa’s parents were. Especially his father, who had high hopes for his son, and who would not be happy hearing that Matsukawa had quit his job. It really was no wonder that Hanamaki had come to find refuge. Matsukawa could handle his parents on his own just fine, and it was most likely better that Hanamaki wasn’t there when he told the news to his parents.

“Have you realized yet how lucky you are that Suga’s mother is Akiko-san?” Kuroo asked from Oikawa, knowing eyes demanding a reply.

Oikawa smiled, with slightly tight lips. He did know how lucky Suga was, and now by extension he was, that Akiko was so tolerant and open-minded, although peculiar too, and sometimes downright odd, but Oikawa rather thought that that only added to her unique charm.

Kind of like Suga.

Who came home _very_ late – well, not very late but late enough for Oikawa to worry more and more the longer he went without a reply to his message. Was Suga mad at him for keeping his ‘job interview’ a secret? Was Suga punishing him for that?

Oikawa would’ve asked when what was going on when he came home, but didn’t feel like doing it in front of everyone else. And not when Suga smiled so sweetly at him the second he stepped inside the apartment and their eyes met, as if instantly magnetized and pulled towards each other.

“Hey,” Suga might’ve said to everyone, and everyone returned the greeting but his eyes were still locked with Oikawa, who instinctively smiled back. Suga made his way across the living room to Oikawa and bent down to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. Too chaste in Oikawa’s opinion, who was already ready to pull Suga into his lap if he hadn’t pulled away.

“This is so weird,” Kuroo commented in a loud whisper, his voice giving Oikawa the mental image of the man sitting behind some bushes in a nature documentary, watching a rare animal do what they usually did.

“I know,” Bokuto agreed, as if he was the camera men filming the man in the bushes.

 Oikawa glanced towards the spectators. “Shut up.”

He received giggles in response, as if it was oh so funny that he was a little grumbled that they found it weird that he and Suga would kiss.

“Honestly, this is a little weird for me too,” Suga surprised him, speaking gently and with a soft smile.

“Why?” Oikawa asked him.

“Because they’re all staring at us,” Suga whispered, and another glance proved Suga’s words to Oikawa.

Everyone was looking at them with various expressions of interest, except Hanamaki who was still plastered to the floor and biding more than enough time, as if they were watching the entertainment of the night, smiling as if they were enjoying the show and with wide, curious eyes steadily following everything Oikawa and Suga did.

“You’re right,” Oikawa turned his head back to look up to Suga. “Creepy.”

Suga nodded with a smile that suggested that he didn’t really mind being the animal in the cage at the zoo too much, and it helped Oikawa ease back into their own little moment, shared just between the two of them.

“Hey, so,” Oikawa tugged on the hem of Suga’s shirt like a needy child. “Where were you?”

“Just out,” Suga answered. “Ran into a friend and we caught up over a cup of coffee.”

“And your phone doesn’t work?”

“My phone?” Suga frowned subtly as he dug into his bag, and a moment later pulled out his phone. “Oh,” he breathed when he must’ve seen the text notification. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“It’s okay,” Oikawa believed him. It wasn’t the first time that Suga hadn’t noticed a message, or a call, when he was out and about with his camera.  

“Want to join us?” he asked, still tugging on Suga’s shirt and subtly hooking his finger through a belt loop of Suga’s jeans.

Suga glanced at the tv, in middle of checking who else had needed him via the cell phone.

“We’re watching a game that happened about twenty years ago and everyone is excited to find out who wins, as if none of us knows what the score ends up.” Oikawa explained the dated looks and the slightly grainy image.

“No, I’m beat,” Suga smiled apologetically. “I’m just going to go to bed.”  

“Are you sure?” Oikawa had hoped to spend time with Suga, to actually touch him, maybe just sit snuggled up on the couch and make fun of everyone else in the living room in a way that was only theirs.

“Yeah,” Suga whispered, gave another kiss on Oikawa’s lips with a hand behind his head and wished good night to everyone else.

Only when Oikawa couldn’t see Suga anymore, only then he returned his focus back to the game, laughed with everyone when a player received a ball with their face, twice.

“Did anyone else find it weird that Suga didn’t specify who he had coffee with?” Kuroo asked just after the faint sound of a closed door.

“Why do you find it weird?” Akaashi asked, looking unbothered and simultaneously extremely contented to be in Bokuto’s arms.

“He usually says, that’s all,” Kuroo shrugged, his eyes focused on the tv, his appearance just as unbothered as Akaashi’s.

But Kuroo’s question had poked on something in Oikawa’s mind, and he started to wonder on _who_ had Suga had coffee with. Kuroo was right – Suga usually specified with a name who he hang out with. It was, sadly admittedly, a little suspicious that Suga had decided to hide his hangout buddy.

“Maybe he met with Yamaguchi, and decided not to tell us his name because Suga knows you and you would definitely start to cry because just a mention of Yamaguchi’s name would remind you of Tsukki, who you miss and are those tears in your eyes, Kuroo?” Bokuto teased.

“No,” Kuroo said, putting up a strong front, only for it to crumble and form into a wail. “I miss him!” he cried out, reaching his hands towards Kenma to shake him, and by extension Hinata along with him.

Oikawa chuckled, a low sound coming from the back of his throat, at the overly emotional display, and glanced towards the hallway. He could faintly hear the shower running, just barely with Kuroo wailing so loudly and over the top.

“We get it, Kuroo, you miss him,” Oikawa told him and threw one of the throw pillows at him. It satisfyingly hit Kuroo straight to his face, when thrown from right next to him, and fell into his lap. “Now shut up.”

Kuroo retaliated by sticking his tongue out. “As if you wouldn’t cry too if Suga went away for work for weeks.”

“I wouldn’t,” Oikawa protested with an air of superiority, knowing fully well that he definitely would express his longing for Suga just as extravagantly as Kuroo had, if not more so, louder and to a bigger audience. Maybe skywrite it, put up an ad in the paper, trend a hashtag and write a song about missing Suga.

“Yeah, right.” Kuroo snorted, his tone expressing how little he believed Oikawa, and then sighed despondently. “Now I need snuggles,” he announced and fell sideways and on his stomach over Kenma’s body, interrupting the shorter man’s attempt at dissolving into the couch. “You don’t mind, Shrimp?” he checked from Hinata, his words muffled into Kenma’s hoodie.

Hinata laughed, but most probably because of Kenma’s annoyed expression, resembling remarkably a cat that was so done with all the bullshit that humans tried its patience with.

Oikawa was amused as well – Kuroo’s wiggling a silent plea for Kenma to reciprocate and hug him, comfort him, and Kenma’s resolve to just lie there and try and ignore his best friend’s insistence, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world – it was all very entertaining, and almost enough for Oikawa to miss the sound of a bathroom door opening and then a few seconds later the sound of Suga’s room door.

However, Oikawa had subconsciously waited for Suga to come out of the shower, and when he had his confirmation of it, he took off down the hallway without a word of an explanation to anyone else in the living room. He was almost certain that the eyes that followed him out of the living room belonged to Akaashi, but he didn’t let himself delve on it, but made his way straight to Suga’s room, opening the door and stepping inside without any manners or respect.

“Suga?” he had to ask once he closed the door after him and there was no sign of his boyfriend.

“Closet.”

Oikawa went to the source of the word, and found Suga pulling clothes on to sleep in.

“You don’t need to get dressed for me,” Oikawa flirted, leaning his shoulder to the doorframe of the closet. “I prefer you naked.”

Suga glanced quickly at him under his eyebrows, the look just as flirtatious as Oikawa’s words had been. “Not that I don’t enjoy the flirting with you,” Suga started slowly and pulled a shirt on, to Oikawa’s dismay. “But I’m really tired and about to keel over. Can we pick this up tomorrow?” he requested with a small smile, one of Oikawa’s favorites.

“Why are you so tired?” Oikawa asked, walking over to Suga’s bed to sit down as he waited for Suga to finish dressing up.

“I woke up early, and I didn’t sleep all too well,” Suga replied as he emerged from the closet as well. “By the way, where did you hide the Totoro hat after you tried it on last time? I couldn’t find it in the original place.”

Oikawa smirked. “Secret.”

“Another secret,” Suga said under his breath, rolling his eyes.

Oikawa’s smirk widened for a moment, before it was overtaken by his worry. “Why didn’t you sleep well? Is something wrong?” He chastised himself for not noticing the tiredness in Suga in the morning. He should’ve noticed it.

“No, not really,” Suga shook his head as he crouched down next to the bed and put his phone to recharge. “I think I’m just stressed. I don’t sleep well whenever I’m stressed.”

“Why are you stressed?” Oikawa asked softer now, hand reaching out towards Suga as he walked past him and his fingertips ghosting on Suga’s side and hip.

“Because of my mom,” Suga stopped moving to answer, casting a meaningful look at Oikawa. “She’ll arrive with all of her magnificence the day after tomorrow, and you’d be stressed too if it was your mom coming.”

“If my mother was coming, I’d be booking a trip around the world, burning the apartment down, and faking my death,” Oikawa said seriously, his tone dark to suggest how foreboding of a thought his mother’s visit would be.

Suga flashed a small smile, seemingly a little bit amused by Oikawa’s hallow statement.

“But your mother is so lovely and you haven’t been stressed before. Why are you suddenly so nervous of her coming?”

“You know why,” Suga said in a quiet voice, standing by Oikawa and running his hand slowly and tenderly down Oikawa’s cheek, looking at him with so much fondness and love that Oikawa could have created an entire Care-Bear universe with it.

“I thought you said she loves me.”

“She does, but it’s still scary to tell her we’re dating.”

“I’m just scared that you’ll pull a stunt like you did when _I_ had to tell everyone that we’re dating.”

Suga’s soft smile morphed into a wide grin, accompanied by a soft chuckle, and Oikawa thought that Suga was far too proud of himself for what he had done.

“I still haven’t fully forgiven you for that,” Oikawa reminded him, honestly joking – he had forgiven about two seconds after it had happened. “You’re still three million kisses away from absolution.”

Suga leaned down, his hands cradling Oikawa’s jaw, and gave him a chaste kiss. “I’m working on it,” he whispered, gave another kiss, and straightened away, leaving Oikawa thoroughly breathless with how much love Suga was showing and expressing and giving.

“Anyway,” Suga continued when he picked up his bag from the floor and dug his camera out. “A couple of exciting days are coming and I’m just a little bit anxious. I hate the wait.”

“So, it’s not just about your mom?”

“No,” Suga shook his head again as he popped the memory card from the camera and set it down carefully next to his laptop on the desk. “And just because I’m nervous about my mom, doesn’t mean that you need to be,” he spoke as he went to replace the camera to it’s place on the shelf. “I’m pretty sure she prefers you over me –“

“She doesn’t,” Oikawa denied, but Suga kept speaking as if he hadn’t said a word.

“ – and she’ll think that I don’t deserve you.”

“She’s right,” Oikawa interrupted again, and this time he received a shining smile from Suga.

“And you’re going to graduate and she’s going to cry, and I’m going to cry and it’ll just be a big wet mess,” Suga finished, blinking slowly, probably due to exhaustion, as he nudged the camera just a tad so it was in a straight row with the other cameras.

Oikawa chuckled fondly, already looking forward to seeing his favorite people get emotional over his achievements.

“Where’d you end up today?” he thought to ask when Suga nudged another camera that had somehow mysteriously gotten out of the assigned position and was outrageously objecting drill commands.

“Hm?”

“I thought you were out taking photos.”

“Oh,” Suga breathed in a sleepy state and continued to move around his room, tending to other little tasks here and there. “I was, for a while, but then I ran into Terushima.”

Oikawa froze didn’t breathe, didn’t think. “Did you hang with him?” He asked in a low voice, already knowing that he wouldn’t like the answer, no matter what it would be, because he knew what the answer would be. This was Suga, the always-nice-and-kind-even-when-he-was-the-devil’s-span-Suga.

“We went for coffee,” Suga replied, too easily in Oikawa’s opinion. “Well, not coffee because I had tea, but you know what I mean.”

Oikawa watched Suga closely as he did this and that, just little things that had developed over the years into a habit for him to do before sleeping.

“So, when I was home waiting for you to come home too, waiting for you to reply to my message, you were out on a date with Terushima?” Oikawa asked for a clarification, for an explanation for the sequence of events that had led to Suga going for coffee with his ex.

“Don’t say it like that,” Suga said tiredly, falling to lie on his side on the bed, one of his legs thrown carelessly over Oikawa’s lap, snuggling a pillow with his arms to his chest and looking down to the foot of the bed, to Oikawa.

“Like what?” Oikawa asked back with a frown, getting a little mad at Suga for being so cavalier about hanging with his ex.

“Like you think I cheated on you.” Suga looked at him pointedly with tired eyes, as if that would convince Oikawa that no such thing happened, that he was crazy to even think that Suga would ever cheat on him, with  Terushima too.

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

“Tooru, do you really think I would ever do that to you?”

Oikawa didn’t answer, just pushed Suga’s leg off his lap and stood up, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Suga sat up, quite hurriedly, as if he was worried that Oikawa was so distraught by this new information. “It was just a cup of tea for me and coffee for him, swapping life stories and sharing a couple of laughs because of some mishaps that had happened and because of a fun thing that someone said to someone who heard them incorrectly and it led to a misunderstanding. That’s all. We didn’t even touch. You could have fit a broom sideways between us at all time.” Suga explained in a calm voice, but with a hint of urgency in his tone to make sure that there were no misunderstandings between the two of them, to comfort Oikawa that nothing shady had happened.

“That doesn’t erase the fact that you chose to hang with him instead of your actual friends, or I don’t know, maybe your boyfriend.”

Suga sighed, falling back to the bed. “Can we talk about this more tomorrow? I’m exhausted and I really don’t feel like fighting with you.”

Suga did sound tired, and looked it too, and Oikawa knew he must be exhausted if he was ready to push off their ‘fight’ to the next day.

“You think I want to fight with you?” He couldn’t help but ask, though. Suga’s words had rubbed him off the wrong way, as if Suga had alluded that Oikawa wanted this instead of having a lovely evening with his boyfriend.

“That’s not what I meant,” Suga sighed. “I’m just really tired and I’m afraid that if we have this discussion now, it’ll turn uglier than it needs to be. And maybe you need time to get over whatever it is that you’re thinking right now.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t gone out with Terushima,” Oikawa snapped.

“Tooru –“

“No, we’ll talk tomorrow, like you wanted,” Oikawa refused to hear the soothing tone Suga had suddenly adapted. He refused to be soothed from his seething anger and boiling jealousy and marched to the door.

“Tooru – “ Suga tried again, but Oikawa didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to admit that Suga was right that they should both sleep on it.

“Goodnight,” he said tersely before Suga could get another word in, and closed the door after him harsher than needed to.

Oikawa was already regretting the fight he had – quite ashamedly – started as he went back to the living room. He was so deep in his head he didn’t fully register that the spot where Hanamaki had been morphing into the floor was vacant until he stepped where his friend’s head would’ve been had he not plucked the courage to return to his own home, or so Oikawa assumed about the disappearance – unless Hanamaki had developed a skill as he had mentally synched with the floor to slip through floorboards or walk through walls.

“Is everything okay?” Kuroo asked, lifting his head from Kenma’s stomach, when he noticed him.

“Yeah,” Oikawa lied with a convincing smile. “Just tucked Suga in.”

Kuroo smiled back, dropped his head to back, and returned his gaze back to the game.

Oikawa didn’t see Suga again that night, and even went to his own bed instead of to Suga’s, hiding under his covers as if that would erase how quickly he had jumped to the worst possible scenario, and how quickly he had accused Suga of doing something horrible to him.

Because Suga would never, Oikawa knew that, and yet, he was jealous, and it always, _always,_ twisted his thoughts into something ugly.

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

He still felt like shit in the morning, like scum of the earth for thinking that Suga could cheat on him. And yet, the knowledge that Suga had been hanging with Terushima had kept Oikawa awake through the night, he had barely slept and was too tired to think of the matter from any other angle than his own. He couldn’t help but wonder how often Suga met up with Terushima, whether it was accidental or just a coincidence.

“Round two?”

Oikawa was pulled from his dark thoughts by the sound of Suga’s more-timid-than-usual voice and looked up from the cup of coffee he was stirring by the kitchen counter.

“No need,” he replied, and accepted the hug Suga gave to his side, and the small kiss on his shoulder. “As long as you don’t hang out with Terushima anymore, we’re good.”

“Are you serious?” Suga sounded incredulous, as if he couldn’t comprehend why Oikawa would ask for such a thing. He was leaning back away from Oikawa, but his arms still around his waist. “He’s a friend.”

“Then I’m sure you don’t mind me hanging with my ex?”

Suga let go of him and took a couple of steps back, looking adorable with sleep still clinging onto him and with how baffled he looked over Oikawa’s request. “Who? Iwaizumi?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Oikawa sipped his coffee, fixing Suga with a smug look over the rim of it.

“Tooru, don’t do this,” Suga pleaded softly.  

“What?” Oikawa feigned innocence, licking some coffee off of his lips. “I thought you didn’t want to fight, so let’s not fight, and let’s just hang with our exes as much as we want, never disclosing what we do with said exes.”

“I told you what I did with Terushima. Had a cup of tea,” Suga said with a hint of exasperation, turning slightly away to fill the kettle with water.

Oikawa could already see where this was heading, but for some reason he couldn’t make himself deviate from the chosen course, his jealousy turning him into a monster that kept up with the quite hostile interrogation and admittedly a bit unfair request.

“And I’m supposed to just believe that?” He asked, following Suga with his eyes that took note of everything – every little nuance in voice and even smaller change in body talk.

“How could you not?” Suga asked sincerely, reaching for a cup in the cupboard. “Why would you – No, how could you accuse me of lying?”

Oikawa shrugged, pretending to be unaffected. “I haven’t been proven otherwise.”

“Okay, fine,” Suga slammed his cup down onto the counter with so much strength behind it that Oikawa was surprised it didn’t break in half. “You want to fight, let’s fight.”

Oikawa raised his eyebrow as he looked at the surprisingly unchipped and still unbroken cup on the counter, silently judging Suga’s outburst. “But I don’t want to fight,” he said with an exaggerated smirk, with his smug tone too airy to be anything but sinister and the end product of some very dark thoughts.

“Well, I do, if you’re going to presume that I lie to you.”

“How can you prove to me that you’re not lying? That you only drank some tea?” Oikawa’s voice lifted at the end, adding teasing into it, wholly establishing that he didn’t fully believe Suga.

“You’re just going to have to trust me,” Suga said softly, all the fight that had been in him only a second ago gone in a blink of an eye, as if he let it go with one soft exhale, looking at Oikawa with pleading eyes, asking for Oikawa to believe him.

“How can I when you hang out with your ex like it’s nothing?”

“This cannot be happening again.” Suga ran his fingers through his hair and started to stalk back and forth in the kitchen, his eyes on the floor, as if he really, honestly couldn’t believe what was happening, couldn’t comprehend something. “You can’t keep throwing your jealousy about Terushima to my face like this,” Suga stopped his trudging and lifted his head up to look at Oikawa. “He’s just a friend. There’s nothing going on between me and him. I don’t have any feelings for him. I’m with you. I love _you.”_  

The confession of love stung Oikawa a little, but he was so far from the line, he didn’t even recognize it anymore. “If you don’t feel anything for him, it should be easy for you to stop seeing him.”

“You’re not being fair,” Suga said quietly, his eyes wide and shining with wetness.

“I don’t care,” Oikawa shrugged. He stood his ground, willing himself not to give in at the sight of Suga’s eyes swimming in tears, waiting for Suga to comply.

What followed was a staring competition. Not one to be written into history books about, nor a tale of legends or heroics, but still significant enough in the small scale of their lives that Oikawa knew it would come to shape their relationship. It wouldn’t be noticeable immediately – the change would be so small that it would take months, maybe even years to find out about. But he was confident, that if they made it through this, no matter who gave up on the staring first, they could make it through anything.

“You’re going to be late for your hang out with Iwaizumi,” Suga gave up first, his tone downright miserable and lifeless as he placed the unused and still clean, and miraculously unbroken, cup into the sink. “I’ll see you later,” he said then, without looking at Oikawa, and disappeared into the hallway.

Oikawa didn’t stop him from leaving; he didn’t want to continue the fight. He could recognize similar dejected feelings in himself too as he watched with regret Suga walk away from him.

But he had faith, so much faith, in the two of them, he knew they could get over this fight.

It was just Terushima they were fighting about after all. What was he so jealous about really? Suga had never expressed any desire to get back with the man. There really was no reason for him to be jealous, and maybe, _maybe_  with a capital M, he could come to terms with Suga hanging with his ex. At least he hoped so when he heard Suga’s door close, the sound just as quiet and barely there as Suga’s spirit after the staring contest had been.

 

 

...

 

 

It was hours later when Suga had found his way to the living room with his favorite book. He needed a distraction from his fight with Oikawa, and the book had never failed to enthrall him with the intricate storytelling, the adventures the protagonist went on, the fantasy world filled with so many colors there weren’t names for all of them.

But he still kept hoping for something else, something more.

He wasn’t sure if his wishes were answered when the front door opened and he saw Kuroo walk in, but it was better than nothing. There was a look in Kuroo’s eyes that told Suga he wasn’t there just to eat this time, and he mentally prepared himself to relinquish his comfortable reading position – curled up on his side and hugging a pillow, his leg hanging over the armrest of the couch.

“Hey, Suga!” Kuroo said with a grin that was slightly off as he took a glancing look around. “Where’s Oikawa?”

“Iwaizumi,” Suga answered without looking away from the book, simultaneously sitting up in preparation to put it away.

“Is something wrong?” Kuroo surprised him by asking.

“No,” Suga answered honestly, feeling a little shocked that Kuroo would even ask and wondering why he would do so. “Why?”

“You didn’t smile when I mentioned Oikawa’s name,” Kuroo explained, sitting down on the adjacent couch, his arms spread on the back of it, his seemingly relaxed position too put on and obviously tense. “You usually smile, this subconscious adorable happy little smile, whenever someone mentions Oikawa.”

“Oh,” Suga breathed, looking down to his lap. He didn’t know he did that, wasn’t even a little bit aware of it, but it made sense to him that he would smile upon hearing Oikawa’s name. The man made him happy, so why wouldn’t he smile?

“So, back to my original question, is something wrong?”

Suga was silent for a moment, staring at the open book in his lap. He inhaled deep, closed the book and raised his eyes to Kuroo. “We had a fight.”

“About?”

“I went to coffee with Yuuji.”

“Your ex?” Kuroo asked pointedly. “No wonder you fought.”

“You think I shouldn’t have gone to have a cup of coffee with my friend to catch up?”

“He might be a friend to you,” Kuroo said calmly, but Suga could hear the tenseness of disapproval in his voice. “But to Oikawa he is your ex. I’m not surprised that you fought about it.”

“You think it’s okay for him to forbid me from seeing Yuuji?”

“No,” Kuroo said, the word drawn out slowly. “But maybe you shouldn’t see him for a bit?”

“Kuroo –“

“He’s your ex, Suga,” Kuroo interrupted immediately, quite harshly, probably guessing how Suga would have tried to reason his hanging with his friend/ex-boyfriend. “And this thing with Oikawa is new. Let him get used to the relationship, to you two together, to build love and trust. Then, you can go out on a friend date with your ex.”

Suga eyed Kuroo with slightly narrowed eyes, unhappy to hear this. “How is it okay in Oikawa’s mind that I hang out with Akaashi, then? But it’s not okay for me to spend an hour, tops, drinking a cup of tea with Yuuji?”

“Because Akaashi is dating Bokuto?” Kuroo clearly guessed. Maybe he couldn’t decipher Oikawa’s reasoning of double standards either. “And you keep calling Terushima Yuuji.”

“Terushima is engaged.” Suga corrected his slip of a tongue too late.

But Kuroo didn’t seem to care about it, and moved on with his hypothesizing. “Maybe it’s because Oikawa can see Akaashi and Bokuto together, but hasn’t seen Terushima with his boyfriend? Fiance, whatever.” Kuroo guessed, again, the pondering of Oikawa’s reasons overtaking the disapproval in his voice. “All he knows of Terushima not being single is your word, and I’m pretty sure all you know about it is Terushima’s word.”

“They’re happy together,” Suga pointed out in a small voice. He hated fighting with Oikawa, and he really didn’t want to fight about the same thing over and over again, something which the topic of Terushima seemed to be becoming.

“I believe you,” Kuroo raised his arms in surrender. “But I’m not the one dating you.”

Suga threw his book onto the coffee table lazily, and it made a dull sound of a thump as it settled in one place.

“There’s something else on your mind too,” Kuroo commented then. And he was right, but –

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Suga shook his head weakly and rested his head back to the back of the couch, staring up to the ceiling as he sighed, pulling his legs up to the seat of the couch and circling his arms around his knees. He really didn’t want to think of how his confessions of love to Oikawa were repeatedly replied to with smiles, kisses and “I know”s.

“What about you?” Suga tilted his head against the back of the couch to look at Kuroo. “What’s going on with you?”

Kuroo grinned shortly, before his lips turned into a sad smile. “I miss Tsukki.”

“Where is he?”

“Someone found dinosaur bones somewhere in South America, so he went there to dig them up.”

“That’s so cool,” Suga said, smiling genuinely.

“Yeah, it is,” Kuroo admitted with a happier smile. “But he’s going to be gone for seven weeks and I miss him. What am I going to do?” he pouted.

“You’re going to miss him,” Suga stated, as if it was a task for Kuroo to do.

Kuroo’s pout intensified with a frown. “That’s not helpful.”

“And you’re going to call him, and text him, and you two are going to skype and sext.” Suga offered with a kind smile. “It’ll be okay, and before you know it, you’re going to be picking him up at the airport.”

“I already miss him,” Kuroo pouted more. “How am I going to survive seven weeks of not having him around?”

“You two are in a good place right?” Suga checked.

“Yeah, really good,” Kuroo grinned, probably thinking of the good place that he was in with Tsukishima.

“Then you’ll be okay,” Suga said confidently, absolutely believing it to be true. “He has a phone right? And internet access? Ways to keep in contact?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo breathed.

“Then you’ll be okay. This isn’t the first time that he’s been gone for weeks at a time.”

“No, it isn’t,” Kuroo confirmed. “But I still miss him.”

Suga smiled, endeared by how lovesick his friend was. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” he promised softly. 

Kuroo got up from the couch and came to sit on the same couch with Suga, pressing to his side and wrapping his arms around Suga. “Help me not miss him.”

“I have a boyfriend, Kuroo,” Suga laughed in the hug, at the tickling of Kuroo’s breath on his neck.

“Dump him. I’ll treat you better. I’ll let you be friends with Terushima.” Kuroo spoke against Suga’s shoulder, his weight pressing on Suga sideways onto the couch.

Suga laughed, knowing from Kuroo’s tone, and the fact that he was so in love with Tsukishima, that he was kidding.

“Can’t dump him,” Suga said, still laughing lightly until he sobered and Kuroo withdrew his arms from around him. “I love him.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Kuroo asked with a gentle smile, sitting back to regard Suga. “Have you told Oikawa so?”

“I have,” Suga smiled unwittingly, thinking how happy he felt.

“That’s a first, right?”

Suga hummed as he nodded, his fingers twirling a strand of his hair as he fell deeper into the rabbit hole with a sign in front that said ‘Tooru’, and delved further into his thoughts on loving Oikawa, and how multifaceted it was to love him, how many things it made him feel, and the uncertainty of the reciprocated feelings casting a looming shadow to it all.

“Why do you look sad?”

Suga closed his eyes. He didn’t want to tell Kuroo why he was sad, he didn’t want to reveal that it was because Oikawa was yet to say the three words to him.

“I just hate fighting with Tooru,” he said instead, as it was true as well.

“Don’t worry, Suga. You two will get over this Terushima thing.” Kuroo clasped his hand on Suga’s knee, petting it as if it was a hamster.

“At the expense of my friendship with Terushima.”

“Just give Oikawa a little more time to date you. You haven’t been a couple for more than a month. He’ll get used to the idea of you being friends with your exes.”

Suga sighed, hoping that Kuroo was right.

“Although, I have to admit that I agree with Oikawa.” Kuroo said then, looking up from Suga and out the window.

“About what?”

Kuroo looked back with a frown – not in disapproval but pure confusion. “Why do you want to be friends with Terushima? He broke your heart?”

“I’m friends with all my ex-boyfriends,” Suga pointed out sagely.

“Not Konoha.”

“Wasn’t a boyfriend.”

“Right, right. You just fucked until it blew in your faces.”

“Stop it.” Suga said sternly, and fixed Kuroo with a look that warned him not to go there. Konoha wasn’t a subject he ever enjoyed discussing, and especially not with Kuroo. Or with Bokuto and Akaashi since the two were still friends with Konoha.

Kuroo grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Besides, Akaashi broke my heart too, and I’m friends with him,” Suga continued with a normal tone of his voice, to let Kuroo know that they were over the subject as if it was never brought up.

“That’s a weak excuse. Bokuto was our friend. You and Akaashi didn’t really have any choice over the matter of remaining friends.”

“And Tooru broke my heart, but I still forgave him and want to be with him.”

“Because you love him.”

“Do you have a counterpoint to everything?” Suga asked with a frustrated but exhausted frown.

“Yes.”

Suga chuckled weakly, his breath light and exasperated.

“You have nothing as reasonable holding you to Terushima, and yet you choose to be friends with him. I don’t get it,” Kuroo said with a baffled shake of his head, as if he was truly lost.

“Apparently neither does anyone else,” Suga noted, blank and nondescript.

“Give Oikawa time,” Kuroo whispered, resuming the petting of Suga’s knee, and continued in his normal voice. “And maybe don’t see Terushima for a couple of months. Not until October. A good six month period. Or preferably never again. I’m sure Terushima will understand, unless he is just as shitty as I think he is.”

“You really don’t like him.”

Suga had assumed as much ever since the break up, but it was so subtle, especially when Terushima wasn’t even mentioned in any normal conversation in the friend group, that he had let himself forget it.

“He broke your heart. Why would I like him?” Kuroo asked, genuinely worried.

“You got along with him.”

“Suga, you never told your mother about him, and there must be a reason for that. Why do you want to be friends with him?”

Suga was quiet, not because he didn’t have an answer, but because he didn’t want to give the answer to Kuroo. He didn’t want to admit it out loud to anyone. It wasn’t because he held any romantic feelings towards Terushima anymore. It’s just that... Well, Terushima had understood a side of him that no one else ever had. About his photos, his opinion of himself as an artist. It felt good to talk to someone knowing that they understood it completely without having to try and explain it in words that were too complicated and nearly impossible to comprehend.

“Suga?”

Suga took a deep breath and looked to Kuroo. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Kuroo answered, taken aback by the sudden change of topic of conversation.

“Good, I’m hungry too,” Suga grinned at Kuroo and got up, heading straight to the kitchen, leaving Kuroo baffled on the couch watching after him.

“Suga?” Kuroo asked after a short moment, when Suga had already started prepping the food. “Do you still love Terushima?”

He asked it so carefully, as if he was afraid of Suga’s answer.

Suga had to halt in his actions for a moment, before he took a deep breath and continued, flashing a disarming smile over his shoulder towards Kuroo. “Why would I still love him? He broke my heart.”

“Suga – “

“I don’t love him,” Suga interrupted, speaking sincerely but seriously, before Kuroo managed to say more in his saddest tone yet. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Then I really don’t get it.”

“It’s okay,” Suga comforted in a gentler tone. “I didn’t expect you to.”

If Oikawa, who most likely knew Suga through and through, didn’t get it, how could Kuroo get it either?

Suga continued with the food – slicing and dicing, stirring and flipping, preparing them something easy and quick but still delicious – but with the added weight and feeling of Kuroo’s eyes boring through his back, digging through his skull to his innermost thoughts and wishes and secrets. It honestly made Suga’s skin crawl, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

He didn’t want to say anything about it. If he did, he knew that Kuroo would be prompted to ask more, to express more concern.

And Suga really wasn’t up to answering to any further questions of his reasons to keep seeing Terushima. He really would rather let the silence fill the apartment, oppressive and demanding to be acknowledged in the heavy feeling inside their bodies. He rather focused on the cooking, tried his best to ignore the eyes studying him and pretend that Kuroo wasn’t trying to read his thoughts, wasn’t observing him, not with just the alarming knowledge of Suga’s friendship with Terushima and the possible reasons for it, but also the sad smile that Suga had exhibited at the mention of Oikawa’s name, of his love for Oikawa.

“Does Terushima still love you?”

Suga nearly dropped the small bowl he was holding as he mixed the sauce with a spoon in it.

“You’re not seriously asking me that,” Suga chuckled as he collected himself, relaxing from his shocked posture and examining the mess he luckily avoided, if you didn’t count the few drops that had flown to the counter.

“There has to be a reason that he wants to hang with you,” Kuroo said pointedly, walking to the kitchen and perching himself by the island.

Suga turned away from Kuroo’s piercing gaze. “He said he wants to be friends.”

“Doesn’t exclude him from loving you.”

“He never loved me,” Suga said, his tone darker than he had intended.

“Are you sure?” Kuroo’s tone suggested that Suga shouldn’t be so absolutely sure about it.

Suga raised his gaze from the sauce to Kuroo, _because he wasn’t sure._ Terushima had never said it to him when they were dating. Only months later, when they’d reconnected at Terushima’s café, before his latest exhibit, had Terushima said that he had fallen in love with Suga back then. But that didn’t mean that he still loved Suga. Right?

“I’m sure. He’s in love with Futakuchi-san.” Suga went to the stove and added the sauce to the pan, actively forbidding himself from thinking further on the possibility of Terushima loving him.

“You can love two people at the same time. Not everyone is built to be monogamous like you. Or I,” Kuroo said, his tone so soft and wisened.

“I know that, but I’m sure he doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Suga,” Kuroo said, something in his voice calling for Suga to look at him, his tone suddenly lost all it’s previous softness, causing Suga to briefly wonder if he had imagined it earlier. “You’re a great friend, the best friend anyone could ever have and I’d be the first to admit that, even without pressing a gun to my head. But...”

Suga turned to look at Kuroo when he paused.

“It’s weird that he wants to remain friends with you after the break up. It’s different with Akaashi. You were friends with Bokuto before you and Akaashi broke up, and you remained to be friends when they started dating, and you never lost that connection you had with Akaashi, which, admittedly is weird too,” Kuroo spoke patiently, drawling at the end as he became more thoughtful.

“But that’s beside the point,” Kuroo shook his head, as if shaking himself from the sidetrack his thoughts were about to take. “The point is, that there has to be a reason that Terushima wanted to be your friend when he broke up with you, and I’m pretty sure it’s because he still loved you. Still loves you.”

Suga was speechless, and not in a good way. He was growing overwhelmed, unable to care about the sauce dripping to the floor from the large spoon he was holding just outside the pot.

“Maybe he fell in love with this other dude as well,” Kuroo started with a shrug. “And knowing that you would never be able to share him the way that he would willingly give himself to two people, he thought he’d spare your feelings and decided to break up with you. And maybe,” Kuroo ran his hand through his hair, “Since then, when he’d noticed that his fond feelings for you didn’t go away, he started to think – what if.” He tilted his head a little as his voice took a thoughtful air. “What if? ‘What if Suga still loves me too? What if I hang out with him and remind him how much fun I am? How I get him and his jokes and how we enjoy spending time together? Maybe Suga will come back to me.’” Kuroo spoke seriously, as if he meant every word, as if he had thought about this a lot more than just the short ten minutes they had spent in the silence previously.

Suga tightened his fist around the spoon handle, did something he rarely did, and cursed. “Fuck you!”

Kuroo’s eyes flew open and he leaned back, his hands reaching out in front of him as if he was shielding himself from and explosion and simultaneously trying to approach a lion. “No, Suga-“

“No. Fuck you!”

Suga threw the spoon into the sink and quickly walked out of the kitchen, ignoring Kuroo’s apologetic calls for him to stop and come back, and slammed his room door closed, forcing himself to breathe evenly so he wouldn’t burst into tears as he slid down to the floor, leaning his back to the door, his body starting to shake with the overwhelming feelings. With every word that Kuroo had spoken, something inside him had wrapped tighter and tighter with every word, until it couldn’t wrap anymore and it snapped.

He really wished he had something in his hand he could throw and break.

 

 

...

 

 

 

 

 

“There’s no rest for the wicked,” Suga murmured to himself as he went to the front door. He had spent an hours long while in his room, ignoring Kuroo’s apology voiced through the door, and telling himself over and over again that Kuroo was wrong – Terushima wasn’t in love with him anymore.

He hated Kuroo for what he had said. Well, maybe hate was the wrong word. Despised? No... Extremely disliked? A little better.

But the point was, that Suga didn’t want to see Kuroo again for a little while, maybe for an eternity, one or the other, Suga wasn’t too picky. And he desperately needed Oikawa to come home, to hug him and comfort him as he knew Oikawa would do now that they had spent some time apart cooling off from their fight. He knew Oikawa would do it without a question at the first sight of his tears.

He knew Oikawa must’ve cared about him at least that much, or he wouldn’t care about him hanging with Terushima. He knew Oikawa must’ve loved him at least a little or he wouldn’t feel threatened by Suga’s ex. Which was silly, and now Suga really needed someone to tell him, to convince him that Terushima didn’t love him.

He couldn’t.

There was no way.

Suga damned Kuroo to hell for the ninth time as he heard the knock again, just a few short steps away from the door. Assuming that it was Asahi, who always knocked as the mannerly gentleman that he was whenever he came over, Suga opened the door in a very carefree manner.

“Mom?” he asked with wide eyes, shocked and surprised to see his mother there.

“Hi, honey,” she smiled sweetly.

“How’d you get up here?” The downstairs door was always locked, and she didn’t have the key to it, at least according to Suga’s knowledge.

“Oh, I slipped in when one of your neighbors was leaving.”

“But what are you doing here? A day early?”

“Can’t a mother come and see her son?”

“A mother can.” Suga nodded. “You can’t.” He shook his head.

“Oh, hush you!” She playfully slapped Suga’s arm. “Come and give me a hug.”

“Will you go away if I refuse?”

His mother exhaled with exasperation, her head tilted to the side and hands on her hips. He smiled at the reaction, and opened his arms for a hug.

“Ungrateful son,” she muttered with a matching smile as she came to Suga to hug him tight, and Suga reciprocated the hug with his whole heart. But he was still reeling of his mother’s early arrival, at the most inopportune time.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she said as they let go, after a particularly tight squeeze.

“Truly blessed,” Suga said sarcastically, although he knew that _he was lucky._ “Why are you here early?” He picked up her suitcase from the hallway and closed the door, metaphorically doing the same on his thoughts about the talk with Kuroo, about Terushima, about the fight with Oikawa, while she took her shoes off.

“I wanted to spend a couple of extra days with my boys.” She turned to him with a challenging gaze. “Is that a crime?”

“My goodness, you’re weird,” Suga chuckled and shook his head, so unbelievably grateful and still shocked of her early arrival. “You actually voluntarily want to spend time with everyone.”

“Of course I do!” She exclaimed, as if there was no other option, as if nothing else would make her happier.

Suga smiled, still overwhelmed with how much was going on at the same time, and hugged his mother again.

“It’s great to see you,” he whispered into the hug, absorbing as much comfort and warmth as he could to drive the unwanted feelings of helplessness away.

 

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!!!!!!!  
> *checks to make sure that's enough exclamation marks by leaning over the gap between the two chairs to whisper to the person sitting next to me*  
> Not enough?  
> Here's some more  
> I'M SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Did you see that coming?  
> Anyway, if you think it came from out of the blue, I promise it didn't. At least not to me. Kuroo pointing out the weirdness of Terushima wanting to be friends with Suga has been in my plans ever since Terushima broke up with Suga and said he still wants to be friends. 
> 
> And then to add the curveball of Suga's mother coming a day early! When Suga's already fighting with Oikawa?  
> Poor Suga! I keep hurting him and I don't know why I'm so horrible to him?! Someone needs to hit me in the head with a really heavy psychology book and then shake me just because.  
> I'm honestly so sorry for the angst! *cries already*
> 
> to be continued:  
> Suga's mother is in the next chapter


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments on the last chapter! Sincerely, thank you :) 
> 
> I couldn't decide where to end this chapter, so there are two or three chapters rolled into one. This is really unbelievably long (90 pages! on word) and I hope you forgive me for the possible typos
> 
> Enjoy the roller coaster, and remember to keep your hands and feet inside the car, and most importantly, to scream at the top of your lungs
> 
> And I'm sorry for the cliffy but I did have to end the chapter _somewhere_

 

 

“Koushi, where is my favorite son?”

Suga grinned softly at his mother’s endearment for Oikawa as he took down two cups from the cupboard, and gently set them near the tea kettle. But he wanted to tease her a little for favoring Oikawa over him.

“Standing right in front of you.”

“No, the other one.”

Suga bit back his amusement over his mother’s blatant favoritism, his grin in his heart, but displayed on his lips as a small barely there smile. “Tooru isn’t here,” he replied calmly.

“Where is he?” she pressed again, repeating her question as she walked around the apartment, looking around, _getting the feel of the place,_ as she liked to call it whenever she came to visit. 

“He probably sensed that you were coming so he took off to avoid you,” Suga answered, following his mother movements with idle fascination – this wasn’t anything he hadn’t witnessed before after all – and returned to the tea he was preparing. “Just packed his things and left.”

“Koushi...” she drawled, amused ire in her tone.

“I really don’t know, mom.” Suga answered honestly, looking up to her. “Please stop cleaning,” he asked, watching how his mother arranged this and that on top of the coffee table and moved onto to replace the movies that had been left out by the tv to the shelf.

“It’s dusty in here,” she commented on the state of the shelves.

“You’re a day early. I would’ve cleaned today.” Suga defended the slightly messy state of their apartment. Oikawa hadn’t been in his obsessive compulsive streak in a while. At least Suga had vacuumed the day before.

“Do you really not know where Tooru is?” she asked, as if she couldn’t believe even in her wildest dreams that he wouldn’t know.

“He just said he’s going out.”

Akiko came to the kitchen then, and Suga could’ve sworn that he saw his mother eye the jackets and towels and hoodies and other various pieces of clothing that had been taken off upon arrival home or after shower that were then left and forgotten on the backs of the chairs. “Will he be gone long?” she asked, averting her gaze from the disarray and hanging her torso over the kitchen island, propping her chin on her closed fists. 

“I’m sure he’ll be back before dark, don’t worry,” Suga smiled softly, his mother’s caring warming his heart, as he placed one of the big tea cups in front of her and sat down next to her.

His mother beamed at him as a thank you for the tea as she sat down too. “Alright, then, you should invite everyone over for dinner. I’m going to feed my boys.” She threw her fist in the air, as if she was about to take on a quest.

“Mom, don’t exhaust yourself.”

“I won’t exhaust myself, don’t worry honey.” She cupped Suga’s cheeks. “You’re so sweet to worry about me. I just want to see everyone, hear how they’re doing.”

“You’ll see everyone at Tooru’s party,” Suga mumbled with his mother’s hands squishing his cheeks.

“I want to see them tonight.” She patted his cheek absently and headed to the fridge, probably to take stock of what ingredients they had in their kitchen, to know what to get from a store. “I’ve been looking forward to it for the whole long train ride.”

“Fine,” Suga relented and went to find his phone. He wasn’t sure where it was, but he was sure he’d find it somewhere. “I’ll let everyone know.”

“Thank you, darling,” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

“To find my phone,” Suga said as he stopped and turned to look at her. “I thought you wanted me to let everyone know they can eat for free, _again.”_  

“Where have you left it this time?” she asked with soft exasperation, a small amused smile playing on her lips. “In Tooru’s room again?”

Suga narrowed his eyes slightly at her question. Why would she mention Oikawa’s room specifically?

“I’m pretty sure I left it on my bedside table,” he muttered, still a little apprehensive of whether she already knew of him and Oikawa, and left his mother alone in the kitchen for a moment.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Oikawa heard the footsteps, and he hoped that it was someone he knew. He had sat in the coldish stairway for a while now, not a long while, but a while, and he was growing frustrated with his boredom. Even his cell phone and the multitude of social media apps, the games and whatever else he had downloaded on there didn’t offer anything worthwhile for him to do at the moment.

He heard a door open and close one floor down, and he sighed as he hugged his knees closer to himself. His eyes were cast down along the steps beneath him as he continued to wait. He must’ve spaced out for a moment, who knows for how long, when he recognized the shoes a couple of steps down from where he was sitting, paired with another set of footsteps approaching.

He didn’t need to look up to know who it was, and when Daichi patted his shoulder as he passed by him to open the door, and Oikawa got up with another deep sigh.

“Did Iwa-chan tell you I’d be here?” Oikawa inquired as he followed Daichi into the apartment.

“He sent me a text, said you might be moping in front of our door,” Daichi answered placidly as he tiredly kicked his shoes off and dragged himself to the bedroom.

Oikawa arranged both of their shoes neatly, desperate to do something, to organize anything so he would have something, anything else to think than just his fight with Suga, and sat down on the couch in the living room to wait for Daichi to come back.

“So, why were you moping in the stairway?” Daichi asked as he emerged, changed into something the man probably found more comfortable to be in when at home than his work clothes.

“I wasn’t moping,” Oikawa protested right away, coming off a little offended.

“What’s up?” Daichi bypassed his petulant huff with a straight-to-the-point –question, something he undoubtedly had picked up from Iwaizumi.

Oikawa regarded Daichi for a moment, evaluating his options with his mouth pursed. He hadn’t come here to talk to _Daichi_ exactly, but then again, maybe Daichi could offer some insight to what might’ve been going on inside Suga’s head.

Because, for the life of him, Oikawa couldn’t understand why Suga needed to be friends with Terushima, and quite so desperately too.

With a resigned sigh Oikawa moved so he was sitting more comfortably, and decided to just go for it.

“I had a fight with Suga-chan.”

“About Terushima?”

Oikawa was surprised, to say the least, that Daichi had guessed correctly right away, but he tried his best not to show his surprise, schooling his features into annoyed nonchalance, in other words, back to the expression he had been sporting since he entered the apartment, and what he usually did with Daichi around.

“How did you know?” Oikawa asked as calmly as a cloud would drift across the blue sky on a sunny day.

“Suga mentioned he ran into him.”

Oikawa frowned. “When did he have the time to tell you this?”

“Yesterday, when I called him. He said he was on his way home, that he’d bumped into Terushima by chance and they sat down to catch up for a while.”

Oikawa listened closely to how Daichi spoke, the tone of voice he was using.

“You don’t like it that Suga spends time with him,” he realized slowly, the note of irritation a clear sign of it in Daichi’s voice.

“Do you?” Daichi raised his eyebrow as he asked back. “Do any of us?” He asked then with a shrug, looking around as if he was searching for others’ opinion as well.

“Does Suga know that you don’t approve of him hanging with Terushima?”

“I don’t know, maybe, probably.” Daichi shrugged again, but much more defeated now. “But Suga is still going to do what he wants when he wants and how he wants. There’s nothing we can about it. If he wants to hang with Terushima, then that’s what he’ll do and everyone else will just have to deal with it.”

Oikawa was struck silent. As much as Daichi seemed to care for Suga, and generally didn’t seem to have anything against any of the choices Suga made about his life, the way he had accepted that he couldn’t tell Suga what not to do was almost awe-inspiring.

Almost.

Oikawa was sure Daichi’s lack of telling Suga no’s and yes’s was caused by years of friendship and of him _trying_ and _failing_ to do so. During the years, he must’ve noticed that Suga did as he pleased, and there was nothing he could do to change that, no matter how much he cared and worried, and that had caused him to just accept that Suga would do as he wanted, no matter what.

Oikawa looked away, and his eyes fixed on a corner of the carpet on the floor as he thought. There was still that one little question nagging at him at the back of his mind. He swallowed hard, trying to swallow the question down. He didn’t want to hear the answer if it might be something he wouldn’t like.

“Are you wondering _why_ Suga wants to be friends with him?” Daichi surprised Oikawa again with a question that cut straight to the point.

Oikawa glanced at him from his side-eye to make sure that he wasn’t teasing. Just because he didn’t hear it in Daichi’s voice didn’t mean the man wasn’t’ teasing him. But he actually looked really serious.

“Do you think Suga is still in love with Terushima?” Oikawa braved to ask, acting as if he would be unaffected, no matter what the answer was.

“No.”

Oikawa was instantly relieved by Daichi’s straight answer.

“But I’m pretty sure that Terushima is still in love with him.”

Oikawa paused in his relief.

“How could you tell?” he asked in a tone that suggested that there was no way Daichi could tell. If he hadn’t noticed, then how Daichi could have?  

“I could see it in the way he was looking at Suga at his exhibit.”

“Do you think –“ Oikawa cut himself off. He didn’t want Daichi to know how desperately he needed an answer, and his desperation was practically dripping in his voice.

“Do I think what?” Daichi prompted kindly.

Oikawa closed his eyes, as if that would block what he was about to ask from being actually uttered into the universe.

“Do you think Suga knows?”

“No.”

Oikawa opened his eyes to look at Daichi, to see his steadfast gaze fixed on him.

“Suga’s oblivious to that, always has been,” Daichi stated. “He doesn’t realize that you love him,” he said more softer then.

Oikawa brought his legs up onto the couch and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees, refocusing his gaze on the interesting corner of the carpet. “I haven’t told him yet,” he admitted quietly.

“I know,” Daichi said, his voice soft and tone filled with sympathy. “He told me.”

Oikawa took a deep breath and let it out as he let his head fall back.

“Why haven’t you told Suga you love him?”

Oikawa smirked, a reflex when he was about to deflect of something he wanted to keep as a secret that only he was allowed to know.

“That’s none of your business,” he tilted his head to say to Daichi, to make sure he saw the smirk, the smugness of it.

Daichi shook his head a little, his exhale pure exasperation. “So, since you came here because of your fight, I’m assuming you want advice on how to get past the fight?”

“Something like that,” Oikawa replied in a mumble, his smirk falling off of his face.

“Just tell him you’re sorry.”

Oikawa blinked at the simple suggestion. “That’s it?” he asked with an incredulous hint in his voice.

“That’s it.” Daichi nodded. “Suga forgives easily.”

“But that won’t solve the Terushima problem.”

“There’s nothing you can do about Suga having the occasional cup of coffee now and then with him. You just have to accept it.”

“But I don’t want to accept it.” Oikawa pouted with a petulant air.

“Then I guess you’ll have amazing make up sex for the rest of your relationship with Suga.”

“Not the rest of my life?” Oikawa asked, teasing in his voice.

Daichi took a deep breath, and Oikawa couldn’t help but think how it seemed he was about to say something unpleasant.

“I wish I could say I had that much faith in you two as a couple, for Suga’s sake, but it’s really hard sometimes, like right now with you two fighting because you think you can control him.”

Oikawa sighed, the earlier teasing grin melting off of his face. He felt Daichi’s eyes on him in the way his skin crawled whenever he was under unwanted scrutiny. It made him twitch, and he tensed his muscles so it wouldn’t show.

“Do you remember the time you two came over a couple of days after you told us you were dating?” Daichi asked, breaking the silence that had taken over.

“Sure,” Oikawa answered easily, smiling as he recalled how Suga had tried his best not to appear drunk, but his clinginess on Oikawa, and Daichi, _and_ Iwaizumi, had betrayed him. It had been cute, and none of them had been even a little bit upset with Suga for getting drunk, accidentally, leaving the rest of them to catch up and getting nowhere near the state that Suga was in.

But it wasn’t just the cute acting and the precious hugs that Oikawa had thoroughly enjoyed – it was also the kisses. And there had been a lot of them, _a lot,_ and Oikawa had loved every single one. Turns out, that dating Suga, and when he got drunk, mixed together very well.

“I don’t think Suga told you this, but he said that he was afraid.”

Daichi’s steady but clearly cautious voice brought Oikawa back from his fond memories of drunk Suga, and he frowned – when had Suga had the time to be in the state of clarity that evening to admit something like that – and finally looked to Daichi. “Of what?” he asked, baffled.

“Of how you two took a big step when you started dating because you were already living in the same apartment, practically living together already when you’d just started dating. He was afraid of how things would fold when you were only just starting, but you were kind of in a place where most couples end up in once they’ve already dated for a long time.”

Oikawa thought about it, and he had to admit that Suga had a point in thinking that. But he was also upset to learn what Suga had thought – did Suga have so little faith in them that he was afraid?

Why would Suga be afraid of _where_ they started from when they loved each other?

_Oh, right..._

“Suga doesn’t usually wear his heart on his sleeve like he does with you, so be careful with it,” Daichi advised in a serious voice, his eyes even more serious if that was possible. “Or I will throw you out that window.” He pointed at the window in question and Oikawa couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face as he was reminded of all the other times that Daichi had threatened to throw him out a window. He was yet to do it, and Oikawa found it hard to take him seriously about the threat anymore.

“I’d like to see you try,” he challenged, still smiling. “Besides, I don’t think Suga would like you to do so.”

“I guess it would depend on whether you were still together at that point,” Daichi pointed out with a meaningful look.

And Oikawa knew he was right. He really hoped that all their talk about their break up was strictly hypothetical, that the words they were saying were just that – just meaningless words strung together to have something to say.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m against you two dating,” Daichi pulled him from his thoughts again with how earnest he sounded. “I really am happy for you two, and I do hope that you’ll stay together for a long time, for the rest of your lives.”

“Because of Suga?”

Daichi nodded. “Because he deserves the best and nothing less. And if you’re not the one who can offer it to him, who can give that to him, you need to make some drastic decisions, and you need to be nice about it.”

“I want to be the person to give him all that,” Oikawa said almost defiantly, a fight for him and Suga to stay together rising inside him. “I love him,” he added in a whisper, more of letting the thought escape him.

“Then you need to apologize,” Daichi stated as a task for him to do, his voice suggesting that it should be easy, a given, when Oikawa really felt as if it would need Herculean effort and definitely  an epic tale written about later.

“You need to let Suga be who he is, and you fighting him on it won’t make him happy.”

Oikawa knew that. Sometimes apologies just were hard for him. Especially when he felt that he was in the right and everyone else was in the wrong.

And he suddenly felt a little underwhelmed with everything, and the even sudden feeling that he needed to be drunk to be able to deal with it.

“Where are your manners Dai-chan?” he asked, too sweet to get anything from Daichi, he knew, but didn’t care. “You’re supposed to offer your guests tea, or something to drink.”

Daichi raised his eyebrow, slowly, as if asking Oikawa if he really wanted to word it like that, say it like that to him.

“I would love some whiskey,” Oikawa added with a subtle smirk, tilting his head in a way that could always get him whatever he wanted.

“Hm,” Daichi hummed shortly, and got up from his seat. “You know, when Suga first met you, he wanted to eat you alive,” he spoke as he went to the kitchen, his voice growing farther and then a little echoy.

Oikawa smiled with newfound satisfaction at Daichi’s reveal. He had learned years ago that Suga had had a crush on him – of course he had noticed it – but finding out that Suga had been so carnivorous from their first meeting was an interesting boost on his self-esteem.

“I’m almost regretting that I stopped him from doing so,” Daichi added, and Oikawa’s smile twisted.

Oikawa turned on the couch to see over the back of it to the kitchen, to see Daichi. “Why?”

“You don’t remember what he was like then?” Daichi poked his head out of the kitchen as he asked, his curious look genuine.

“What do you mean?” Oikawa frowned.

“He lived on sex.” Daichi stated, his voice a little pitched, and disappeared back behind the thin partition. “After his break up with Akaashi, and getting over it, he barely went a day without sex.”

“Wait,” Oikawa interrupted, thinking hard on what Daichi just said. “So... Suga’s actually mellowed out after that?” He thought of how often they had sex, how often Suga propositioned it, suggested it, and flat out stated that he wanted to fuck.

Oikawa had come on pretty hard on Suga too at times, but usually it was Suga who got things started.

“So, you do have sex often,” Daichi asked and stated at the same time, as if confirming his own assumption to himself.

Oikawa thought for a moment on the right words. “Often is relative,” he settled on with a contemplative pout.

“Daily?” Daichi asked, in a very unlike him, smug way when he came back. As if he knew he knew something, but didn’t want to be too transparent and pleased with himself about it.

Oikawa didn’t answer – although he wanted to – because then he’d also had to admit that it had been a couple of days since the last time they had had sex.

Daichi seemed to notice his reluctance to answer, and as he set the brand new unopened bottle of whiskey in front of Oikawa on the coffee table, along with a glass, he continued.

“Anyway, back to what I was getting at earlier, if you’d hooked up back then, even for just one night like he was obviously planning from the way he was looking at you like you were the most delicious dessert in the world, he would’ve eaten you alive.”

“You really wouldn’t have survived,” he finished when he sat down with a beer. “And I’m almost regretting that I didn’t let him go after you.”

“What makes you so certain that I would’ve slept Suga then?”

“Would you have declined?” Daichi asked pointedly.

And he was right to ask so. Oikawa knew he would’ve happily accepted Suga hitting on him. He would’ve been more than happy to flirt with Suga, more than just casually interested to find out where that would take them – his or Suga’s bed.

But as Daichi claimed that he was almost regretting that he didn’t let it happen, Oikawa was grateful for him for that. If he and Suga had gotten together then, they might’ve not been together now. Or they might be. Who knows? Time is wrinkly and wonky and decisions have consequences that lead to other events. And who knows? If they’d gotten together then, they might still be together now.

Although, if Daichi was right that Suga didn’t want more than one night of reckless passion, then they probably wouldn’t have started dating.

Anyway, Oikawa thought as he shook his head clear of the complicated cause and effect train of thought, and poured some whiskey for himself, it was pointless to theorize on any of this since it was already in the past and they already hadn’t slept then and they were together now.

They spent the following moment in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts, or so Oikawa figured as he bared a half-assed moment of thought on it as he contemplated maybe for a second on the silence.

“You know,” Daichi said softly, pulling Oikawa from his own thoughts. “I used to wonder what the hell Hajime saw in you.”

Oikawa glanced at Daichi with a glare. It should’ve been obvious. And no, he didn’t mean his handsome face. “Childhood friend. He fell in love with a childhood friend,” he stated the blatant obvious.

“And then I wondered what the hell did Suga see in you? Why on earth was he attracted to you,” Daichi continued when Oikawa had answered, as if he hadn’t answered.

“So you’re not attracted to me, cool.” Oikawa said bitingly. “You don’t need to drive the nails to the coffin of our love so hard.”

Daichi chuckled, and once again continued like Oikawa hadn’t said a word.

“And then I remembered what Suga had said he admired about you.”

Oikawa moved his gaze to Daichi to give him his full, silent, attention.

“He said he admired your perseverance, your drive and your pride in anything you did. And I got it.”

“Wow,” Oikawa whispered lamely. “Do you want some painkillers? It must’ve hurt you to say that out loud.”

“My point is,” Daichi said, now a little irritated at the constant disruptions. “That the fact that you’re here talking to _me_ about Suga, asking for advice how to fix what’s gone wonky in your relationship...” He trailed of for a second, and took a deep breath. “I finally get it. What they saw.”

“Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Oikawa asked seriously, looking at Daichi as if he was losing his mind, but really only teasing. It was a foreign concept to him that Daichi would be so earnest with him, and he wasn’t ready to deal with it. At least not in front of the man.

“Fine,” Daichi gave up with a disgruntled sigh, and sipped his beer. “Forget it.”

Oikawa shifted a little on the couch to a more comfortable position, both his feet up on the couch, loosely hugging his hurt knee closer to his chest, letting the other leg dangle next to him, as he enjoyed the whiskey, smiling with contentment and satisfaction, pleased by the sudden and unexpected praise from _Daichi._

Who would’ve thought that dating Suga would bring him closer with someone he had loathed once upon a time, and with who he was certain he’d have a strained friendship through his entire life?

“Thank you,” he whispered when he had basked in his contentment, the warmth of his pleased sensation, for a sufficient amount of time.

He looked to Daichi, who was eyeing him with contemplation, and smiled softly to show that he had meant the gratitude with his whole heart.

“Well,” Daichi said slowly and quietly, fiddling with his beer. “You seem to generally make Suga happy, so I’m trying to be nice.”

Oikawa’s smile widened, the thought behind Daichi’s actions very familiar to him. “That’s what I tried to do when Iwa-chan started to date you.”

“You were trying to be _nice_ to me?” Daichi’s voice rose a little with each word as he asked, ending up with utterly incredulous.

“Yeah,” Oikawa answered. “Obviously.”

“Telling me that I’d look better if I wore a wig was you being nice?” Daichi asked, still in his incredulous, higher and raised voice, edging on accusing.

“I was trying to be honest,” Oikawa defended. “Maybe brutally so.”

“You were being bitchy,” Daichi corrected in a dark voice.

“Well, that too.” Oikawa shrugged, and both of them cracked smiles, and burst into laughter, filling the air around them with mutual understanding and happiness.

“This is the weirdest afternoon I’ve ever experienced,” Daichi commented when they calmed down.

“Yeah, when is Iwa-chan going to be home? I need someone to be bitchy to and I can’t do that with you because you’re being nice to me.”

Daichi hummed and took out his cell phone. “He left work twenty minutes ago,” he replied, typing something into his phone before he put it down. “He’ll be here soon.”

Oikawa nodded, doing the math in his head and figured that if Iwaizumi was coming home straight from work, it wouldn’t take him more than five more minutes now.

“Are you ever scared that he might not come home from work one day?” he asked seriously, the question something he used to wonder about when Iwaizumi had told him what he wanted to do. It was around the time that they’d broken up.

“You mean,” Daichi levelled him a serious look back. “Am I worried that one day he’s going to burn to death, trapped in a fiery house?”

“Yes,” Oikawa whispered. He hated thinking on how dangerous his best friend’s job was, and always made himself feel a little better as he also thought how brave his best friend was for doing his job.

“Always,” Daichi answered. “But I trust that he’ll come home every day. And I know that he’s good at his job, that the people he works with are good at their job. They’re a team, and no one gets left behind. And so far he’s come home every day. And he will continue do so until we’re in our sixties and we retire, and then we’ll travel till we’re eighty, and only then do we start to plan for our funeral, just in case.”

Oikawa smiled at their future plans. “You better bring me souvenirs.”

“We’ll bring you a tacky souvenir plate of the countries we visit.”

Oikawa made an exaggerated mean pout, maybe a little disgusted look if he was being honest.

“And you’re going to love every single one of them.”

“I’ll break every single plate you bring me,” Oikawa stated with a dark tone, foreseeing the broken and eventually thrown out future of the souvenirs. “Use them inappropriately in frisbee golf.”

Daichi laughed, and Oikawa couldn’t hold his pout much longer in the pleasant atmosphere, and in pleasant company.

Two minutes later, about, and an almost empty glass in hand, Oikawa schooled his expression back to the pout when he heard the front door open and close.

“I’m home,” Iwaizumi called a second later, and his soft steps carried him to the living room. “You still moping?” he asked, eyeing Oikawa as he rounded the couch to get over to Daichi.

Oikawa graced him with a glance that said “what do you think?” and “what the hell? I don’t mope, ever”.

“Oikawa’s trying to get over himself and gather courage to say sorry to Suga,” Daichi replied, apparently thinking that Oikawa’s practically-glare wasn’t enough, when Oikawa silently disagreed.

“What’d he do this time?” Iwaizumi inquired with a mild scowl and an even milder smirk.

“What do you mean ‘this time’?” Oikawa interjected to the conversation that was threatening to become strictly between Daichi and Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi ignored his question, though, as did Daichi when he answered Iwaizumi’s earlier question.

“He had a fight with Suga.”

Iwaizumi frowned subtly, almost indiscernible with his permanent frown. “About?”

“He doesn’t want Suga to be friends with Terushima.”

Iwaizumi’s frown deepened. “I wouldn’t either, knowing that Terushima is in love with Suga.”

“What the hell?” Oikawa exclaimed and shot up to sit straight, irritated the two had continued to talk as if he wasn’t right there hearing them, and aghast that everyone else but him seemed to know of Terushima’s deeper affectionate feelings towards Suga.

“It’s kind of obvious,” Iwaizumi stated. “Have you seen the way he looks at Suga?”

“No,” Oikawa grumbled, pouting and crossing his arms in front of his chest to sulk a little more just for show.

Daichi pulled on Iwaizumi’s shirt and the latter man fell into his lap. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said, his tone comforting. “Suga doesn’t love him, and I have a feeling, that if Suga were to find out that Terushima still loves him, he’d be upset, and wouldn’t want to see Terushima anymore.”

Oikawa tried his best not to stare how comfortable the couple was with PDA in front of him, a small contented smile on Iwaizumi’s lips, probably caused by Daichi’s fingers dancing on his thigh.  

“And it still holds true, that Suga will forgive you if just apologize to him. And maybe make him a dinner or something,” Daichi added.

Oikawa averted his gaze to the glass in his hand when he noticed Iwaizumi bend down a little, to kiss Daichi, and focused on the golden color of the liquid as he swirled it around by tipping the glass round and round and this way and that way.

“You taste of beer,” Oikawa heard Iwaizumi make a bland comment.

“I’m drinking one,” Daichi replied, and Oikawa glanced over, unable not to, and saw Daichi give the half-empty can a little shake.

“Hmm, I’m going to need one too if Oikawa’s going to bitch about his fight with Suga.” Iwaizumi got up from Daichi’s lap, and headed towards the kitchen. “And you owe me a bottle of whiskey,” he added sternly, pointing at Oikawa as he passed him.

Oikawa smiled a smile that was more a smirk – because of course Iwaizumi would demand a new bottle as repayment for the five percent of the whiskey that he had drunk – but it slowly morphed back to a smile as his first fight with Suga came back to him little by little, how Suga had told him to make him dinner and he’d be appeased. And Oikawa had made him his favorite food, and they had been okay.

Would something so simple really work again? Could it really be that easy?

Oikawa cautiously believed in it, and started to plan what to make for Suga tonight. He ran a list of the ingredients they had at home in his head, wondering on if he needed to stop by a store.

“Suga loves you so much,” Daichi said softly, out of nowhere.

Oikawa looked to him at the same time as Iwaizumi came back and sat on the armrest of the armchair and Daichi’s arm easily circled behind his back to hold him close.

“Don’t break his heart,” Daichi added, and Oikawa nodded.

“I promise,” he nodded again and finished the whiskey he had poured into the glass earlier, wincing just a little at the large size of the sip. “I should get going,” he decided then, and got up. “Suga’s mother arrives tomorrow and if we want to not fight when she’s here, we should probably get to the making up as soon as possible.”

“As long as you mean the apology,” Iwaizumi reminded him with his eyebrows raised meaningfully, shadowing his scowl.

“Thank you for the advice, Daichi,” he said with an actual grateful smile.

“You and your rude ass are welcome.”

“Just for that I’m not going to flip you off as I walk away. I’ll just give you a nice, unobstructed view of my sweet ass.”

He heard Daichi and Iwaizumi laugh lightly after him as he went to the front door, and exited the apartment with a smile, a plan for the evening, and night, already forming in his head.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Oikawa had a solid plan when he got home, a good plan, the best plan in his own modest opinion. He would apologize to Suga, and cook him his favorite food, if the man was already home. If not, which was just as possible, he would cook the dinner and keep it warm until Suga would come home, and apologize.

In any case, the apology and the dinner where crucial. Imperative, really.

Taking into consideration that Oikawa was still mildly upset about the fight with Suga, and a little confused of Terushima’s feelings towards his boyfriend, he was still in a surprisingly good mood – he had his plan.

And that was probably the reason for his delighted greeting the moment the opened the door and stepped into the warmth of their apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!”  He grinned when he saw Suga in the kitchen. “Did you miss me?”

“Were you gone?” Suga glanced up from what he was doing, from the apple he seemed to be peeling. “I didn’t notice.”

Oikawa pouted as he made his way to the kitchen, dropping his bag by the couch as he passed by it. He was a tad disappointed that Suga was still mad at him. Although, he probably would have been too if their roles were reversed.

“Don’t tease me,” he whined, pressing against Suga’s side, wrapping his arms securely around his waist. He waited for some kind of reaction from Suga, but when none came, he was at least glad that Suga didn’t push him away. _Maybe he is ready to forgive,_ Oikawa thought and placed a soft, tender kiss on Suga’s shoulder.

“My mom is here.”

Oikawa took an automatic step away from Suga, his hands falling off of Suga’s waist, as he followed Suga’s eyes to the hallway.

“So it’s time to take your pants off now.”

“What?” Oikawa whipped his gaze back to Suga in surprise and shock. Take his pants off?

“You said you weren’t going to wear pants when she comes, so...” Suga trailed off meaningfully, eyeing Oikawa under his brows.

“I was kidding!” Oikawa hissed, horrified at the idea now to be in front of Suga’s mother without his pants on.

“You sounded serious about it,” Suga commented nonchalantly. “I think it’d be fun to see too.”

Oikawa sighed softly, and decided to ignore Suga’s soft smirk on his last comment.

“She’s really already here?” he checked, quickly glancing towards he hallway again, to make sure that Suga didn’t just say that to get him off of him, that Suga hadn’t said that just to tease, or to give him a heart attack.

Suga hummed a confirmation as he put the freshly peeled apple to the side and picked up another one.

“Was she supposed to come today?” Had Akiko really decided to come early? Or had both of them remembered the day she had told them wrong? Was it supposed to be a surprise of some sort for her to come earlier than planned? Oikawa had so many questions, and none of the answers, which frustrated him.

“No,” Suga exhaled. “She said she wanted to spend some extra time with everyone.” He looked at Oikawa with a dilemma in his eyes, in the way he wasn’t smiling and in the way his eyebrows were furrowed and tilted.

Oikawa could already guess – actually, he didn’t even need to guess for he already knew why Suga was looking at him like that. But he still asked.

“Did you tell her about us?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Oikawa tried to peer into Suga’s face, to see his eyes, but Suga was steadfastly looking down to his task as he started to peel the new apple, obviously avoiding him. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

In Oikawa’s opinion, their news should’ve been the first thing out of Suga’s mouth when his mother entered their apartment.

Suga sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with it, the knife moving smoothly along the surface of the fruit. “Because I didn’t.”

Oikawa hummed shortly, disappointed that Suga didn’t seem to have a proper answer, or didn’t want to tell him the real answer.

“You need to tell her, Suga-chan,” Oikawa reminded him gently, whispering now as he leaned his hands on the top of the island, across from Suga.

Suga didn’t reply.

“If she’s going to stay with us, you need to tell her. There’s no way I’m going to start hiding our relationship again. Especially in our home,” Oikawa whispered urgently, the knowledge that Akiko could hear them a real threat in the back of his mind.

“I know that, Tooru,” Suga said patiently, finally meeting Oikawa’s gaze as he put the half-peeled apple down onto the cutting board and leaned his hands onto the countertop as well, mirroring Oikawa’s posture. “I will tell her,” he pressed then, sounding determined to do so, when he returned back to his earlier task. “I don’t want to hide us from her either.”

Oikawa smiled faintly, comforted by Suga’s words, glad that he sounded and therefore seemed adamant about telling his mother. His smile didn’t last long, though, not when he quickly realized that Suga was still giving him the cold shoulder, paying more attention to the apple than to him.

Of course Suga would still be mad at him. Why had Oikawa thought that things would be any different from how they left it that morning just because Suga’s mother had surprised them by arriving a day early?

“Suga-chan –“ Oikawa said softly, about to ask where they stood, when –

“Tooru-kun!”

Oikawa turned to look towards the hallway at the happy exclamation of his name, and saw Akiko standing there before she rushed to the kitchen, yanking him to bent down a little for a bone crushing hug. He was instantly comforted by her presence, by the tightness of her hold on him, by the warmth and caring she exhumed and spread around her just with her mere existence.

“How is my future-son-in-law?”

Oikawa froze in the hug and warily glanced at Suga over Akiko’s shoulder in surprise – hadn’t Suga said that he hadn’t told her about them?

“Mom,” Suga replied in a disapproving, exasperated tone without looking up.

“What? I’m saying it out loud to will it to become a reality,” Akiko defended herself, squeezing Oikawa, who noticed Suga roll his eyes, tighter. “It’s absolutely wonderful to see you again,” she said then and let go of him, a little reluctantly maybe. “You look healthy. Are you well?”

“Yes,” Oikawa smiled, warmed by the tight hug and Akiko’s caring. “How are you?”

“Old,” she stated as if she was weary about the fact, and smiled brightly right after. “At least I’m not as old Koushi.”

“I’m not twenty-six yet,” Suga commented mildly from the cutting board. Oikawa was reminded of Akiko’s birthday, of learning that Akiko liked to think she hadn’t aged since she turned twenty-five.  

“You’re still closer to your birthday than I am to mine,” she retorted, quite haughtily, as if a toddler proving a point. “And so are you, future-boyfriend-of-my-son.”

“Mom,” Suga jumped on it immediately, his tone practically scolding her, but she didn’t seem fazed.

“Well, how else is it ever going to happen if I don’t keep saying it?” Akiko asked innocently, her hands on her hips and head tilted in question. “Would you prefer the-future-lover-of-my-son?” she inquired so sincerely it was hard to believe she meant anything else but well with it.

Oikawa tried, and failed, to contain a snicker at Akiko’s sweet words, her fond teasing. It was adorable.

“How about ‘that roommate your son used to have but whose name slips your mind right now because he is just that easy to forget’?” Suga countered.

And then it got less adorable real fast.

Oikawa gasped with mock offence, only meaning maybe seventy percent of it, for he caught loud and clear the jaded tone underneath Suga’s voice. It wasn’t just that Suga’s mother didn’t know about them and he needed to act like it was somehow scandalous of his mother to assume it or talk about the possibility of it so freely. It was also their fight, of Suga being mad at him.

“That’s too long,” Akiko decided immediately, shaking her head.

“You can just call me Tooru,” Oikawa suggested with his best charming smile. He tried to not let Suga’s anger affect him. He didn’t want to give in to Suga’s subtle taunting to rise for a verbal fight.

“I like that too,” Akiko agreed with him, and they both turned to Suga with beaming smiles.

“Do what you want, I don’t care,” Suga said to them, dismissing them right after when he turned to pick up another apple.

Akiko straightened her back, and Oikawa noticed her evaluative gaze on her son. “Is something wrong, Koushi? You know I only tease,” she spoke softly, caring and fondness practically dripping in worry.

“I’m fine, we’re fine. I just have a headache coming on.” Suga avoided his mother’s gaze as he answered.

Oikawa wasn’t sure if Akiko believed him, but he certainly didn’t. He knew Suga’s mood had something, or maybe everything, to do with their earlier fight about Terushima. Too bad they couldn’t go a third useless round of fighting in front of Suga’s mother.

Especially since she didn’t know about their relationship yet.

It would be the absolute worst way for them to tell her that they were together – fighting.

But the passive-aggressiveness of Suga was affecting the atmosphere in the room and Oikawa thought it would be a miracle if Akiko didn’t pick up on it. Oikawa thought that some pre-emptive damage control was needed ASAP.

“I think Suga-chan’s just jealous. I think he wants a special nickname as well,” he said, trying to ease the waves of tension and alarming hostility emanating from Suga.

“Oh, of course,” Akiko eagerly jumped back on the tease-Suga-train as well.

“For fuck’s sake,” Suga mumbled, chopping the newly peeled apple in two in one clean strike of the knife, the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board ringing loud and clear in the kitchen.

“Language,” Akiko tutted, her smile softening the reprimand.

“I learned it from you,” Suga directed a pointed glare to his mother.

“You were three years old! I didn’t know you were in the room!  I thought you’d forget it! And it was called for at the moment! I had just learnt that my Tamagochi had died! The curse was imperative!” she exclaimed cheerily, her smile wide and shining with her delight. “And from now on I’ll call you the-future-baby-daddy-of-Tooru’s-children.”

“I’m going to start throwing knives.” Suga threatened bluntly.

“Okay,” Akiko stated, in the way that Oikawa had only heard every mother in the world do – no other entity or person in the world could say the word like that, only mothers – the joy in her voice disappeared quicker than Qui-Gon Jinn, and she made her way to the other side of the counter to Suga and placed her hand on Suga’s hand, the one cutting up the apple.

“Go get some medicine for your headache. I’ll finish these and make us more tea.”

Suga didn’t resist her when she took the knife away from him, and Oikawa reached for his free wrist. “Come on, I’ll help you find it.” He started to pull unresponsive Suga after him toward the hallway and down it to the bathroom. They kept their first aid kit and most of the medicine in a basket in the kitchen, on the highest shelf in the tall cupboard, but he needed a minute alone with Suga.

“I don’t need help,” Suga protested lamely, but he didn’t try and wrench his hand away from Oikawa.

“I know, but we need to talk,” Oikawa said in a low voice, turned the lights on in the bathroom and steered Suga to sit by the sink. “You’re mad at me,” he stated, rummaging their backup medicine kit because Suga would insist they have one just in case, in the cabinet under the sink.

Suga didn’t say anything, and when Oikawa turned with the painkillers to look at Suga, he was surprised in himself when he wasn’t surprised to see Suga’s eyes swimming in tears.

“Suga-chan,” he said softly, his hand going to Suga’s knee and lightly squeezing it.

“I hate fighting with you,” Suga said in a quavering voice, and sniffed quietly as he ran the heel of his palm under his eye.

“That’s good,” Oikawa braved to smile. “I hate fighting with you too.” He placed the painkillers next to Suga and brought his newly freed hand to cup Suga’s cheek, to brush his thumb under his eye.

“Don’t,” Suga said quietly, shaking his head minutely as he bit his bottom lip, tilting his head away from Oikawa’s touch, his eyebrows knitted with distress.

Oikawa was watching him so intently, as he had always been watching Suga, so he noticed all these little things, and even more. He could see that Suga had something he wanted to say, so he waited, cataloging away how animated Suga’s face was as he thought something over, as he took a slightly stuttering breath as he tried to keep himself from crying.

“I won’t see Terushima anymore,” Suga broke the uncomfortable but at the same time comfortable silence.

Oikawa didn’t know how to respond. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For Suga to not see Terushima anymore. But he couldn’t completely silence the tiny voice at the back of his mind nagging him that this wasn’t what Suga wanted. He didn’t know why, he couldn’t understand why it was so important to Suga to be friends with Terushima, and that was part of the reason why Suga’s friendliness with his ex-boyfriend made him uncomfortable. Was there something that Terushima could offer to Suga that he couldn’t? He hated to think that that might be true.

The other reason, and maybe the only reason that really mattered, for his uneasiness and utter incompliance to deal with Suga being friends with Terushima was the undeniable fact that he was Suga’s _ex-boyfriend._

But, he had promised to Daichi that he would do everything he could and beyond to fix the uneasy situation between him and Suga.

“You can be friends with him if you want to,” Oikawa said softly, trying his best not to show how much he didn’t want that. He needed to not be jealous of Terushima, or at least he should do his best to appear cool and calm about it.

“No,” Suga shook his head, looking down to his lap, to his fiddling fingers.

Oikawa moved his hands so they were on both sides under Suga’s jaw and kissed him, just a soft press of their lips together. “Did something happen?” he whispered as he leaned back a bit and placed a kiss feather light on Suga’s forehead.

“No,” Suga whispered back with another small shake of his head and flashed a small smile. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Oikawa stepped back, pretty sure that Suga wasn’t telling him something. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Suga guaranteed, sounding sincere and looking up to him with shining eyes, no doubt due to the earlier tears.

Oikawa still didn’t believe him, but let it go. For now. Maybe something had happened, but Suga needed time to process it first by himself.

Oikawa decided to trust Suga, that Suga would tell him when he was ready to, lifted his hands from cupping Suga’s jaw and picked up the painkillers. “Do you really have a headache?” he asked gently.

“I do, actually,” Suga answered and took the pills from him. “I’ll get something to drink from the kitchen.”

He was already heading out of the bathroom while Oikawa went to replace the kit back under the sink when he stopped and turned around at the door.

“I’m sorry.”

Oikawa looked up to him and smiled again, more soft but not at all less fond. “Me too.”

Suga nodded, just a single definitive bob of his head. “And I’ll tell my mom about us, don’t worry,” he said, and left Oikawa alone in the least echo-y bathroom he had ever witnessed.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Better?” Suga’s mother asked when he returned to the kitchen. She was placing the sliced apples and other snacks she must’ve found in the tall cupboard into small bowls and moving them onto a small tray.

“I will be,” Suga answered, going straight to get something to drink. He could feel his mother’s eyes on him, but he didn’t turn to look and confirm. He could feel the familiar weight of her eyes on his back without looking to know she was watching him, studying his behavior.

“Is something bothering you, darling?”

Suga swallowed down the painkillers, but kept his back turned to his mother as he put the glass down. His eyes felt heavy in a way they always were whenever he had shed a couple of tears, and he didn’t want his mother to notice. As much as he would’ve loved some comforting from her, he didn’t want her to worry when he had something more important he absolutely had to tell her. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I asked,” his mother pointed out maternally, just as Suga saw Oikawa return to the kitchen as well.

He wasn’t sure if his mother noticed the slight tension between them, but just because she didn’t comment on it didn’t mean she hadn’t realized something was off.

Even though he had told Oikawa that he wouldn’t see Terushima anymore, he had virtually forgiven him for telling him not to see Terushima, and yet, he was still a little miffed about it. Maybe it would require some time for them to get over their fight now that it was so quickly resolved. Their fight had been just swept aside really, and Suga was sure they would pick it up in some form or another, maybe not a fight but definitely a discussion, once his mother was on her way back to Miyagi.

“So,” Oikawa started and cleared his throat. “I really want to spend time with you and catch up,” he spoke to Akiko, who smiled warmly back at him. “But would you mind if I studied for a little bit?”

“No, it’s fine,” she answered easily. “Go and prepare, do your thing. I’ll still be here after the graduation. We have plenty of time to catch up and spend quality time together.”

Oikawa met Suga’s eyes, a mutual look of trust exchanged, as he was about to leave to ‘do his thing’, but stopped when Akiko called his name.

“Take these apples with you.” She offered the plate with some of the apples Suga had sliced earlier. “Eat something.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa smiled charmingly as he accepted the plate. “I’ll come and help with the dinner when it’s time,” he promised as he walked away again. 

Suga sighed as he watched after him. He knew why Oikawa had ducked out. Or, he was pretty sure it was so he wouldn’t be able to pull a stunt like he had with their friends, and somehow, very potentially leave Oikawa to tell his mother that they were now dating.

“Here.”

Suga’s mother’s voice brought him back, and he accepted the other plate she held towards him, and went to sit down by the dining table.

“Now, tell me everything that has been going on since the last time I visited,” she prompted with a sweet smile from the kitchen, from behind him.

“Nothing,” Suga replied dully, taking a bite of a slice of an apple as he looked out the window, unseeing everything beyond the glass, his vision unfocused. He was trying to come up with a way to tell his mother about him and Oikawa, unsuccessfully. Just the words “Tooru and I are together now” seemed lacking, not enough, too simple.

“That can’t be true,” his mother denied softly as he heard the tap run shortly, and then the unmistakable sound of porcelain on the countertop.

“It is.”

“Koushi.”

Suga sighed at his mother’s stern tone, and picked up his own voice a little. “Why are you asking me what’s been going on?” he asked kindly, looking at her over his shoulder. “You know that Kuroo and Bokuto would be more than happy to tell you _everything.”_ He widened his eyes at the end, and his mother giggled a little.

“I guess I just have to wait for them to come for dinner tonight.”

“Yeah,” Suga said slowly as he realized that Kuroo would be coming, definitely since Akiko was going to be there. He sighed again, and leaned his head on his hand as he thought about Kuroo and their last conversation, reminded of what Kuroo had said.

He quickly pushed the thought of Terushima, and his possible motivation to keep in contact with him, aside when he heard his mother approach.

“You keep sighing, honey,” his mother noted as she joined him at the table, armed with two cups of tea. “Are you sure you’re alright?” She stroked Suga’s hair up off his forehead, as if checking his temperature.

“I’m fine, it’s just the headache.”

“You don’t usually get headaches,” his mother mused, her eyes evaluating him under her worriedly furrowed eyebrows.

“I guess I’m just stressed.”

“Because of me?” Akiko asked, sounding a little let down that that would be the cause.

“No.” Suga answered straight away, refuting it as something impossible, and then reconsidered. “Actually, yes,” he said with a contemplative head tilt.

Akiko scoffed and sputtered at the same time, shaking her head a little at his teasing.

Suga picked up his cup of tea with a faint grin, mission accomplished in redirecting his mother’s attention away from his sighs. “Anyway, what’s going on at home?” he changed the topic and took a sip of the tea, enjoying the warmth spreading to his body.

“I think your grandmother is about to die,” Akiko answered placidly.

“Really?” Suga asked just as calmly. “When?”

“She said on June thirtieth, but who knows how accurate she is.”

This had been a thing Suga’s whole life – his grandmother certain of her day of death, and so far she had been wrong one hundred percent, since she was still alive and kicking the neighbor’s roses as she walked past them so they wouldn’t be prettier than hers.

“Tooru’s birthday is in July. If she’s really going to finally kick the bucket, I hope she keeps to her schedule so they don’t overlap.”

“Your grandfather was hoping that she’d die in September, something about a fall funeral, or I don’t know.” She waved her hand, as if to show that the last bit wasn’t all that important.

“I wonder if she’s even going to die this year at all. She’s been saying she’ll die on a specific day my whole life.”

“I know,” Akiko agreed with a warm smile.

“Do you know what it’s like to be disappointed for twenty-six years?”

She giggled again. “You know,” she sighed happily and sipped her tea with her elbows rested on the table. “I’m sure she’s the reason why you turned out so weird.”

“Sure, Morticia Addams. Whatever you say.”

Suga tried not to spill his tea when his mother gave him a light, playful shove on his shoulder as retaliation for his comment, because apparently she didn’t have anything witty to say back.

“This coming from Rosemary’s baby?” she asked only a short moment later with a mischievous glint in her eyes, when the fitting retort must’ve come to her.

Suga frowned at the familiar name. “Have you been talking to Iwaizumi?”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted from behind her cup, probably hiding her wide smile. “He said you threatened him with a variety of ways to dismember him.”

“I might have,” Suga admitted with a satisfied smile of his own, that he tried to hide by munching on the apple slices.

“Why would you do that?” Her voice had an exasperated tone, as if she was asking a child why they had eaten the whole jar of delicious strawberry jam.

Suga sighed, and put his cup down, more serious now that a more serious matter had come up. “Daichi and Tooru had a little bit of a falling out, and Daichi came over with Iwaizumi for them to make up, and I threatened Iwaizumi in case Daichi and Tooru ended up killing each other.”

“You should have more faith in your friends, darling,” she fondly berated him.

Suga hummed, subtly agreeing with her. Everything had turned out fine with Daichi and Tooru, and they weren’t at opposing corners in a boxing ring anymore.

“So, Wednesday Addams –“

Suga barked a laugh at the name.

“What else has been going on?”

Suga shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on since you already seem to know everything?”

“I don’t know everything.” His mother leaned back a little, affronted of the ‘accusation’. “I know _some_ things, since your friends call me more often than you do.”

“Not true,” Suga said pointedly. “You call me more often.”

“Well, if I don’t call you, when are we ever going to talk?”

“Preferably never?” Suga suggested as a joke, and received a light smack on his shoulder, almost spilling his tea again.

“There is definitely something wrong with you,” she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Well, of course there is,” Suga agreed as if it was obvious. “Look at who raised me.”

It was Akiko’s turn to sigh, and she put her cup down.

“Mom, I do appreciate you,” Suga said softly, and quickly before she could say a word to scold him for not appreciating her, meeting her eyes with a soft smile.

“I know you do,” she smiled back seemingly pleased, patting his cheek with affection. “Love you too, darling.”

Suga beamed a little brighter. And he figured that this was the perfect moment to tell her.

“Before I forget, remind me to change the sheets in my bed before you go to bed,” he said as nonchalantly as humanly possible. He thought that this was the time to tell her that something else than just ‘nothing’ had been going on. It had to be. He couldn’t postpone it any longer. He just needed to be subtle about it. He didn’t exactly want to make it a _Thing_ , a _Revelation,_ or _Breaking News._

“Oh, honey, I’m not going to put you on that couch again.”

“I’m not going to sleep on the couch,” Suga said patiently, watching steadily his mother for any kind of reaction. She was intuitive, she might get what he was about to tell her before he even had to explicitly say it.

“Where then?” His mother frowned, and was about to add something to it, her mouth opening a little when Suga beat her to it.

“In Tooru’s bed.”

Akiko paused, sitting so still it could’ve been a photo of her with her mouth a little agape.

Suga let her have her moment to think it through, and calmly sipped his tea while he waited.

“Honey,” she seemed to come to her senses and she shook her head a little, looking at the table, her voice already parental and just a hint on the judging side – which was unheard of from her. “I understand that you’re good roommates with each other, very close friends, but I don’t think that sleeping in the same bed is going to be prudent. It might...” She trailed off, as if looking for the right words to continue, her eyes moving as her gaze moved around the apartment, as if she was actually looking for the fitting words, and took a deep breath when her eyes focused on him. “It might give one of you the wrong idea.”

Suga dipped his chin down to hide his smile. She was too pure to be real. And he didn’t fully believe that she hadn’t already understood what he had just told her, what he had meant. But he decided to help her out, just in case he was wrong.

“Mom, think over what I said again,” he said calmly.

Akiko frowned, a small twist between her brows, and Suga watched how her eyes moved to the side as she thought, how her lips moved just a little as she mouthed the words to herself.

Finally, after a torturously long wait, she inhaled, paused, and moved her gaze back to him.

“I don’t get it.”

Suga dropped his head in front of him, only his elbows resting on the table prevented him from hitting his head on it.

“I guess I was too subtle,” he muttered in a whisper, and tried to pluck up his courage.  It had to be done. This would be the first time for him to introduce his boyfriend to his mother, and vice versa, even if they already had met before. If he didn’t count Akaashi, who his mother had met for the first time _after_ they had already broken up. (She knew that they had been dating. There just hadn’t been a time that would work for all of them for the two to officially meet)

There was a small tick at the corner of her mouth as she waited for Suga to explain what he meant, but it wasn’t small enough for Suga to not see it.

He narrowed his eyes, suspicious that his mother _did_ get it, but was playing so she could actually hear it from him, to have him say it word for word.

“I think I’ll have another cup of tea,” he said conversationally as he got up. “Would you like more?” he offered to his mother.

“Please, thank you.” She thrust her empty cup to him. “What were you trying to tell me?” She asked innocently, too innocently in Suga’s opinion, after him when he went to the kettle with their cups.

“Nothing, forget it,” Suga replied nonchalantly and refilled their cups.

“It sounded important,” she commented, her voice a little higher than usual.

“It’s nothing, mom,” Suga denied again.

“Are you sure?”

Suga returned to the table with the cups, and saw how she had her chin leaning to her knuckles, watching him with poorly veiled glee.

_She knew._

“I’m sure,” Suga replied with a disarming smile. If she already knew, like he assumed, that he and Oikawa were boyfriends now, then there was no way he would say it.

It would seem that his mother caught onto that, for her smile turned mischievous, almost a carbon copy of Suga’s similar smile.

“Tooru!” She shouted in hurry and joy then and sprang up and ran out of the kitchen, as if she had the best news to tell someone. “Tooru!” her shout echoed from the hallway.

Suga sighed, took a sip from his tea and got up, leisurely following his mother.

“Tooru!”

The sound of a door opening, and soon followed by a muffled ‘umphf’, traveled to Suga, and when he got to Oikawa’s room and peaked inside, he saw Oikawa getting his life squeezed out of him from a tight hug from Akiko.

“What’s going on?” Oikawa was looking at Suga for answers, shocked and perplexed, and a little alarmed.

“I’m so happy for you!” Akiko exclaimed with a laugh against his shoulder.

“I told her,” Suga answered and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, watching the precious scene in front of him with fondness, and with something warming his insides and causing his heart to swell in size.

Oikawa’s face opened as he comprehended what was going on, _what_ Suga had told his mother, _why_ she was hugging him like a constricting boa.

“Why didn’t you tell me the second I stepped inside your apartment and hugged you?” Akiko demanded to know, looking accusingly at Suga as she relaxed her arms around Oikawa, letting him breathe.

“Because you’re scary,” Suga answered with a smile.

“Oh, you,” she flapped her hand as a gesture of waving his silly answer away as nothing but silly. “Have you told anyone else yet?” she looked between them with wide, excited eyes, as if she couldn’t wait to run around the building from one apartment to another telling the news to anyone who would willingly, and unwillingly, listen.

“Everyone knows.”

Storm clouds must’ve gathered over her, turning her gaze dark and foreboding, angry and disappointed. She placed her hands on her hips. “I’m the last to know?”

“We only told others two weeks ago or so.” Oikawa tried with a charming smile.

“Koushi!” She hit Suga lightly on his stomach. “Bad son,” she reprimanded, her lips quivering as she tried to suppress her smile. “I can’t believe Tooru hasn’t already run away from you.”

“Well, with you here, I’m sure he finally will.” Suga teased with the run of the mill –phrase, causing Oikawa to chuckle.

Akiko shook her head, her expression finally open with a happy smile that she wasn’t trying to bite back anymore. You’re impossible,” she stated fondly. “Who raised you?”

“Some crazy lady,” Suga shrugged.

Oikawa snorted.

Apparently Akiko didn’t have a retort to that, or if she did, she chose not to say it. A moment a later, she turned to Oikawa and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you happy?” she asked softly from him.

Oikawa’s gaze moved from her to Suga with a smile so loving, it would take a dead person not to _feel_ it. _If only he’d voice it too,_ Suga thought. It was hard to believe just what his eyes saw and his body and soul felt, he needed to have it confirmed by his ears too.

“Yeah, I am,” Oikawa replied looking at Suga.

“Are you happy, Koushi?” she checked next.

“I guess,” Suga shrugged again, still playing the nonchalant teasing game that was too fun to quit. “I mean, he’s alright so I figured I’d keep him around until something better comes along.”

Oikawa smirked, and got up. “Something better, huh?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Suga took a step backwards in advance, warily looking up at Oikawa, already knowing where this was going to go. This wasn’t the first time.

“Yeah, someone who doesn’t brush crumbs on the floor and who doesn’t think it’s the aliens changing the time on the microwave.”

“I’ll show you crumbs,” Oikawa replied almost menacingly, and Suga took off, his laughter traveling in their apartment as Oikawa followed in his footsteps.

Oikawa caught him in the living room, his arms quickly snaking around Suga’s waist and lifting him in the air. Suga laughed, wriggled to try and get away from Oikawa, causing him to lose his balance and they predictably toppled to the floor, both laughing. Oikawa, taking advance of their position on the floor, with Suga pinned under his body, proceeded to tickle him.

Suga gasped as he tried to force air into his lungs through his laughter, ineffectively blocking Oikawa’s hands and quick fingers.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea too, Tooru,” Akiko said placidly, as if what was happening wasn’t anything new to her, as if it was something that happened daily, something she witnessed every day. But she also said it with a fond smile as he walked past them to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Oikawa replied a little breathlessly, and then looked down to Suga, his hands stilling.

“Thank you for telling her,” he whispered.

Suga smiled softly at him, and wound his fingers into Oikawa’s hair, his small high bun loosened from their playful scuffle and tickling on the floor. “My pleasure,” he whispered back, and brought Oikawa’s head down, to a soft, little kiss.

“I thought you were going to show me the crumbs,” Suga said as Oikawa pulled away from the kiss, but continued to hover over Suga.

“I can’t,” Oikawa stated, glancing around them at the floor. “There aren’t any,” he said slowly, as if confused. “Did you vacuum yesterday?”

“I had to,” Suga proclaimed, deciding on not to divulge the little detail that he had cleaned a little because he was annoyed that Oikawa hadn’t told him where he had gone to. Although everyone else in the apartment then, who were witnessing the vacuuming, could probably notice his under the surface -bubbling annoyance. “We were living in crumb village. The Crumb Prince and the villagers were about to take over.”

Oikawa chuckled. “You’re crazy.”

“Yeah,” Suga rolled the word out, his eyes on his fingers as they twirled a fallen strand of Oikawa’s hair by his face. “But you like me because of it,” he added in a whisper.

“I like you because of a lot of things,” Oikawa stated softly. “The crazy included.”

Suga hummed, the sound and corresponding smile subtly, softly pleased.

“Makes life interesting,” Oikawa continued and leaned down to give a peck to Suga’s lips. “You make life interesting.”

Suga smiled up at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

 

...

 

“Tooru, do you use anything in you tea? I’ve forgotten.” Akiko broke the whispered silence they had fallen in, reminding them quite harshly that they weren’t alone.

“No, I don’t.” Oikawa answered, looking down to Suga, who was fondly looking up at him, even though he seemed to be a little farther away, as if his mind had traveled miles away in the span of two seconds.

Oikawa wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t ask. He had a feeling he wouldn’t get an answer anyway, just based on the look behind Suga’s eyes, that something turning his expression contemplative.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Issei!” Akiko greeted the newcomer with a wide smile.

“Oh,” Matsukawa looked a little taken aback by the sudden exclaim. “Hello, Akiko-san. How are you?” He bowed respectfully by the front door, and turned briefly to close it while Akiko went to him.

“I’m wonderful, thank you for asking,” she beamed, and stopped good five steps away from him. “Now, are we close enough for me to hug you or not?”

“Hug is fine,” Matsukawa nodded with a pleasant smile, and so they did.

It was brief, a lot more cordial than the bearhugs she’d given to Suga and Oikawa, but probably filled with the same affection she had for all of Suga’s friends.

“Where is Takahiro?” she asked when they parted, once again the same five steps long distance between them, Oikawa noted. “Don’t tell me you’ve broken up.”

“No, no,” Matsukawa hurried to say, vigorously shaking his head. “He’s still at work.”

“Oh, good.” Akiko pressed her hand on her chest, as if she truly was relieved by the news. “You know, we need to exchange contact information so I can be directly in contact with you without the unreliable middle hand in between.” She gestured with her hand towards Suga on the couch, where he was showing off how he was best friends with Kumamon and how he was definitely Kumamon’s favorite by letting Suga lean on it as he read.

“Have you been telling lies about us to your mother?” Matsukawa tilted a little to the side to see Suga behind his mother’s back.  

“I tell her nothing,” Suga corrected, his eyes still moving on the lines on the page. “And it irks her,” he added with a smile.

“I like to know what goes on in my boys’ lives.” Akiko defended herself with hands on her hips, her softly scolding gaze on her son.

“I’ll be sure to give you my number before you leave,” Matsukawa assured her.

“Thank you,” Akiko beamed gratefully. “Now, would you like to help out with the dinner as well?”

“I can do something,” Matsukawa nodded and followed Akiko to the kitchen, to Oikawa who was adding the noodles to the boiling water. “How come Suga isn’t helping?” he asked.

Oikawa pressed his lips tight together not to snort out loud, reminded by the mention of Suga’s name of _why_ he wasn’t helping.

“He is on a timeout,” Akiko answered smoothly, stating it so matter-of-factly, Oikawa was struggling not to make any sounds of amusement.

“Why?” Matsukawa looked towards Suga on the couch, and then back to Akiko as he accepted the apron she was holding out towards him. “What did he do?”

“He played with the chicken, walking it across the counter and throwing it in the air as if he was trying to teach it to fly.”

Oikawa snorted out loud, unable to hold it back anymore, and tilted his head back as he laughed freely. Matsukawa looked amused as well, his body shaking with his silent laughter as he tied the apron behind his back.

“I thought I had raised him better than that,” Akiko sighed as she shook her head with disbelief.

“I thought you looked familiar,” Suga joined in from the couch, looking up from the book he was reading, and snapped his fingers as a thought must’ve occurred to him. “You’re my mother, aren’t you?”

“The disrespect is strong in this one,” Oikawa commented, causing Matsukawa to chuckle as he came to stand next to him by the stove.

“You and Star Wars,” he was shaking his head as he gazed into the pot, to the noodles Oikawa was stirring. “I’ll never get it.”

Oikawa laughed. “No one does. Well, except...” He glanced over his shoulder towards Suga.

“Can you be a little less in love with him?” Matsukawa whispered conspiratorially. “You’re making me sick to my stomach with the overly sweet way you’re looking at him.”

Oikawa’s smile turned quite bashful, and he shook himself out of his lovely thoughts on Suga to concentrate on the cooking. “Are your parents still in town?” he thought to change the subject.

“No, they left this morning, after dragging me to a brunch that took ten years off my life,” Matsukawa replied darkly. “By this rate, I’ll be dead before I’m forty. I swear my dad told me five times that I should work harder for a promotion.”

“You didn’t tell them that you quit?”

“You quit?” Akiko interjected with her genuinely interested tone and a kind smile as she came to add more to the pan Oikawa was keeping an eye on. “How so?”

“Because I couldn’t deal with the twelve hour work days for six days a week at a job that I hated,” Matsukawa answered lifelessly, as if he could die of boredom for even thinking about his old job. “And no, I didn’t tell them. Can you imagine the shitshow of a hundred pointless ‘why’ questions thrown around?”

Oikawa chuckled lightly, and with sympathy for his friend, as he was able to clearly envision the interrogation that would’ve undoubtedly followed the admission. “Is Makki still alive?”

“On life support, but he seems to be getting better,” Matsukawa smirked at his own joke as he accepted the large knife Akiko placed in front of him on the cutting board. “My dad really laid it thick on him this time, questioning just about every choice Makki had made in his life since he was a baby and his reasoning behind his favorite pacifier.”

“I’d love to meet your dad,” Suga joined their conversation, now sat by the island, moved over sneakily and without making any noise. _Creepy,_ Oikawa’s brain supplied, and made him smile.

“I think you’re the first person to ever say that,” Matsukawa commented, his eyebrows a little raised with surprise and probably incredulity.

“I don’t think Suga wants to meet him just to make nice,” Oikawa said slowly, regarding Suga’s easy smile.

“I’m always nice,” Suga protested softly, his smile sweet and expression innocent as he cupped his chin in his hands, his elbows resting on the island.

But Oikawa knew better by now. He knew the ghoul behind the smile, the one that made him hide under beds in IKEA to grab strangers’ ankles to scare the life out of them. He knew that Suga was as much a devil as he was an angel.

And Oikawa loved him for that.

“Whatever you do, darling,” Akiko cut in. “Remember to offer tea to the man. That is what we do when we have guests over.”

“Would you like some tea, Mattsun,” Suga offered immediately.

“No thanks,” Matsukawa laughed, and conspiratorially leaned towards Oikawa again. “How do you keep up with them? Or just with Suga in general?”

Oikawa scoffed. “This is nothing,” he revealed under his breath. “Trust me,” he added seriously, as if his life depended on it, and moved a little to the side to give Akiko room to add even more to the stir fry she had concocted from their leftovers in the fridge.

“Do you have any future plans?” she inquired from Matsukawa, engaging him in conversation.

Oikawa took the chance, once he made sure that nothing would burn if he momentarily stepped away from the stove, and moved to the island as well, across from Suga.

“Hey,” Suga called softly almost instantly, and his arm reached over the island so he could slip his finger through a belt loop of Oikawa’s jeans to bring him a bit closer to the island. “Talking of Mattsun’s dad, it reminded me of something I have to tell you.”

“What?” Oikawa asked easily, leaning his forearms on top of the island.

“Not here,” Suga whispered, his eyes moving so he was looking past Oikawa’s head, probably at Akiko and Matsukawa. “But remind me later.”

“Okay.” Oikawa nodded. “Is the headache still bothering you?” He asked, running his hand through Suga’s hair in a single smooth caress, settling it on Suga’s nape.

Suga shook his head with a gentle smile as an answer, and Oikawa smiled back, and kissed Suga briefly.

He loved doing that, kissing Suga, in their home. He was immeasurably relieved and unbelievably happy that Suga had told his mother about them so they didn’t need to hide their relationship from her, so he could freely kiss and touch Suga as much as he wanted, in the parameters of decency, of course.

But he couldn’t help but wonder, in midst of the happiness that was filling him with helium and turning him light enough to float, if whatever Suga needed to tell him had anything to do with the contemplation he had slipped to earlier, or maybe it was about something else altogether.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Suga!” Tanaka’s voice called out loudly from the door, followed by the loud banging noise the door made when it was carelessly thrown shut. “Were you serious about the free food? I’m not in a mood today to be teased about food.”

Oikawa glanced towards the couch – where Suga had returned to when he had been once again chased out of the kitchen when he’d offered to help, which had of course only been a disguise for him to play more with the food by screaming shrilly and under his breath in a whisper as he pierced the meat with the sharp sticks, as if the pieces of meat had been tortured – and noticed how Suga didn’t acknowledge Tanaka’s shout at all, wondering if Suga had even heard him over his own thoughts. 

“He most definitely meant it,” Akiko answered as she went to Tanaka, engulfing him into a hug.

“Akiko-san,” Tanaka sighed, as if suddenly filled with happiness, returning the hug, apparently melting into it. “You’re finally here.”

“Yes, I am,” she replied and pulled away from the hug, but kept her hands on Tanaka’s shoulders as she looked at him. “Bad day?”

“It could’ve been better,” Tanaka answered with a funny smile. “But you’re here and my day has been made a hundred times better.”

“Good,” she gently patted Tanaka’s cheek. “Come and help in the kitchen.”

“You probably won’t need me anymore then,” Oikawa smirked, already moving towards the living room.

“Go,” Akiko smiled gently at him, maybe guessing where he was heading anyway, as she steered Tanaka to the kitchen and handed him a stack of plates to set the table.

“Hey,” Oikawa softly nudged Suga when he got to the couch, rousing him from his thoughts, and sat down behind his head, where Kumamon had fallen off from, now lying down like a forgotten toy on the floor. “Are you still with us?” he questioned, wondering how far Suga had fallen into his thoughts, wondering how deep the rabbit hole went and if there was an impassable door at the end of it.

Suga hummed in acknowledgment, but Oikawa wasn’t convinced. He pinched Suga’s nose, momentarily stopping his breathing, effectively bringing Suga back from the other world, or maybe universe, he had traveled to, definitely stopping him from eating the cake and drinking the drink, and from making friends with the Queen of Hearts who loved to behead people and creatures, something of which the two would definitely bond over.

“I can hear you,” Suga said as he swatted Oikawa’s hand away from his nose, opening his eyes to gaze up to him. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

Suga didn’t respond, but moved on the couch to nestle his head on Oikawa’s lap. He took Oikawa’s hand and placed it on his head. “Stroke my hair,” he demanded in a soft whisper.

Oikawa smiled, and diligently started to slowly run his fingers through Suga’s hair, the silky strands easily sliding between his fingers. “Do you want me to stroke anything else while I’m here?”

“Tooru,” Suga hissed, the back of his hand slapping on Oikawa’s chest, and Oikawa chuckled with a smirk at his own cleverness.

His chuckles died away as the apprehension of finger combing Suga’s hair came to him, knowing how out of it Suga sometimes got when his hair was caressed, when Suga was already so easily slipping off to meet Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

The easy conversation of the other four traveled from the kitchen, Hanamaki and Matsukawa laughing about something Akiko and Tanaka were joking about.

Oikawa let the sounds of family and safety, the feeling of warmth and friendliness fill him and chase the apprehension away as he settled in content to just run his fingers through Suga’s hair, over and over again.

“What was it that you needed to tell me?” he asked softly, in fear of Suga actually falling asleep, when his breathing slowed down.

“Hm, not- people, hearing, not now.” Suga replied in short words, clearly close to sleep. “Am I speaking?” he checked with a slight frown a breath later.

“Yes,” Oikawa smiled wider, and fonder at Suga, and bent down to kiss him. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” he whispered against Suga’s lips.  

“I won’t,” Suga yawned when Oikawa straightened away, stretching his arms high over his head, almost knocking Oikawa’s jaw with his hand and he stopped stroking Suga’s hair at the sight of the yawn.

“Don’t stop,” Suga said immediately and with a hint of a petulant whine, and Oikawa snickered lightly.

“You’re like a really demanding cat,” he observed fondly, his hand returning to its earlier task.

Suga responded by pushing his head against the touch of Oikawa’s hand. “Just feels good,” he explained softly, nuzzling sweetly against Oikawa’s thigh, his gesture interrupted by a slightly annoyed groan when his phone started to ring on the island.  

“Who is it?”

“Says Daichi,” his mother answered from the kitchen.

“They’re probably at the downstairs door. I’ll go,” Suga said with disappointment, already pushing himself to sit up.

But Oikawa got up first, the second that Suga’s head lifted off of his thigh. “No, I’ll go,” he volunteered quickly.

“Are you sure?” Suga asked with a kink in his brows.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” Oikawa hollered over his shoulder, hastily shoved his feet into his shoes, and ran down the steps to the front door.

He needed to let Daichi and Iwaizumi know that his plan had been foiled before they could bring it up in front of everyone else. He didn’t need everyone to know that he and Suga had fought, not when they had already, sort of, resolved it.

“What did Suga promise to do to you for you to come and open the door for us?” Daichi joked when he opened the door for them.

“Nothing, I volunteered.” Oikawa stepped to the side to let them enter, and noticed the surprised look the two shared. “I was wondering if you were invited as well.”

“Of course we were,” Daichi answered in a tone that suggested Oikawa’s question was a stupid one, extremely futile, as they stepped inside. “A little after you left, I got a message from Suga that said “free food tonight at seven”, and I guessed that Akiko had come early.”

“How’d the apologizing go?” Iwaizumi asked with the smallest hint of a smile, as if he could guess that there hadn’t been much of apologizing to Suga with Akiko around.

“It wasn’t exactly what I had planned, but we’re good,” Oikawa replied, leading them upstairs.

“Really?” Daichi sounded a little disappointed, go figure. “I was kind of hoping for a showdown in front of everyone.”

“Why?” Oikawa’s question echoed in the stairwell as he stopped to look behind him.

“Because Akiko needs to know.” Daichi looked up to him.

“Suga already told her we’re together,” Oikawa replied as he resumed ascending the stairs, his hand lazily trailing along on the handrail.

“Not that,” Iwaizumi corrected. “She needs to know that you’re fighting.”

Oikawa frowned, but kept climbing the stairs this time. “Why?”

“Because I want her to scold you.”

“Why?” Oikawa couldn’t help but ask, his voice a bit whiny.

“Because it’d be funny for us to watch, and you kind of need it.”

“What happened since I left your apartment?” Oikawa asked, taking the last step and arriving to the second landing, in front of their apartment door. “I thought we’d gotten over our pissing contest when we had a heart to heart.”

“So did I,” Daichi shrugged nonchalantly with his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “But then you came to open the door and I saw your face.”

“I thought you were going to be nice to me,” Oikawa reminded him, his hand on the door handle but not pressing down on it yet. He was aware that their voices probably carried through the door and everyone inside the apartment could hear what they were saying, and purposefully kept his voice low.

“Suga won’t be pleased,” he added, a press in his words, meaning heavy in that Suga wouldn’t like to learn that Daichi was subtly trying to annoy and rile him up.

“How is he?” Daichi asked with sudden worry, the taunting forgotten in a heartbeat. “Really.”

Oikawa took a beat, a breath, a moment, and opened the door with a surge of his own worry about Suga’s turn around about Terushima and effortless slip into contemplation flaring in his chest. “You’ll see,” he said, and opened the door.

Akiko was the first to greet them with hugs, an excited and happy smile and questions of their well-being, even though she kept in frequent touch with Daichi.

Oikawa made his way straight back to Suga, prodding him a little so he could return to the same seat he had left from, and Suga agreeably lifted his head to place it back into Oikawa’s lap once he was situated comfortably.

“Kumamon isn’t a footstool,” Suga complained blandly, and Oikawa bit back his grin, moving his feet from Kumamon, shifting a little to lift them onto the couch next to Suga’s lying body. He ended up with his legs hugged by Suga, who gently curled against them, his head pillowed on Oikawa’s thigh.

“We should get Kumamon a friend,” Oikawa commented, his fingers twirling Suga’s hair, admiring the silvery shine and the play of the light in it, not really meaning what he said, but not really against the idea either.

“He already does have a friend,” Suga replied in a musing tone.

Oikawa looked from Kumamon to Suga with about a hundred questions, all of them asking the same thing. “What? Who?”

“The alien in your room. The big plushie that lives in that corner by the window.”

“Oh, yeah,” Oikawa exhaled, looking up from Suga when the image of the alien sitting in his room came to him. Of course he remembered the alien, don’t accuse of him of forgetting him. “I wasn’t aware that Martin and Kumamon were friends,” he stated with the beginning of a grin curling the corners of his lips as he idly followed the scene of Akiko fussing over Daichi and Iwaizumi by the front door.

Suga chuckled softly and shortly, just air leaving his nose, pulling Oikawa’s attention back to him. “Of course you named it Martin.”

“Him, not it.”

“It’s a him?” Suga asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course he is _a him,”_ Oikawa exaggerated, sounding far too outraged by the implication that Martin wouldn’t have a personified pronoun.

“My apologies,” Suga chuckled, tilting his head up so he could look at Oikawa, his amused smile in full display for Oikawa. “Is _he_ related to your Marvin the Martian –keychain?”

“No,” Oikawa answered with a frown, disbelief in his voice that Suga would even ask. “They’re different species. How could they be related?”

“And the Ewok that you’ve tried to hide from me?”

Suga was having too much fun with his questions, but Oikawa couldn’t begrudge him from his joy. Besides, it was fun to talk about this with Suga. It was a much welcomed change to the heavier and more difficult matters of feelings and their relationship that they had been talking about, stuck circling around.

“Different species too,” Oikawa replied, his tone indicating the obviousness of his statement.

“Of course,” Suga parroted from earlier with a serious frown creasing his forehead, contrasted by his smile. “You know, I’m convinced that it’s Martin who keeps changing the time on the microwave.”

“It could be Kumamon too.”

“I thought you were certain that it’s aliens.”

“Obviously it’s aliens,” Oikawa nodded. “But it could be Kumamon too,” he added with a thoughtful purse of his lips. “Just to mess with us. His disappearance and out of nowhere reappearance resembled an alien abduction.”

Suga laughed, and Oikawa felt his body shake. “Kumamon isnt’ a he.”

Oikawa didn’t get the chance to retort before they were disrupted by Daichi, who had finally been able to get past Akiko.

“Hey,” he said in a kind greeting, addressed to Suga with a smile that Oikawa had seen the two best friends trade numerous times.

“Hey,” Suga smiled back and lifted and extended his foot towards Daichi.

Daichi eyed the foot with a quirked eyebrow. “Am I supposed to shake it like a hand?” he gazed to Suga’s eyes as he asked.

“I can’t reach you from here,” Suga replied, reaching his hand out towards Daichi as well. “If you want to say hi properly you’ll have to step closer or shake the foot. Choose your fighter.”

Daichi chuckled fondly and stepped closer to Suga, who seemed adamant about not getting up from his lying down position.

“If I hug you now, I’m going to end up hugging Oikawa’s legs too, and I don’t really fancy doing that.”

“Your loss,” Suga and Oikawa coincidently said at the same time.

“When did Kumamon come back?” Iwaizumi joined them as well, his hands still nonchalantly in his pockets as he eyed the lifelessly lying mascot with casual indifference.

“You saw it three days ago,” Suga pointed out with a faint disbelieving laugh.

“But I didn’t get a chance to ask about it,” Iwaizumi replied with a shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Daichi, Hajime,” Akiko called from the kitchen. “Could you help with setting the table?”

They agreed almost instantly.

“Can I help as well?” Suga volunteered, sitting up, as if ready to get up to help.

“No,” Akiko denied. “Stay away from the food until it’s time to eat. I don’t’ want to see you try and throw the plates around like they’re flying saucers.”

Oikawa chuckled. Based on Suga’s small mischievous smile, Oikawa was certain that Suga had played with the food with a bigger picture in his mind. “You’re unbelievable,” he whispered, pulling Suga back to lean against him and nuzzled the side of his neck, just under Suga’s ear, as the others started to bring dishes and food to the living room, to set them down on the coffee table after a mutual agreement that they would be more comfortable eating there, that there would be fewer accidental bumps of elbows than if they all sat at the rarely used dinner table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Suga said with feigned ignorance, the innocence in his voice far from sincere.

“Mm-hm, sure,” Oikawa agreed with a smirk, lifting his head from Suga’s neck to see him.

“You can’t prove a thing,” Suga added in the same dishonest tone.

“Mm-hm, sure,” Oikawa repeated.

“Go help them,” Suga nudged him with his elbow to the side, an amused smile tugging at his corners of his lips.

Oikawa covered the spot where Suga’s elbow hit him with his hand, even though he wasn’t hurt by it at all. “Why?”

“If I can’t help, you have to,” Suga answered genuinely, looking at him like he really meant it.

“You planned this,” Oikawa stated with a smile, since he wasn’t actually upset by the fact.

“Planned what?” Suga asked with bafflement that didn’t seem put on for show.

Oikawa couldn’t help but chuckle weakly as he cupped Suga’s cheeks in his hands and brushed his lips against Suga’s in a chaste kiss.

Suga pushed on his shoulder when he dropped his hands. “Go,” Suga urged again, and Oikawa acquiesced with an easy smile, receiving a light smack on his ass as he passed by Suga. “Make the saucers fly.”

 

In the kitchen, in the middle of the bustle and the hustle and tightness of the space in middle of six other moving bodies, he offered his two helping hands, and glanced quickly towards Suga, only to find him lost in his own world again.

He wondered if Suga had met the Cheshire Cat yet.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Tetsu-kun!”

“Hey, Akiko-san,” Kuroo smiled warmly when he arrived in middle of setting the table, in the middle of counting and recounting how many plates and glasses and pairs of chopsticks were needed, in the middle of Hanamaki and Matsukawa playfully arguing over the appropriate napkins, some remarks about ‘Mr Napkinhead’ thrown around, and in the middle of Oikawa and Daichi sharing a worried look when Daichi noticed Suga’s far off gaze directed out the window.

 “You seem well,” Kuroo said into the hug he reciprocated with tight arms when Akiko went to hug him as well.

“As I should,” Akiko said with an ever-growing smile when they broke apart. “But you’re almost late to dinner. What is your excuse?”

“Oh, well,” Kuroo ran his hand through his hair and he looked to the living room, to the couch Suga was sitting on, close by and simultaneously far from everyone. “I wasn’t sure if I would be welcome.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?” Akiko asked with genuine bafflement, following Kuroo’s eye line to her son. “Are you two fighting?” she turned back to Kuroo.

Oikawa was intrigued by the look too, by the reason behind it, and stopped what he was doing to pay attention to Kuroo’s answer.

“It’s just a small thing, nothing to worry about,” Kuroo said reassuringly and smiled charmingly.

“Are you sure?” Akiko pressed, leaning a bit forward, as if she was about to sniff a lie.

“I’m sure,” Kuroo pressed just as heavily, and Akiko left him be with a gentle smile, apparently satisfied with his answer.

But Oikawa wasn’t, and neither was Daichi, who was followed by Iwaizumi, as they crowded on Kuroo by the front door, by the mess of the shoes on the floor.

“Why are you fighting with Suga?” Oikawa and Daichi asked at the same time.

“Whoa, chill, dudes,” Kuroo put up his hands in between their bodies, like he was fending off raptors. “It’s nothing big.”

 A lie, Oikawa could instantly tell.

“Suga never fights with anyone,” Daichi said, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Except with this one,” Iwaizumi gestured with a thumb at Oikawa, who let out an indignant scoff before he looked away with his chin held up high in a silent protest to Iwaizumi’s comment.

“It’s not really a fight,” Kuroo tried to convince again with a reassuring smile tagged to the end.

But Oikawa wasn’t convinced, or reassured.

“Kuroo,” Suga asked for his attention from the couch and they all turned towards the man.

“Yeah?” Kuroo seemed genuinely surprised that Suga had addressed him at all.

“Do you want to test drive my newest invention?”

“Um...” Kuroo hesitated as he looked to the others. “Sure,” he replied slowly, his tone a little untrusting. “What is it?”

“A helicopter ejector seat.”

Oikawa burst into laughter at the way Suga so lifelessly stated the threat for Kuroo’s life, and tried to cover his mouth with his hand so he wouldn’t be too loud.

“Yeah, you’re not fighting with Suga,” Daichi stated sarcastically with a smile of utter amusement as he walked away from Kuroo, chuckling a little with Iwaizumi.

“Alright,” Akiko called in a louder voice to get everyone’s attention. “Dinner is just about ready. Are we waiting for more people to come?”

“Bokuto and Akaashi,” Kuroo answered instantly, his voice buried under the sound of the front door closing.

“Ah, my savior has arrived,” Akiko announced with a shining smile, immediately reaching her arms out towards Yaku.

“Hello, Akiko-san,” he said into the hug.

“Now I don’t feel like a midget anymore,” she continued in her own train of thought.

“I’m a centimeter taller than you,” Yaku protested with a happy smile when they broke apart, but still stayed at an arm’s length from each other.

Akiko patted his shoulder. “Let’s not exaggerate things, darling.”

“You’re both short,” Iwaizumi stated bluntly.

Anybody else would’ve started a slow retreat once they’d noticed the looks he was getting from Yaku and Akiko, to take cautious steps backwards, looking apprehensively at them both, looking ready to start running for their life any second. But not Iwaizumi, who firmly stood behind his statement.

Iwaizumi wasn’t one to be easily intimidated, and both Akiko and Yaku quickly shifted their attention to other things, probably knowing how useless it would be to try and intimidate Iwaizumi, and everyone settled down around the coffee table, taking their places by Akiko’s instructions, sitting down where she pointed them to.

“Where are Kenma and Shouyou?” Akiko asked, as she pushed on Kuroo’s shoulder, steering him towards the lone armchair.

“They went to visit Hinata’s parents. They couldn’t come here for his graduation so they decided to go there,” Kuroo answered, accepting his seat and looking like a royalty sitting down on their throne.

“Ah, and Asahi? Where is his handsome face?”

“He has a date with Noya,” Tanaka provided the information, already looking at the feast laid out with wide hungry eyes.

“Wait, really?” Hanamaki looked taken back, sat next to Matsukawa on the floor on a couple of cushions. “They’re actually officially dating now? It’s not a secret anymore?” He looked around at everyone for answers as he asked.

“Finally,” Oikawa commented.

“Are you officially dating anyone?” Akiko leaned towards Yaku, whispering the question loudly enough for everyone to hear with an inquisitively raised eyebrow.

Yaku scoffed, and lazily leaned his butt to the armrest of the new couch. “Like I’d have the time to meet anyone,” he answered, and flicked non-existent lint off of his shirt.

“Stop lying,” Kuroo interjected, pointing at him. “Your job does not take up that much time.”

“I’m usually busy trying to keep you all out of trouble, and from accidentally killing yourself.”

“I take offence of that,” Suga piped up from the floor, where he was leaning his back to the couch, not actually sounding offended at all, and looked even less offended.

“You excluded,” Yaku relented.

“What about Komi?” Hanamaki asked, which Oikawa knew instantly from Yaku’s expression to be a mistake.

 _“What about Komi?”_ Yaku asked darkly, hissing a little.  

“Aren’t you dating him?” Hanamaki might’ve asked from Yaku, but was looking for his answer from everyone else.

Everyone else, who uncomfortably and awkwardly muttered something as they too caught onto Yaku’s reluctance to talk about his “relationship”.

“Oh, Morisuke is far too young to seriously date anyone, like me,” Akiko announced with an effortless smile, an ease in it despite the slightly tense atmosphere, instantly dispelling it when a scatter of relieved chuckles filled the room, and everyone’s focus shifted to the coffee table that had disappeared under the amount of food and dishes.

Oikawa went to sit on the last empty spot on the couch, in Kumamon’s seat – Suga had moved Kumamon to the side so everyone would fit to sit around the coffee table – with one leg tugged next to him and the other hanging off the couch next to Suga’s side.

Oikawa had a funny feeling that Akiko had steered everyone to sit so he and Suga would end up sitting together. In fact, he’d willingly bet a lot of money on it, and then secretly hope that Suga wouldn’t find out about his bet, although he was certain that he’d be able to dispel any anger Suga would hold against him for that in a moment with a kiss and a suggestive smirk, maybe a teasing remark.

“Who wants wine?” Daichi asked, to divert the focus off of Yaku, holding a bottle in his hand, ready to tip it over an empty glass.

Several hands were raised and pleases were said.

“Are you still not drinking, Koushi?” Akiko asked, calling everyone’s attention and gazes to move to Suga.

“I’m still not drinking in front of _you,”_ Suga corrected.

“But I hear you’re adorable when you’ve drunk a little alcohol,” Akiko cooed.

Suga looked to Kuroo. “Thanks for telling my mom,” he said sarcastically, his tone lacking any ounce of gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Kuroo said with a grin, obviously pretending not to hear the sarcasm and overdoing it. “You should thank Daichi too.”

“Thank you,” Suga said sweetly over the table to his best friend, who awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Suga’s eyes, his other hand busy with emptying the bottle of wine into the glasses.

“I think I’ve mentioned how precious you get when you’ve drunk a little to your mother as well,” Tanaka mused, his mouth full of noodles, the sauce messed at the corner of his lips in orange-y spot.

“Yeah, we were actually talking about it earlier in the kitchen,” Matsukawa tagged on, motioning with a finger between himself and Akiko.

“I talk about your drunken adorableness all the time with Akiko-san,” Yaku admitted casually.

Oikawa found it hard to bite back the laughter building inside him upon hearing the revelations one after another and he clamped his lips tight together not to make a sound. Suga was sitting right in front of him and would definitely hear it.

“How have I gotten such great friends?” Suga asked dully, blatantly sarcastic. “How will I ever repay the universe?”

Akiko laughed. “You send a lovely fruit basket,” she said, patting her son’s shoulder as if she was genuinely and with all seriousness in the world suggesting it.

Suga hummed, like he was considering it, and shrugged.  “Maybe I’ll just sacrifice them to Lucifer,” he stated, clearly unperturbed, and dug into his food as well, putting on a metaphorical end to the topic.

Everyone gladly went along with it when their lives were, once again, subtly threated by Suga, and focused on the food as well, sounds of appreciation of the delicious taste mixing with the flowing conversation.

“Suga, I need to borrow your charger again!” Bokuto burst inside in a hurry, interrupting the chatter and ongoing praise of the dinner, and skidded to a stop when he must’ve noticed Suga’s mother. “Akiko-san!”

“Koutarou, hello,” she smiled brilliantly at him. “Are you in a hurry?”

“My phone is about to die and I can’t find my charger.” Bokuto looked dejectedly down to the device in his hand. “I thought I could borrow Suga’s.”

“You know where I keep it,” Suga told him, at the same time that Akaashi followed Bokuto in, greeting everyone in his trademark calm manner.

“Is there space for us as well?” he asked, eyeing the lack of room around the low table.

“Of course, always,” Akiko replied instantly, and everyone scooted this way and that to create a place for Akaashi and Bokuto to squeeze in to.

First thing that Akaashi did, predictably, was pick up an opened wine bottle and pour himself a glass from it, and by the time he was sipping it with an expression that Oikawa could mirror to his own whenever he had his first cup of coffee in the morning, Bokuto had plucked in his phone to charge and was seated next to his boyfriend, eagerly gathering food for both of their plates that someone had magically whipped up from somewhere when Oikawa’s eyes had momentarily strayed to Suga.

Bokuto and Akaashi’s slightly disruptive arrival didn’t deter the feeling of a family gathering around the “dinner” table, but their news of what had been going on with them since the last time Akiko had seen them rather slipped into the overlapping conversations easily.

Oikawa didn’t pay much attention to listen onto what Bokuto and Akaashi were talking about with Akiko to the left of him. He knew what was going on in the couple’s lives, since he saw them frequently. Instead, he focused on Suga and the subtle warmth his body emanated in front of him.

He placed his hand on Suga’s shoulder, his thumb glancing on the skin on Suga’s neck, to subtly ask for his attention. “Suga-chan?” he asked softly, practically whispered, for he didn’t want to alert others to it.

Suga hummed in question. It sounded distracted, but Oikawa knew that he was listening.

“You okay?” he leaned forward on the couch so only Suga would hear his hushed voice. He hated that he couldn’t see Suga’s face when he sat in front of him and only saw the back of his head. He couldn’t read Suga’s expression from his position, so he had to ask, concern about Suga’s wandering thoughts rising it’s worrisome head inside him.

“Fine,” Suga turned his head to look over his shoulder at him with a gentle smile. “I’m enjoying the atmosphere.”

Oikawa believed him, and gently smiled back, his thumb tenderly rubbing on Suga’s neck.  

“Here Suga.”

Oikawa followed the sound of Akaashi’s soothing voice and saw him offer a glass of wine to Suga, who was warily eyeing it for a moment, biting his lip in thought, before he accepted it.  

Oikawa, however, took the glass out of Suga’s hand right away and set it aside.

“Why?” Akaashi asked bluntly, while Suga at the same time sounded curious more than anything else.

Oikawa didn’t respond. Just picked up the bowl of spicy and hot sauce that Akiko had concocted and passed it to Suga to the hand where he’d just taken the glass of wine out of.

“Thank you,” Suga whispered with a soft, appreciative smile, as they shared a moment of eye contact.

Oikawa nudged Suga’s side with his knee in acknowledgement and smiled to himself when Suga turned away. He could not help but wince internally when he watched Suga pour a liberal amount of the sauce over everything he’d piled on his small plate.

It wasn’t anything new to Oikawa, of course it wasn’t. He’d seen Suga do the same numerous times during the months they’d lived together. But it still managed to shock him whenever he witnessed Suga add anything spicy and hot and something that should come with a warning for death and burns and a proposal to marriage from the devil, like a normal person would add ketchup to a dish.

But he always, always winced as he imagined how spicy it would taste, how his throat and tongue would burn if he tried it.

But, on an added bonus of Suga’s horrifyingly dead taste buds and iron lined stomach, and to the absolute delight to Oikawa, it did turn his kisses slightly tinglier, and that much more tastier.

From the corner of his eye, Oikawa noticed Akaashi reach toward the glass that he’d taken from Suga and set aside, and he picked it up and handed it back to Akaashi.

“Why?” Akaashi asked again, in the same tone as he had before.

“Because Suga-chan doesn’t want to be drunk in front of his mother,” Daichi answered in a lowered voice so it wouldn’t carry to the others, but travel across the air for only Akaashi to hear under everyone else’s voices.

“If you want him to call you ‘Keiji’, you’re going to have to do it at another time,” he added as a tease and with a playful smirk.

Akaashi’s face remained stoic, and he was unresponsive to the tease. “That’s not why I offered this to him,” he replied seriously, and took a sip from the glass.

Oikawa saw how his gaze moved from him to Suga, and then back with a heavy meaning in his eyes, a thought in there that Oikawa could clearly read.

Akaashi must’ve noticed too, Oikawa realized, just as Daichi had noticed that Suga was on and off following the conversation in the living room, often slipping into thoughts that had nothing to do with what was going on around him.

Oikawa imperceptibly shook his head as a response, telling Akaashi that he couldn’t talk about it now, that this wasn’t the time or the company to openly discuss what was going on inside Suga’s head, what could possibly turn him so contemplative.

Akaashi seemed to understand, for he shifted his focus back to the story of mishaps that had occurred at Tanaka’s work, a story he was enthusiastically amusing everyone with.

Oikawa didn’t follow Akaashi’s example, not fully when he was preoccupied by Suga’s close proximity. He did listen, but most of his focus was on his hand as he moved it in a caressing motion over Suga’s hair, and an idea popped into his head at the touch of Suga’s silky hair on his palm.

He put his plate to the side to have full use of both of his hands and with gentle strokes he started to gather the hair at the top of Suga’s head, off of his forehead and up from the sides. Suga’s hair wasn’t overall long enough to reach into a ponytail at the top of his head, and the furthermost strands continuously slipped out of what he had tried to gather. He didn’t mind, though, and diligently and gently pulled more and more hair to the top of Suga’s head, only for the same strands to fall away again and again. When he was satisfied with what he had managed, he tapped on Suga’s shoulder with his free hand. Suga got what he was after without having to ask, slipping the hair tie he always had on him off of his wrist and held it over his shoulder for Oikawa to take.

Oikawa smiled at the non-spoken interaction as he took the offered bright orange hair tie and secured it around the ponytail he’d pulled on top of Suga’ head, and fastened it tight so it wouldn’t  come loose.

Once he was done, he leaned back to admire what he’d created, and tilted his head to the side to take a look from another angle. Suga was unbothered by it all, as always, by now probably used to the way Oikawa liked to play with his hair and tie what was long enough in a small ponytail on top of his head.

Oikawa tugged on a couple of strands of Suga’s hair at the back of his head, on some of the strands that didn’t reach into the adorable ponytail, to gain his attention. “Why are you fighting with Kuroo?”

Oikawa didn’t like not knowing, hated it when he was in the dark on matters that were important to him and that had anything to do with people that he cared about.

And Suga fighting with anyone was a foreign concept to Oikawa, and the only person he knew of that had fought with Suga, was him. But knowing that Suga had had a fight with Kuroo did add to the explanation of why Suga had been in such a weird mood, why he would be so in his head at times, probably hating the fact that he’d fought with Kuroo and trying to come up with ways to get past it, to make up.

“It’s nothing serious,” Suga sighed.

“What is it then?”

Suga sighed again, and Oikawa could sense how little he wanted to talk about it, he could see the tense line of Suga’s shoulders, which of course concerned Oikawa even more.

“If it’s nothing serious, why can’t you tell me?” he pushed on, and Suga moved to sit on the couch next to him, practically in his lap with the limited space left on the couch.

“It was about Terushima,” Suga whispered seriously, holding Oikawa’s gaze, but glancing around them. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear about it, and frankly, I don’t want to talk about it. So can we drop it?”

“Sure,” Oikawa replied slowly. He’d heard loud and clear the tenseness of Suga’s serious voice. “It’s dropped.” He raised his hands in a form of surrender, and then dropped them to rest on Suga’s thighs, curled over his legs. “I was just worried.”

“I know,” Suga said soothingly, running his hand down Oikawa’s arm, and the touch reminded Oikawa of the time Suga told him he loved him. “I get that.  It’s just...” He took a deep breath, and looked down.

Oikawa could see how his eyes were following the movements of his hand on his arm, slowly up and down. “He’s a sore subject to talk about with me right now, I get it.” Oikawa finished for him. He could understand Suga’s reluctance to talk about Terushima with him so soon after their fight about the man. He really could understand it if he so wanted to.

Suga nodded, lifting his gaze back to meet Oikawa’s. “It really isn’t something for you to worry about,” he repeated softly and leaned forward to kiss Oikawa.

“You know,” Oikawa started once Suga pulled away a fraction, just a breath between their lips, and paused as he took Suga’s hands into his. “I’m a big boy, I can handle things.”

“I know you’re a big boy,” Suga said with a mischievous smile and glint in his eyes.

“Can we not make metaphors about my penis right now? Your mother is right there?” Oikawa hissed.

Suga laughed, more breath than sound, and kissed Oikawa again, his hands pulled free from Oikawa’s to cup gently cup his jaw. “Fine.”

Once Suga was about to pull away from the chaste kiss, Oikawa placed his hand behind Suga’s neck to bring him for another one, and to keep him closer for a kiss that wasn’t so shy, even though they weren’t alone and quite literally surrounded by people probably openly observing them.

Oikawa could feel there was still something a little off between him and Suga after the fight about Terushima, even though they had hastily resolved it, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now, not without leaving the apartment. So, he tucked Suga closer in his lap, under his arm and against his side, to enjoy the warmth and laughter surrounding them.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“So,” Kuroo started casually when he sat down on the couch next to Oikawa. They had drawn the long straws and were exempt of doing the dishes and clean-up of the dinner.

“So?” Oikawa repeated distractedly, busy with his cell phone as he tried to make of sense of Yahaba’s drunken texting about his outing with some of their mutual friends.

_A traffic cone!_

_I’m taking it home!_

_And naming it Oikawa_

_Because it looks like you :P_

Oikawa frowned at the way the words were misspelled, barely understanding what was going on. What completely went above his head was the need to name a traffic cone after him. Why would a traffic cone remind Yahaba of him?

He was a hundred percent certain that Yahaba was extremely drunk, beyond drunk, and hoped that his friends were looking after him. He didn’t want anything to happen to his trusty hairdresser.

He was two hundred percent sure that even Yahaba couldn’t make sense of what he had been thinking when morning came and he’d see a traffic cone in his apartment.

And three-hundred-and-one percent absolutely certain that Yahaba wouldn’t be able to explain why he’d thought to name the traffic cone “Oikawa”. At least he seemed to be having fun.

“How are you?”

Oikawa paused in deciphering the texts, moved his gaze up from his cell phone, wondered why Kuroo would ask, and finally looked to the man on his left. “Why?”

Kuroo didn’t give a verbal answer, but he didn’t need to. Oikawa got what he meant from the way he was looking at him.

“Oh, you know,” he stated under his breath, and returned his eyes to his cell phone.

“That you and Suga fought?” Kuroo clarified, for whatever reason. They both knew what they were talking about, there was no real need for the clarification in Oikawa’s opinion. His fight with Suga wasn’t anything he wanted to broadcast to everyone, and talking about it with Kuroo would risk others overhearing about it, and being nosey as they all were, it would prompt them to ask about it.

“Yeah, I know.” Kuroo glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen, to the source of the animated chatter and general happiness that filled the space and gave it the invisible but tangible feel of warmth and togetherness.

“Are you okay?” Kuroo asked again when he was looking at Oikawa again.

“We’re fine,” Oikawa answered with a grin, steadfastly looking at his phone, but not really seeing it. He was growing more and more aware of everyone else’s presence. Even if they seemed busy with what they were doing, and were seemingly ignoring the two of them on the couch, it didn’t mean their attention wouldn’t shift at any given moment.

“Are you really?” Kuroo’s voice was low, like he was trying to whisper without being too obvious about it. “With Suga’s mom here, I don’t think you got to really talk about it.”

Oikawa sighed subtly, and put his phone away. He could tell that Kuroo wouldn’t just let this go. “Are you and Suga okay?” He looked at Kuroo pointedly with his eyebrows raised in an “I’m not going to listen to your bullshit” –way.

“We’ll be fine,” Kuroo answered in a rush, and tagged a smile to the end that didn’t last for more than three seconds, dropped when he continued. “It’s not the first time we’ve fought about someone he’s fucked.”

Oikawa was intrigued, an understanding at the back of his mind that Suga and Kuroo had fought about Terushima as well, but he was quite certain that this wasn’t the time to ask. And yet –

“About Konoha?” he asked about the ‘first time he’d fought with Suga’.

“Yeah. But are you two really okay?” Kuroo pressed on. “If you and Suga need to go talk, or need some space here to do it, just send Akiko-san to any of us.”

Oikawa cast a look towards the kitchen, grinned slightly at the sight of Matsukawa scrubbing the plates with a sour expression – the man hated doing dished with every fiber in his body – and returned his focus back to Kuroo as he pulled his ponytail off of the top of his head to free his hair, just to pull it into a ponytail again. “He said he’s not going to see Terushima anymore,” Oikawa revealed, disguising his voice to an almost-whisper.

Kuroo shifted on the couch to sit a little closer. “That’s probably because of what I said...” he admitted, speaking slowly, probably still mulling it over in his head.

“What did you say to him?” Oikawa asked, his hands busy retying his ponytail, a couple of strands of his hair falling to frame his face, stubbornly as always too short to reach the high ponytail, that had become a small bun over time.

Kuroo shook his head. “Suga will tell you when he’s ready to.”

There was something in Kuroo’s expression, in the way he carried himself, that told Oikawa he wouldn’t find out what Kuroo had said to Suga that evening, no matter how much he might needle him for an explanation.

Oikawa hummed, thinking, taking into account what he and Suga had fought about, Suga’s sudden one-eighty about Terushima, what he’d heard from Daichi and Iwaizumi, and now knowing that Suga had had a mini falling out with Kuroo.

“You know, Suga forgives quickly, easily really,” Kuroo mused, looking over to the kitchen again. “Just make him a dinner and offer him a mind blowing orgasm and you two are peachy again,” he turned back with a sly grin.

Like Oikawa didn’t know that already.

“Speaking of which,” Kuroo leaned in conspiratorially, his grin far from innocent. “Have you had the chance to use your toys with Suga yet?”

Oikawa’s eyes widened, panicked, and he smacked Kuroo on his chest to silence him, shooting a furtive look to the kitchen.

Kuroo cackled in response.

“You’re shameless,” Oikawa hissed at him, disbelief clear in his tone that Kuroo could change the subject so quickly and so effortlessly. And that Kuroo would bring up such a topic with Akiko around.

“I’m shameless?” Kuroo asked, suddenly serious and with an incredulously raised eyebrow. “I’m not the one who has hidden se –“

Oikawa cut Kuroo off by muffling his words with a hand clamped over his mouth before Kuroo had the chance to voice what he had hidden in his closet.

Kuroo pried the hand off. “Fine,” he accepted Oikawa’s refusal. “Sensitive,” he added with a smirk.

Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sensitive per say, just didn’t want to talk about sex with Suga where and when Suga’s mother could accidentally overhear.

In an effort to ignore Kuroo, and to make a show of it, he picked up his cell phone again.

It wasn’t needed, it would seem a minute or two later, when Kuroo’s phone rang, well buzzed, the vibrations so loud and powerful it sounded like a jagged bumblebee was dancing in Kuroo’s pocket.

“Hey, babe,” he answered with a wide grin, and just from that Oikawa would’ve known even without the endearment it was Tsukishima calling.

“Stop groaning, I know you love it when I call you babe.”

Oikawa chuckled lightly, amused by Kuroo’s distress.

“Stop groaning!” Kuroo said again, sounding scandalized. “I have company.”

Oikawa smiled, holding back the laughter that was bubbling inside him at Kuroo’s one sided dialogue. He heard Suga’s light giggle, though, and he looked over to confirm that it had really come from Suga. His boyfriend had taken over teasing Bokuto about his hair that had grown a third stripe with his roots growing in.

“Yeah, hold on,” Kuroo said then, drawing Oikawa’s eyes to him to catch a quick wave in the form of tingling fingers right before Kuroo slipped out of the apartment with a barely heard question of, “Why are you up so late, or early I guess?”

Left alone on the couch, Oikawa felt like an outsider with everyone else sharing jokes and banding together to tease someone, and made his way to the kitchen to join in. He didn’t stop until he was next to Suga, and slung his arm around his shoulders, feeling Suga’s laughter shake his body.

“You need to let your hair grow a bit more,” Hanamaki had joined Suga in teasing Bokuto. “That way you can dye your roots black again and that way have four stripes.”

“Guys, stop,” Bokuto whined with his mouth in a downturned pout, self-consciously tugging on his hair.

“But you would look so cool like that,” Hanamaki insisted.

“Really?” Bokuto looked up from the floor hopefully.

“I’ll help you dye your hair,” Akaashi volunteered.

Bokuto exclaimed happily and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend to land a wet smack of a kiss on his cheek.

Everyone laughed, amused by Bokuto’s antics, Akiko’s lighter giggle shining through.

“I’d forgotten how much fun you all are,” she sighed with a fond smile.

“And yet you wanted to come early to spend more time with everyone?” Suga asked with an incredulous note in his voice.

“Naturally,” she replied easily.

“Of course she did,” others tagged on in various forms of the phrase as if it was given.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Suga was already in bed, under the covers, his face illuminated by his cell phone screen as he was scrolling on it when Oikawa slipped into his room, teeth brushed and hair open and untangled, just for it to get tangled during sleep.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly, slipping under the covers as well and moving to the middle of the bed to be closer to Suga, to rest his head on Suga’s shoulder to see what he was doing.

“Just twitter,” Suga responded absent-mindedly, his thumb moving as he scrolled up on his timeline.

Oikawa didn’t read any of the tweets, or paid any mind to who Suga was following, and about three seconds or one slow breath later, Suga dropped the cell phone face down on his chest.

“I really want to have make up sex.”

“That’s not a thing,” Oikawa replied. “Trust me, I know from firsthand experience from a long relationship.”

“You also know what I meant,” Suga pointed out, his whisper softening the words.

Oikawa’s lips formed a slow smirk and he turned on his side and wrapped his arm around Suga. “With your mom behind a wall where she could hear us?”

“No,” Suga huffed. “And that’s the reason why I know we can’t have sex, or do anything really,” he spoke in a whisper, his fingernails slowly traveling up and down on Oikawa’s forearm wrapped around his waist, eliciting light tickles to travel under Oikawa’s skin. “I just wanted to let you know, that if we could, that’s what I would really like to do now.” He turned his head towards Oikawa, who lifted his up to look at Suga.

“I know,” Oikawa said and placed a kiss under Suga’s jaw. “I would really like that too.”

Suga hummed, a pleased sound, as his fingers kept moving on Oikawa’s arm, the touch light and gentle, enthralling and enticing.

“How about a make up make out?” Oikawa suggested then, and he saw even in the darkness how Suga slowly smiled.

He thought to take advantage of the sweet moment, and launched to kiss Suga with about a hundred kisses – on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose and his chin, under his jaw, and finally to his giggling lips.

Suga was quietly giggling, causing Oikawa’s heart to flutter as he barely heard it and more felt against his cheek, his lips, his hands.

“If you think that was making out, you need more practice,” Suga commented in a whisper, his fingers of one hand tangled in Oikawa’s hair.

“Hmm, teach me then,” Oikawa smirked and rolled on his back, pulling Suga by his shirt to lie on top of him.

In the next second Suga had him pressed against the mattress, kissing him like his life depended on it, licking into his mouth when he gasped for breath. Oikawa let his hands wander on Suga’s skin on his back, on his sides, wherever his preoccupied mind couldn’t comprehensively _tell_ them to, but where they went on their own, as if his hands sought to touch every inch of Suga’s skin, to feel the warmth his body emanated.

Suga hummed when he moved to kiss down Oikawa’s neck, his lips leaving warm and soft spot of adoration and want to linger on his skin.

“You smell good,” Suga noted between kisses, his nose gently pressing to the corner of Oikawa’s jaw as his mouth worked on a lower spot on his neck.

“Of course I do,” Oikawa replied, unthinking, unable to really bother with a brain to mouth filter when he felt so good.

Suga huffed against his skin and lifted his head up. “You’re really subtly smug.”

“You still love me.”

Suga didn’t respond right away, and during the short moment of silence that followed Oikawa’s statement, he worried that he had somehow said the wrong thing, that his focus on the pleasant buzz of passion coursing in his veins had made him imagine he actually said anything at all.

Until –

Until Suga softly said, “Yeah, I do.” and placed their lips together again, only once, in a lieu of a goodnight kiss.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Good morning, Tooru,” Akiko wished brightly when Oikawa stumbled sleepily to the kitchen, smacking his shoulder lightly against the doorway of the hallway in his stupor.

“Good morning,” he mumbled his greeting, scratching his head, his fingers getting caught in the few tangles there. Maybe he should get his hair cut, at least a little.

“Is Koushi still asleep?”

“Mm-hmm,” Oikawa confirmed, his eyes barely open, and yawned. It wasn’t usual that he stumbled around sleepily like a newborn fawn, but he had been drawn to the kitchen by the lovely smell.

“How about you?” he managed to ask through another yawn, distorting some of his words weirdly, but she seemed to catch the gist of it.

“Really well, thank you,” she smiled sweetly at him. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Oikawa moaned quietly and slumped over the island, pillowing his head on his arms. He heard the light tingle of Akiko’s giggle.

“Why don’t you go wake Koushi up?” she suggested, and Oikawa pushed himself from the island to do just that when she promised with a sweet smile to have coffee ready for him when he got back. It would seem that just the flash of sweetness from Sugawara of any gender could get him to do just about anything for them. Even defy morning sleepiness and a dose of a little more naptime.

He managed to avoid walking into the same wall by the hallway this time, waking up a little more with every step he took towards his room, where he knew Suga was still sleeping.

From experience he knew that Suga wasn’t the easiest to wake up when the man had made the decision not to wake up before he was ready to, and he formed a foolproof plan to make sure that Suga would wake up.

Once he’d made sure to close the door after him, he took up some speed with a couple of running steps, and jumped on the bed, landing successfully, and maybe a little painfully, on Suga’s stomach.

It might not have been the most refined plan, or the most thought through. But it was effective.

Suga groaned, jerked awake by Oikawa’s rough handling, but he figured it was just payback for all the times Suga had woken him up. Not that he had minded the repeated slaps on his butt when Suga was feeling it, but he would’ve liked to snooze a moment longer as well.

“Good morning, honey,” Oikawa sing-songed overtly sweetly. “Did you sleep well?”

“I can’t remember anymore,” Suga answered with an annoyed huff as he tried to push Oikawa off of him.

Oikawa resisted the push by simply laying limply where he was, his body becoming heavier when he was completely relaxed, knowing it and using it to his advantage. Suga didn’t try to push for long, probably due to the sleep still clinging onto him, and once Oikawa was certain that Suga was done, he moved the covers a little to see Suga better.

“Remember when you woke me up the first time?” he asked softly, thinking back to it, how Suga had surprised him with his forwardness, which really shouldn’t have surprised him when he knew Suga so well.

“Remember when I used to have intact intestines?” Suga asked back, weakly pushing on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“I’m not that heavy,” Oikawa protested indignantly.

“No,” Suga said slowly. “But you elbowed me hard when you landed on me.”

“Oh,” Oikawa pouted a little and moved so he could throw the covers off of Suga, to attend to the hurt part of Suga’s body. “I’m sorry,” he pouted more, to enforce Suga to forgive him for the rough handling, and slid Suga’s shirt up. “Where?” He let his hands wonder on Suga’s newly exposed midriff, and Suga shied away a little from the touch, squirming away a little.

“Here?” Oikawa asked as he purposefully changed his touch to be more tickly and less seductive, and blew a raspberry on his stomach.

Suga laughed at the sensation, bending in half as he tried to bring his legs up to protect his stomach from further tickling, and simultaneously trying to turn away from Oikawa.

“Just let me sleep a little longer,” Suga managed to grumble through his laughter, still squirming away from Oikawa’s eagerly reaching hands and hungry lips.

“No, I can’t. Your mother made fried rice and it’s going to go cold.”

Suga stopped moving, and Oikawa instantly stopped tickling him. “Fried rice? For breakfast?”

“She’s your mom,” Oikawa shrugged.

Suga brought his arm up and dropped it over his eyes. “I hate that that phrase explains her behavior so well. Or at all.”

“I’m guessing there was a lot of leftover rice from last night,” Oikawa chuckled and leaned up to place a sweet kiss, or ten of them, on Suga’s cheek.

“Wake up,” he purred into Suga’s ear, and nuzzled on his neck, continued to leave soft kisses there too.

“What you’re doing is actually putting me back to sleep.”

 _Oh yeah?_ Oikawa thought and mouthed on Suga’s neck with more intensity, using his teeth a little.

“Tooru –“ Suga cut off for a quiet moan, the sound awakening something primal that fed on passion in Oikawa.

“I want to lick your collarbones,” Oikawa mouthed against Suga’s neck, moving further down till he was lightly biting on the protruding, sharp bones under the skin.

He felt Suga shiver under him and go absolutely still when the shivers had passed through his body, literally go immobile, not even breathing, and he looked up to find Suga already studying him, something Oikawa couldn’t name behind his eyes.

“We can’t have sex right now,” Suga said darkly, his hands moving deliberately up on Oikawa’s chest, his fingertips stopping by his collarbones. His eyes moved down to his hands, that something that Oikawa had wondered on flashing brightly in them, and Oikawa realized that that something was disappointment.

And Oikawa knew why they couldn’t have sex right now. They definitely couldn’t get sweaty and moaning with Suga’s mothe – Oikawa cut himself off and quickly pushed her out of his mind, they didn’t need her in any form, just a mere passing thought or an actual presence, at that moment in his room, in his bed. He didn’t need to have something motherly in his mind when he had Suga pliant under him.

“We haven’t had sex in three days,” he commented instead, the thought coming to his mind and out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

“I know,” Suga whispered, sighed with gravel, his eyes following his fingers’ movement over Oikawa’s collarbones, fortunately for Suga, revealed by his generously gaping collar.

“How are you holding up?” Oikawa feigned the concern, smirking behind it.

Sure, Suga had gone without sex for months after his break up with Terushima, and could probably weather well a few days of celibacy now, even though he was dating Oikawa. But since they had had sex almost daily since the first time, Oikawa was quite certain, knowing Suga and how he still somehow lived on sex, that he might be more than just a little bit horny.

Suga moved his gaze to meet his, his fingers stopped in middle of his collarbones. “I’m starved,” he stated in a whisper, and moved his legs to wrap them around Oikawa’s waist.

Oikawa smirked full bloom. “Starved for sex?”

Suga confirmed it with a nod, and just to be _him_ and to tease a little, Oikawa ground down.

Suga gasped, his hands shooting to Oikawa’s upper arms and digging his fingers into the flesh. “Stop that,” he whispered through his teeth biting on his bottom lip, his eyes closed and breathing measured, legs falling off of Oikawa to limply lie on the between on both sides of him.

Oikawa laughed breezily into Suga’s neck, and breathed him in. He smelt of his laundry detergent, Oikawa was always glad to note. “When Kuroo and Bokuto told me that you’re practically sex-crazed, and when Daichi later on confirmed it, I didn’t think it would be like this.” He raised himself on his arms to look at Suga, and fondly brushed his nose on Suga’s.

“Would be like what?” Suga inquired innocently, too innocently for someone who was definitely hard already against Oikawa’s thigh.

“Just this,” Oikawa shrugged. “Like, us.”

A soft smile spread on Suga’s lips, his eyes fond like Oikawa had never seen before.  

Oikawa wanted to capture the smile, wanted to taste it, feel it against his lips. So he kissed Suga, deep and deliberate, never wanting to stop. It left Suga gasping into his mouth, and a moment later both of them breathless, and quickly repeating the kiss.

The fact that they couldn’t have sex at the back of their minds kept them from going further, kept their wandering hands to sweetly hold onto each other, and gradually the all-consuming make out slowed down to chaste kisses, soft brushes of their lips together, the beats between kisses filled with sweet smiles and tender caresses of hands on necks, or collarbones, jaw, cheeks, and through hair, only to have their hands find one another’s and their fingers intertwining to hold on tighter and closer.

Oikawa loved every single second of it. If he was offered the chance to spend his entire life in bed like this with Suga just trading soft kisses back and forth, he would accept in a heartbeat.

“Tooru,” Suga sighed his name, his fingers curling into Oikawa’s hair.

Oikawa kissed him softly with a hum.

Suga didn’t continue with whatever he meant to say, with whatever made him say Oikawa’s name, prompting him to rise on his elbow to be able to fully look at Suga, his free hand traveling under Suga’s shirt and stopping over his side, his fingers slotting to the faint spaces between Suga’s ribs that he could feel through Suga’s smooth skin.

“What?” he asked, and leaned down for a peck before Suga could answer.

Suga giggled quietly into the kiss, and into the next that Oikawa placed on his lips.

“Why did you say my name?” Oikawa curled and flattened his hand on Suga’s side, feeling each expansion of Suga’s chest as he breathed.

“Just wanted to say it,” Suga whispered, and brought Oikawa’s head down for another sweet graze of their lips together, his arms looping around Oikawa’s neck to keep him closer, their bodies pressed together from head to toe.

Oikawa smiled at the thought of Suga just wanting so say his name out loud. There was something so utterly adorable in it, and in the way Suga admitted it so freely but still quietly, like it was a secret that he only allowed Oikawa to know, but a secret he willingly parted with.

It was a short kiss, sweet. Oikawa pulled only a breath apart, their noses brushing.

He contemplated on calling Suga’s name, and knew that ‘Koushi’ carried more weight of importance, it would be more fitting to the moment that had been preluded with soft kisses and loving touches and lingering looks.

But he’d have to say it in a specific way, especially now that the only person who called Suga “Koushi” was only a few walls away in the kitchen.

“Suga,” he whispered softly against Suga’s cheek, and followed it with an innocent kiss in the same place, as if pressing the whisper of Suga’s name there.

He wanted to be sweet, and caring, and loving, and the most thoughtful boyfriend in the existence. He concentrated on his tone –

And changed his mind right before his tongue curled around the name.

_“Koushi.”_

Suga groaned and pushed laughing Oikawa off of him. “You’ve ruined the moment,” Suga whined, pushing and pushing on Oikawa’s chest and shoulders to get him off of him.

Oikawa was too busy laughing to hold himself up, and his body, tense from laughter but limp with inaction, pressed Suga into the mattress.

“You’re awful,” Suga whined, while Oikawa tried to muffle his uncontrollable snickers into the crook of Suga’s neck. “I hate you.”

“You love me,” Oikawa muffled into Suga’s skin, and bit him there, only to have a legitimate reason – in his own opinion – to kiss Suga there.

“Stop sounding so smug about it,” Suga said breathlessly, result of the bite, Oikawa was sure. Suga’s hands weren’t pushing him off anymore, as if he had accepted his fate to be trapped under Oikawa’s body.

Oikawa had nothing against it, of course, and remained lying on Suga for a prolonged moment, sharing his body heat with him, but rose to rest his weight on his elbows anyway. He wanted to see Suga, he wanted to be in a position where it would be easy to kiss Suga.

Suga had his eyes closed, his breathing was slow, and anyone would’ve been fooled to think that he’d fallen back asleep. Only Oikawa knew that he wasn’t sleeping – the slow trailing of Suga’s fingertips along the seam of Oikawa’s shirt and the back and forth of Suga’s foot against Oikawa’s ankle hinted of how aware Suga still was of his surroundings.

The touches were still idle, barely there, and most definitely absent-minded.

Oikawa leaned down to place a tender kiss on Suga’s lips, to bring him back from the thoughts he’d fallen into when he was crushed to the bed.

Suga hummed and his fingers stopped moving, his hand planted against Oikawa’s waist, his leg hitched a little higher over Oikawa’s.

The corners of Oikawa’s lips curled into a faint smile, the feeling of accomplishment blooming in his chest as he brushed a feather light kiss to Suga’s lips and tangled his fingers in Suga’s hair.

“Remember yesterday when you told me you had something to tell me?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Suga affirmed, yawning adorably sleepily. How his sleepiness was still a factor of his being was beyond Oikawa, but he pushed past it, accepting it and moving onto things that he wanted to find out about, to more pressing matters. Something in the way Suga had said just day before had stuck with Oikawa as intrigue.

And he was very intrigued.

“What was it?”

Suga opened his eyes to regard Oikawa, and they stayed quiet for a moment. Oikawa waited while Suga must’ve thought... Who knew what he was thinking, but Oikawa still waited, his other hand gently drifting up and down on Suga’s side, still voluntarily trapped under Suga’s shirt, his fingertips barely touching his skin.

“Your mom called me,” Suga finally said, and closed his eyes again.

But Oikawa barely noticed it as the world as he knew would consistently keep turning, stopped.

Because...

Because...

He tried to reboot his brain, restart his heart.

His mother calling Suga just wasn’t possible.

Why on earth, heaven and hell would she call Suga?

“Tooru?” Suga propped gently, his tone soothing and calming. “Are you still with me?” Oikawa felt fingertips ghost along his arm in a tentative touch. “Red One to Red Leader,” Suga said with a faint smile.

And my, did Oikawa love Suga for using Star Wars reference to bring him back.  

“What did she want?” Oikawa asked carefully, cautiously, as if knowing the answer would change the world as he knew it, maybe cause a natural disaster of some kind that would be the cause of a lot of lost lives.

Suga’s was looking at him, evaluating him really. Oikawa didn’t want to know what Suga must’ve been seeing on his face, what kind of an expression his face had transformed to.

“She asked if they could come and see you, see you receive your diploma. Maybe to the party afterwards.”

Oikawa sat up quickly on his knees, as if jolted up by an electric shock, his heart beating a million beats per minute, his hands over his knees, curling tightly over his kneecaps. “Please tell me you’re kidding. Because I’m both hoping that you are and that you aren’t.”

“I’m serious.”

Oikawa was still long enough for a sculptor to make a perfect rendering of him with a chisel on a stone as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that apparently his mother had called Suga because she apparently wanted to see him graduate.

No, his brain couldn’t do it.

It downright refused to process the thoughts, all of them on their own _and_ strung together like that.

“I need coffee to process this fucker-y.” Oikawa moved to the edge of the bed like he was burned and stood up. He heard Suga push the covers off and a sound the mattress made as he must’ve gotten up as well, but he barely paid any attention to it.

“Tooru,” Suga called softly but sharply, and took a hold on his wrist, grounding him with just that, stopping his mind from falling into a tailspin. “Calm down. I told her not to come.”

Oikawa turned his head slowly to look down to Suga. “How did she even hear about the whole thing?” he asked bitingly, his words towards Suga, but voice for the universe. _How?_

“I’m guessing Iwaizumi.”

_Of course._

Their mother’s still talked to each other, according to Iwaizumi, who talked a lot to his mother.

Oikawa took a deep breath as he realized that must be true. He let Suga step closer and let himself be calmed down by Suga’s gentle tone and pattern of speech. Even though he was internally still freaking out, he could tell how careful Suga was being, and how little Suga had to try in order to sound comforting.

 “Shit,” Oikawa cursed as a form of a sigh.

“She actually called me a couple of weeks ago, and I told her that it was probably a bad idea for them to come, but that I’d ask you.” Suga paused as he breathed. “But I never got the nerve to ask you, to mention the call. I knew how bad your relationship is with them, so it was really hard to bring up the call, and in the end I just called her back one day and told her not to come.”

“You keep saying “they”.” Oikawa kept frowning with worry and panic, Suga’s hold on his wrist and his other hand slowly and tenderly stroking up and down his back, the warmth and feel of security Suga’s presence brought him the only things keeping him from running to the edge of the world. He hadn’t seen his mother in almost ten years, a couple of years since he’d last seen his father.

“She kept speaking of “us”, I assumed she meant her and your father.”

Oikawa leaned back against Suga’s desk, fitting his butt to the edge of it as he thought.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her call before. I just...” Suga spoke hurriedly, stepping closer to Oikawa, in between his slightly outstretched legs, and then paused. “I really didn’t know how to tell you about it.” He brought his hands to cup Oikawa’s cheeks and gave him a chaste kiss, the gesture filled with care.

Oikawa looked at Suga, and saw how genuinely sorry and troubled he seemed. And he really couldn’t blame Suga for not bringing up the call. Oikawa would... Who knew what he might’ve done.

“Why are you telling me now?”

“You deserve to know. I didn’t want to keep it from you forever,” Suga said with a small smile, and he slid his hands lower, his left hand to the side of Oikawa’s neck, his fingertips grazing softly on his nape under the tangles of his hair, his right hand to Oikawa’s chest, over his heart. Oikawa was certain Suga could feel how fast his heart was beating, still a little jittery and frantic after the scare he experienced. “In case they decide to come anyway, I don’t want it to be a surprise or a shock to you. I wanted you to somehow, maybe, prepare for it. Just in case,” Suga finished with his voice fading to a whisper.

Oikawa touched his forehead to Suga’s and closed his eyes as he took a couple of deep breaths.

His mother knew that he was about to graduate his post-grad. And she wanted to come and witness it. Why?

It would be... Oikawa would grumble with resignation that it was “ _fine”_ if his father came. Just _fine,_ and nothing else. They’d kept in touch, sort of. In the way that his father would send a short email asking how he was doing, and he would take his sweet time replying that he was doing fine, and his father would reply that they were fine as well. And that was that, once a year.

But his mother... She really couldn’t come.  Suga had done right telling her no.

“I can’t believe she called you,” Oikawa breathed after a long moment where he just thought it over and over again, trying to find any reason for her to want to see him, to contact Suga, and coming up with nothing. “How does she even know about you? That you’re the person to ask this from?”

Suga leaned back a little and met Oikawa’s eyes. “She started the conversation by checking that I’m your roommate. I’m guessing again that she knew this because of Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa nodded, but stayed quiet to let Suga continue.

“And then she introduced herself, and I just about lost my mind.”

Oikawa chuckled weakly.

“And she explained why she was calling.”

“Was she polite? Or...?” Oikawa winced as he asked, not sure if he even wanted to know, but something within him made him ask.

“She spoke as if she was conducting a business meeting,” Suga answered thoughtfully, and with a smile that suggested he was a little bit amused by it, as he moved his hands to the crooks of Oikawa’s neck, his fingertips meeting at Oikawa’s nape.

Oikawa could perfectly imagine his mother’s voice.

“Should I have told them to come instead?” Suga asked, his voice timid, his fingers curled around the collar of Oikawa’s shirt.

Oikawa shook his head vigorously and finally reached his hands out and behind Suga’s back to bring him closer to him. “No, you did the right thing. She can’t come.”

Suga nodded, and exhaled with relief, gave Oikawa a kiss on his lips and wrapped him in a tight hug, almost like he tried to put the broken pieces of him together with it.

“Did you tell your mom about the call?” Oikawa asked into the hug, against Suga’s shoulder.

“No. I didn’t tell anyone about it. Not Iwaizumi, Daichi, or Makki and Mattsun,” Suga reassured, softly listing Oikawa’s closest friends, his hand moving on Oikawa’s back again, so calming and grounding. “Would you like that coffee now?”

Oikawa disentangled himself from Suga and offered a smile, a little bit fake but the genuine feeling of it was there even if the will wasn’t. “I’m going to need it shot up straight into my vein.”

Suga laughed softly, and kissed Oikawa hard. “I’m not going to let you shoot it up,” he stated seriously, but with a smile that spoke of immense care and love. “I will let you snort it if you want to, though.”

And Oikawa couldn’t help but laugh too. Something about Suga, the way he looked at him, spoke to him, handled him, helped him breathe as he went through the processing of the news, made Oikawa so unbelievably grateful for having him in his life. Even though he was still anxious, scared and absolutely confused. But Suga had helped him deal with it. And he appreciated the fact that Suga was _Suga_ even more than he had ever before.

“I’ll see you in the kitchen,” Suga promised then, with another kiss, as they went in different directions when they left Oikawa’s room.

As rattled as Oikawa still was by the new troubling news, he tried his best to not let it show. So, he faked to still be a little sleepy, just so he wouldn’t look like he was a deer caught in headlights, or someone trying to do a complicated math problem in his head. He didn’t want Akiko to ask him what was wrong. He didn’t want to explain. Or lie.

“Is Koushi up?”

Oikawa looked up from the floor to Akiko and forced a smile on his face. “He’s sleepy and grumpy,” he replied, earning a fond and light laughter from Akiko. “But he’s up.”

“Good. I want to make sure he eats before we go.”

“You’re going somewhere?” Oikawa asked as he sat down and started to gather his, most probably messed up by Suga’s hands, hair into a small ponytail high at the back of his head.

“No, you and me.”  Akiko made a gesture with her hand indicating her and him. “I’m going to take you shopping for a nice suit.”

Oikawa was pleased and, honestly, a little confused. Something he actually welcomed right that moment. “You want to take me shopping?” he checked, his hands paused in the act of tying the ponytail with a bright neon blue hair tie.

“Yes,” she replied, as if it was the easiest and most obvious thing in the world. “Of course,” she chuckled then, apparently caught on to Oikawa’s perplexed expression. “I think getting your thesis approved deserves to be celebrated in a new suit.”

Oikawa couldn’t even come up with the words to tell her she didn’t need to do that, that he was grateful for the offer, but he had a suit already.

He just couldn’t come up with them.

There was a feeling surging in his chest blocking them.

“Darling,” she reached for his hand and cradled it in hers. “Will you let me buy you a suit?”

Oikawa nodded, unable to find his voice.

“She’s going to try and persuade you to go with the craziest pattern she can find,” Suga whispered from behind him as his arms wound around his middle and shoulders. The hug and Suga’s body pressed against his back, providing warmth helped him process the weight of Akiko’s caring, helped him carry it.

“I would love one,” Oikawa responded, beaming at Akiko, who fondly looked at them before she turned away, maybe to give them a moment, maybe just to tend to the breakfast.

“Even if the pattern of the jacket was wildly different from the pattern of the pants?”

“That would be even better.”

Suga hummed softly against his neck, and Oikawa felt Suga’s lips gently press on his skin. “Are you okay?”

Oikawa knew he asked because of their earlier conversation about _his_ mother. He didn’t let himself delve further into thoughts that had anything to do with his mother, though, and quickly pushed it all away, favoring the thoughts, and feelings of Suga’s touch.

“Mm-hm,” he replied quietly to affirm that he was okay, for Suga who he knew would worry about him if he didn’t, and turned his head so it touched on Suga’s.

Suga inhaled sharply after a moment and stepped to the side of him. “She’s going to make you try on every single suit she lays her eyes on.”

Oikawa chuckled at Suga’s exasperated tone and roll of eyes.

“I don’t let her pamper me so she’s picked you for that.”

“I don’t pick them,” Akiko cut in as she met Oikawa’s eyes. “They’re destined to come to me,” she said, but could’ve just as well said “you were destined to be here for me to pamper you”.

“Right, of course. How could I be so wrong?” Suga nodded seriously at his mother, and turned back to Oikawa. “I hope you weren’t planning on getting more last minute studying in for today. You’re going to be gone for hours. She’ll treat you to lunch, no matter how much you try and protest.”

“It’s fine,” Oikawa assured him with a smile, already looking forward to spending some time with Akiko. He smoothed Suga’s bed head with a gentle hand. “I would be honored to spend my whole day with her.” As long as she didn’t come up with something that could make him overly emotional.

“No wonder you’re her favorite,” Suga whispered, seemingly only to himself but it still made Oikawa smile, as he sat down next to Oikawa, their chairs close enough for Suga to throw his legs to Oikawa’s lap and lean against his side.

“I’m going to go get ready,” Akiko said, drying her hands on the kitchen towel.

“Are we in a hurry?” Oikawa checked.

“No, no,” she shook her head with a gentle smile. “Take your time, finish your breakfast, kiss Koushi. We have the whole day.”  She patted his shoulder as she walked past him, and Oikawa relaxed and started to enjoy his breakfast, Suga practically snoozing against his shoulder.

Suga didn’t let him snort the coffee grounds. Not even when he threatened to consume the whole bag sitting in the cupboard above the coffee maker if Suga didn’t at least try and act like he was awake.

“Maybe you should have coffee so you’d wake up,” Oikawa suggested.

“But you’re so comfortable,” Suga wiggled closer to him and exaggeratedly burrowed his head to the crook of Oikawa’s neck and shoulder, wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s waist. “Why would I want to wake up when I can sleep against you?”

Oikawa shook with his silent laughter and nudged Suga’s head with his. “Wake up.”

Suga growled. “No.”

Oikawa continued to silently laugh as Suga nuzzled further into him, almost tipping him off of the chair.

“I’ll give you a kiss if you wake up.”

Oikawa’s suggestion stopped Suga’s demanding fidgeting. A beat followed, and Oikawa waited for Suga’s reply for another beat, occupying himself with sipping the coffee Akiko had made him earlier.

“Are all your future bribes going to be kisses?”

Oikawa smirked as he put his cup down. “I can bribe you with sex too,” he reminded Suga with a purposefully lowered voice.

Suga was still resting still against his side, the only indication that he wasn’t frozen, or dead, was his steady breathing.

With an inhale that sounded like a soft gasp, Suga lifted his head up and moved a fraction away from Oikawa, giving both of them their own space back. “By the way,” he started casually and paused to eat a bite of the omuraisu Akiko had somehow managed to whip up as well from Oikawa’s plate. “When mom leaves, we’re definitely having sex,” he stated, as if there was no alternative. “Mark it down to your calendar, a whole day just for sex, in bed, with me.”

Oikawa sputtered, but leaned in with interest as he slid his fingers under the hem of Suga’s shirt to grab onto it and tug on it. “If you’re that horny, we could just go to a hotel or something right now,” he suggested semi-seriously in a lowered voice and a raise of his eyebrows.

“I’m pretty sure Suga could ask his mother to leave for an hour or so, just so you two could get your freak on,” Kuroo commented idly.

Oikawa looked at him in annoyance, and a little bit of surprise. He hadn’t heard the sound of their front door opening and closing, indicating that someone had arrived. “Hi. Go away.” He pushed on Kuroo’s face with his free hand.

Kuroo took a hold of Oikawa’s wrist to push the hand down from his face, leaning back a little so Oikawa wouldn’t even reach him any longer. “Just saying,” he defended, annoyance in his voice as well when Oikawa tried to swipe at him. “I bet she’d be cool about it.”

“I’m not asking her that,” Suga cut in, a frown between his brows, as if the mere idea of asking his mother to leave because he wanted to fuck Oikawa, because he’d definitely have to give a reason to her leaving, was bothering him.

“Go away,” Oikawa told Kuroo again, wanting to use cruder words, _a curse,_ to say it but felt like he couldn’t with Akiko visiting, and reached towards Kuroo to give him a little shove so he would finally take the hint. Which he did after loitering a little longer by them with a smirk set in his knowing expression – as if he knew that Oikawa couldn’t say what he had wanted to say – definitely just to irk them, Oikawa was sure.

When Kuroo finally moved on to the couch with his serving of breakfast, once he finally got that Oikawa had meant the unsaid “Fuck off” with grave consequences, and Oikawa was satisfied with the distance between them and Kuroo’s back, he turned back to Suga, asking for his attention with another series of short tugs on his shirt. “A day filled with sex does sound good. When is your mother leaving?”

Although there had been a day set for Akiko’s departure, and Oikawa knew what it was, he didn’t trust it to be correct anymore with her arriving a day early.

“Not soon enough,” Suga answered with a slight grumble, as if he was thoroughly inconvenienced but tried not to show it.

Oikawa rested his chin in his hand and observed Suga and his subtle impatience. He smiled, enthralled by how the tips of the tallest strands of Suga’s hair resting over his forehead were long enough to get momentarily tangled in his eyelashes now and then. In fact, Suga’s bangs could cover his eyes completely, but Oikawa usually missed it, forgot about it, as Suga tended to brush them to the sides.

Oikawa leaned further over the table, rising a little on his elbow as his other hand swiped Suga’s hair to the side from his forehead.

“Your hair has grown long,” he whispered in awe when Suga looked up to him. “You should get it cut.”

Suga blinked once, as if he needed a moment to thoroughly process what Oikawa just said. That someone had said spoken to him.

“I can still see,” he replied quietly, but seemed far away, not just in another room inside his head but in a completely different universe. Had it really been that easy for Suga to slip into it in such a short amount of time? Was it really that easy for Suga to forget himself into contemplation when something was bothering him?

Oikawa hummed thoughtfully. He could see that something was still bothering Suga. There were times when it wasn’t evident in Suga’s behavior, but then a something would pass behind Suga’s eyes, like Oikawa could actually see a thought come to Suga and take him away to this other world where it was safe for Suga to think about it.

It was clear that whatever had happened after their fight and before Oikawa came home the day before was still bothering Suga.

Honestly, Suga really seemed to be himself, smiling and being sarcastic to his mother, teasing his friends and being sweet with Oikawa, but there were those moments in between, when no one’s attention was on him, when he fell silent and contemplative. Even his usual smile, whenever he made the effort to flash it to appear as if nothing was wrong, didn’t reach his eyes fully, as if a shadow of his thoughts remained there.

“Are you ready, Tooru?” Akiko interrupted their too short moment of comfortable togetherness, but Oikawa knew she didn’t do it purpose.

“If I can leave in my pajamas and my teeth unbrushed,” Oikawa replied, turning to look at her.

“Oh,” Akiko shook her head, as if clearing it from a daze. “I’m so sorry. I’m just excited.” She offered a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay,” Oikawa chuckled good-naturedly and finished his coffee. He knew he’d have to go without his second cup that morning, but maybe that was okay. Maybe they could stop by somewhere so he could get a cup of coffee to go.

“I won’t take long,” he told Akiko then and pushed himself off of the stool and leaned over the island to bring Suga into a quick kiss. “Are you coming with us?”

“No way.” Suga answered, apparently horrified by the idea of shopping with his mother, clearly back in the present and in the kitchen.

“Alright,” Oikawa chuckled, leaning back to take another appreciative look of Suga before he disappeared to get ready to leave the apartment.

 

“Wish me luck,” he whispered to Suga’s ear from behind a moment later, dressed and ready to be faced with other people. He wrapped his arms around Suga’s waist in a back hug and kissed his cheek sweetly.

“She’s actually really fun to shop with,” Suga whispered back with a soft smile, turning his head to the side to look at him.

Oikawa chuckled. “I need to hear more about your adventures into shopping with your mom.” There must’ve been a reason why Suga would act like he’d equate shopping with his mother with going to a haunted house – although, Suga would probably love going into a haunted house – and then admit in secret that the experience of shopping with his mother wasn’t all that bad.

“You can ask her,” Suga suggested. “That’ll give you something to talk about.”

“We’ll be too busy talking about you,” Oikawa teased, let go of Suga and skipped away before Suga could quip back.

“Hey,” Suga called after him anyway. “Don’t let her buy us a new microwave.”

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Would you terribly mind if I didn’t think of you as the boyfriend of my son right now?”

“Mm,” Oikawa mused. “Depends on why.”

“I feel better about shopping to one of my boys. I don’t feel appropriate about shopping for my son’s boyfriend.”

Oikawa smiled, understanding exactly what she meant. He had already decided on the train that he would think of Suga’s mother as Akiko-san, and not his boyfriend’s mother.

“I actually prefer that too,” he admitted.

“Good,” she stated with a definitive nod, slung their arms together, and lead Oikawa to the first store.

They were instantly greeted by the store employee with a preppy attitude, ready to serve and what not. Oikawa didn’t think too much about it first, until he heard the hint of flirting leave the young man’s mouth as he addressed Akiko.

Oikawa wasn’t sure if she noticed it, for she acted like she hadn’t, but it could’ve been for a myriad of reasons.

Nevertheless, in no time they were whisked deeper into the store filled with the biggest variety of different suits Oikawa had ever seen.

And in even shorter time Oikawa was already trying on a suit jacket, one of the many that had already caught Akiko’s eye.

“We can alter any jacket to your specific measurements if you find something that you’d like but it doesn’t fit,” the young man eagerly explained as he presented another jacket to Oikawa, one Akiko had pulled from the depths of the multiple colorful, and also predominantly dark colored, racks.

Oikawa raised his unimpressed eyebrow. “Even for tomorrow?”

“Oh, anything for Sugawara-san,” the store employee, who Oikawa was sure had already introduced himself to him but whose name still escaped Oikawa.

He wasn’t surprised by the eager promise to fulfil Akiko’s wishes – the young man had really taken a sudden liking to Akiko, and Oikawa still wasn’t sure what to think of it.

He didn’t think it was his place to approve or disapprove, but he felt tugging deep inside him that maybe he should say something, maybe just point it out.

“I’ll be right back,” the store employee said, cutting Oikawa’s thoughts short once he had assisted the jacket on him, and was off in a heartbeat.

Oikawa took the opportunity of being alone for a moment to take a look in the mirror, only to come to a halt when he recognized a familiar pair of eyes looking at him.

”Oikawa-san.”

Oikawa turned around, hoping that he remembered wrong, hoping that he wouldn’t truly see –

Terushima, who was walking closer.

“How are you?”

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa frowned, looking around the store. Maybe to see if Akiko was close by, already foreseeing the awkwardness that would arise if he’d have to introduce the two. Maybe looking for more familiar faces, others that he really didn’t want to see.

“My sister is getting married. Apparently I have to wear a suit there.” Terushima explained in a dull voice, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, as if the idea of attending his sister’s wedding bored him immeasurably.

“Right,” Oikawa nodded, a little suspicious of Terushima’s tone, of his sudden appearance.

“What about you?” Terushima gave him a quick once over, subtly curious and suggestiveness at the zero. “Don’t get that red one.”

Oikawa had already decided that he definitely wouldn’t let Akiko buy the red suit that he was currently wearing. It was the wrong shade of red and clashed violently against his skin tone.

“What does it look like I’m here for?” Oikawa asked, shrugging the jacket off and hanging it on the hanger before he set it to the side with care.

Terushima didn’t answer, and Oikawa didn’t miss the way he too looked around with a rather anxious expression, an expression he quickly hid when he met Oikawa’s eyes again.

“I bumped into Suga the other day,” Terushima took a deliberate step forward, closer to Oikawa, as he spoke.

“I know, he told me,” Oikawa replied in a steely voice, measuring the distance between them with his eyes, his mouth in a calculating purse.

_What he wouldn’t give just to get away from the conversation?_

“He told me you two are a thing now.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to stay silent. He honestly and with all his heart didn’t want to encourage a conversation between them. He willed Terushima to go away before Akiko came back. Even less than holding a conversation with Terushima he wanted to introduce the two to each other.

He knew that Akiko would recognize Terushima from that one photo that Suga had exhibited in his gallery. But Terushima probably had no idea who Akiko was – they had never met before.

“I didn’t mean to ask him to coffee, but I was with Kenji when we ran into him, and Kenji has wanted to meet with Suga for forever,” Terushima continued, as if he couldn’t notice how little interest Oikawa had in talking to him, or maybe he just decided to ignore it. But why would he ignore it?

Despite himself, Oikawa couldn’t help but ask. “Kenji?”

“My fiancé.”

Oikawa nodded in a silent “a-ha”. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and eyed Terushima. He couldn’t think of a reason for why Terushima was still standing there, talking to him. He figured there must’ve been something Terushima wanted, and he was mistrustful of what that ‘something’ was.

Terushima wasn’t deterred by his standoffish attitude and behavior, and kept on talking. Any stranger walking past them or overhearing them would’ve thought that Terushima was talking to himself in a one-sided conversation.

“I don’t think he thoroughly trusts me to hang with Suga, so it was just to ease him.” Terushima finished with a shrug, and looked around again.

Oikawa wondered on that – why wouldn’t Terushima’s fiancé trust him to hang alone with Suga. Was it true then? Was Terushima still in love with Suga like Daichi and Iwaizumi had told him?

“He doesn’t love you anymore,” Oikawa stated in a dark tone.

“I’m aware,” Terushima admitted, his tone of voice still unchanged from the casualness of which he’d already talked with, but the graveness of his statement in the look of his eyes. It wasn’t defeat, just... Acceptance.

“Then, why do you keep seeking Suga out for coffee?” Oikawa didn’t mean to sound frustrated, but there was nothing he could do once it slipped into his tone.

“Suga was the one who came to me first to catch up.” Terushima pointed out, to Oikawa’s dismay. “Sure, I had told him that I’d want to be friends with him. But he was the one who came to me first. He invited me to his exhibit. And then he came to see me after that. You two had had a fight.”

Oikawa remembered the fight, and he willed away the thought of Suga going to see Terushima right after they had had a fight caused by the man. This... This part was news to him, bad news, very bad news, and it made his skin crawl as he realized Suga had hid it from him on purpose.

He wasn’t sure if Terushima was aware that he didn’t know that the two had met right after their fight, but his voice held a hint of sympathy. “He was really worried about it, your fight. Said you weren’t happy to see me at the gallery.”

“I wasn’t.” Oikawa stated, not one to hide his dislike for the man. “And I’m not happy that you two keep hanging either, but if it’s what Suga wants, then there’s nothing I can do about it.” He said it with a shrug and the thought of Suga’s words in his mind; that Suga wouldn’t hang with Terushima anymore. And he once again wondered, what had brought that on.

Could Suga have learned about Terushima’s feelings as well?

“Tooru,” Akiko returned with another suit jacket, unwittingly disrupting them. “You have to try this,” she beamed at him, holding up the bright yellow jacket with black and white zig-zaggy stripes.

Oikawa let out a surprised chuckle, or maybe a snort, as he took the first look at it, and held his hand out for it. “Alright.”

“Hello,” she said to Terushima with a pleasant smile.

Oikawa quickly glanced at her and saw the recognition in her eyes.

“Akiko-san, this is Terushima Yuuji.” Oikawa introduced anyway, and levelled Terushima with a look. “This is Suga-chan’s mother, Sugawara Akiko.”

“Oh,” Terushima breathed, and apparently needed a moment to wrap his mind around the fact that he was meeting Suga’s mother, his eyes moving between Oikawa and Akiko as if he was trying to figure something out. “Hello.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Akiko smiled politely to him. “Are you a friend of my son’s?” she inquired kindly, while Oikawa stroked the lapels of the jacket, and took a look in the mirror, noticing how absolutely crazy the pattern was. He was sure he would get a headache if he looked at the brightness of it too long.

“Sort of,” Terushima said surely when he’d recollected himself.

Oikawa didn’t miss the quick look Terushima gave to him.

“That’s nice,” Akiko said, her smile a little too stiff to be genuine.

Oikawa wondered what she thought about Terushima, of that he was friends with her son.

“Sugawara-san, I’ve found another one!” the store employee called from somewhere between the racks, and she took off.

“Take that off and try this one instead.” Akiko held another jacket for Oikawa to try on, the pastel lavender interesting to Oikawa, but the pink heart shaped embroidery a little too much. He swapped it on anyway when Akiko took off to where her name was called from.

“Why doesn’t your fiancé trust you to hang with Suga?” Oikawa looked at Terushima via the mirror, once again noting how the man gave him an expressionless once over.

“You’d have to ask him,” Terushima replied in a way that suggested he knew, but wasn’t willing to part that information to Oikawa.

“Suga doesn’t love you anymore,” Oikawa stated again, as he took the jacket off and set it aside, next to the ten or so he had already laid aside, as he waited for Akiko to return with an even crazier pattern or obnoxiously migraine inducing bright color.

“You’ve already said that.”

“But do you still love him?” Oikawa cast a shift glance from his periphery towards the man.

Akiko returned then, but Oikawa was sure that Terushima wouldn’t have answered anyway.

She held another jacket for Oikawa, who shrug it on, and then admired the fit and look in the mirror, while she turned to Terushima.

“Are you here for a suit as well?” she asked, again with the stiff polite smile.

“My sister is getting married and she demanded that I wear a suit,” Terushima answered pleasantly.

“Are you taking your fiancé with you?” Oikawa asked, eyeing Terushima through the mirror in between his evaluative looks of himself in the night sky blue jacket with a silvery shining thread mixed in, giving it a glimmer, like a scatter of few stars on a night sky.

“No,” Terushima answered. “My family doesn’t know about him.”

Oikawa and Akiko kept looking at him, waiting for him to continue, as they could sense he was about to.

“I’m not out to them.”

“That’s understandable,” Akiko responded, her expression a little bit sympathetic, less stiff and disapproving.

Oikawa didn’t think that Terushima deserved sympathy, but he could understand where it stemmed from.

“Sugawara-san, would he be willing to wear pink? I look good in it. I rock the color quite often actually. Would you like to come take a look of it?”

Akiko rolled her eyes with a light laugh of exasperation that she was being toted on such a way, and left Oikawa and Terushima alone again.

Oikawa chuckled to himself. He had to admit that the employee’s blatant and very poor flirting with the very uninterested Akiko was quite amusing to witness.  

“Does she know who I am?” Terushima asked looking after her.

“Yes.”

Oikawa didn’t see any point in lying to Terushima. So she knew that Terushima was Suga’s ex, big deal.

“She saw the photo,” Oikawa explained when he noted Terushima’s slightly puzzled look, the furrow in his brow. “Suga never explicitly told her who the photo was off, but she connected the dots.”

“Suga never wanted us to meet,” Terushima spoke quietly, moving to the chair set next to the mirror.

Oikawa cursed in his mind that Terushima apparently wanted to prolong their awkward, and on Oikawa’s part a bit passive-aggressive, conversation. He cursed Terushima as he didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave.

“Did Suga say so?” he asked anyway. There was a part in him that recognized this as an unique opportunity, and another part in him wanted to take full advantage of that, effectively silencing every other part in him that whispered of how messed up the situation was.

“Not in those words,” Terushima revealed slowly, like he was thinking back to it. “But it was in the context of everything else he did say.”

“Suga only does that when his conscious mind isn’t fully aware of something that his subconscious mind is.”

Terushima smirked. “How long did it take for you to figure that out?”

Oikawa detected the challenge in Terushima’s voice, and didn’t like at all. He took the jacket off, took the usual care as he put it aside, and turned to look at Terushima with his arms crossed.

“Why are you still sitting here? Don’t you have to find a suit as well?”

“I’ll take the most boring black suit they have and call it a day,” Terushima answered, as if he was bored again, but the smirk still in place.

“What is it that you want then? If you want my okay for you to hang out with Suga, I can assure you you’re not going to get it from me.”

“I’m not lingering for that,” Terushima replied, his smirk gone and his tone serious. He leaned forward and rested his elbows forward on the armrests. “Has he told you about Konoha?”

Oikawa frowned of the subject matter that came out of the left field. “I know they used to fuck,” he answered, keeping his voice steady so his confusion wasn’t audible, but looked away just in case Terushima would be able to see it on his face.

“I know more than just that,” Terushima said from behind him. “I know why they stopped.”

Oikawa turned to look at Terushima, met his eyes in a staring contest. He wanted to ask. He wanted to ask more than anything, because he needed to know why Suga was so closed off about Konoha. But he knew, that if he asked, he’d give Terushima power that he definitely didn’t want to give to him.

“Suga-chan told you?” he whispered.

“Yes,” Terushima answered in a level voice, blinking slowly as he steadily kept up with Oikawa’s eye connection.

Another silence settled between them, and it stretched and stretched for what felt like hours to Oikawa.

“Fine,” he gave in with a frustrated sigh and shifted his feet, once again defensively folding his arms in front of his chest. “Why’d they stop?”

“Suga hasn’t told you?” Terushima asked, but he didn’t sound mocking or mean about it at all, which baffled Oikawa. If their roles were reversed, he gloat the fact that he knew in the pettiest way possible in Terushima’s face.

But there wasn’t a trace of that in Terushima.

“Would I have asked if I knew?” Oikawa shot back, a little irritated by the fact that Terushima was so... So... So calm and upfront. He was also, mostly, irritated because Terushima apparently knew what the deal about Konoha was when he knew _nothing._

Terushima turned his head and leaned a little to take a look at the store, maybe to see if anyone was eavesdropping, or to check if Akiko was about to come back. Oikawa mimicked him and took a look as well. This probably wasn’t a conversation for Akiko hear, not if she knew they were talking about her son.

Once Terushima seemingly was satisfied that he could talk without the fear of someone overhearing them, he stood up and stepped closer to Oikawa.

“Suga and Konoha used to fuck.”

“I know that,” Oikawa interrupted, reminding Terushima that he already knew _this,_ that he wanted to learn what he didn’t know yet.

Terushima gave him a look that suggested for Oikawa to have patience.

“It went on for about a year –“

Oikawa wanted to tell Terushima that he already knew this as well, but kept this mouth shut. He didn’t want accidentally to cause for Terushima not to continue, and leave him hanging without any knowledge.

“ – and it was just sex. Neither wanted more, and Suga claimed that he was more than happy in their arrangement, that he’d preferred for them to just strictly bang. Exclusively, though.”

Oikawa bounced his head a little in lieu of a series of small nods, taking the information in, fiddling with the sleeve of the last jacket he’d tried on, feeling the texture under his fingertips, how the slightly raised pattern felt like braille.

“About a year into the fucking, Suga found out that Konoha was engaged.”

Oikawa stopped admiring the jacket’s pattern.

“For the last six months of their ‘arrangement’, Suga had been the other man.”

Oikawa moved his gaze eerily slowly to look at Terushima.

“Without his knowledge.”

_Oh, fuck_

 “Suga said that he hadn’t seen Konoha since he found out about her.”

Oikawa was appalled. “Konoha cheated on his girlfriend with Suga-chan? And Suga had no idea?”

“None,” Terushima shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together. “He was still upset and angry about it when we started to date.” He rubbed his wrist nervously, fiddled with the bracelet there as he looked down to the floor as if he was lost in it. “Suga was drunk when he told me, so I’m not sure if he’s aware that he’s told me. I’ve understood that he doesn’t like to talk about Konoha at all, which is understandable.” 

“Is Konoha still with her? Do you know?”

“The last I heard, when Suga told me about it all, he was married to her.”

Oikawa turned back to the mirror with a frown and met his own eyes. “How did Suga-chan find out? Did Konoha tell him?”

“No.”

Oikawa glanced at Terushima when he didn’t continue.

“Akaashi-san told him.”

Oikawa closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Akaashi knew that Konoha was engaged while he was fucking Suga?”

“Apparently so did Bokuto and Kuroo,” Terushima nodded along. “And the kicker,” he chuckled darkly, shaking his head a little. “They thought that Suga knew that he had a girlfriend, that he was engaged. Which was a contributing factor to why they didn’t approve of Suga and Konoha fucking.”

Oikawa wasn’t sure if he was glad to know now. He’d have to pretend that he didn’t know when he was around Suga. He hadn’t thought that whatever had happened between Suga and Konoha would’ve been so heavy and serious.

“Why did you tell me this?” Oikawa asked cautiously, back to scrutinizing Terushima through the veil of mistrust.

“Because Suga never would have.”

It was a statement that Oikawa knew rang true. But he didn’t feel the need to thank Terushima for telling him.

“I should go,” Terushima exhaled wearily.  

Oikawa nodded, and idly followed with his eyes Terushima walk away, not really giving him full attention, too preoccupied with the new piece of information. Until –

Terushima stopped and turned in place to look at Oikawa. “I know Suga doesn’t love me anymore,” he said steadily, serious as death. “But I still love him.”

Oikawa didn’t look at Terushima, not even when the moment stretched.

“I’m not going to do anything about it. If I’ve learned anything useful about the Konoha story, it’s that once Suga’s done, he’s done. It’d be a waste of time for me to go after him anymore, and a lot of people would get hurt.”

Oikawa glanced at Terushima when he grew quiet again.

“You don’t need to worry about me, that I’d do anything when Suga and I spend time together,” Terushima said slowly, making every word count. “Do you realize how upset Suga would be if he found out I still love him?”

Oikawa didn’t reply as he noticed Akiko approach with another set of suit jackets for him to try on.

“You make Suga happy, and that’s what’s important,” were Terushima’s parting words, and a nod to Akiko as their paths passed by each other.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Hey,” Suga smiled at them the instant they stepped inside the apartment. “How was shopping?”

“Are you cooking?” Akiko asked, and sounded almost aghast. “I told you I would do that.”

“And I decided to forget that you told me that,” Suga said with a mischievous smile, while Akiko shook her head and rolled her eyes, as if she couldn’t believe that this was her son.

“I need a shower, Tokyo is so dusty,” she said with her nose slightly scrunched, and promptly disappeared into the hallway.

“How was shopping?” Suga turned to Oikawa, to ask again.

Oikawa placed his hands on Suga’s cheeks, cupping his jaw, to bring him to a kiss, hard and full of love.

“What was that for?” Suga asked with big eyes, a little breathless, but mostly probably thanks to the surprise of the intensity of the kiss. It made sense that he would ask after such a kiss. It wasn’t like one of their usual kisses of “hello” and “welcome back” and “I missed you”.

Oikawa looped his arms loosely around Suga. “We ran into Terushima.”

Suga sighed and dropped his head against Oikawa’s chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry that these last days have been so stressful for you when you’re supposed to –“

“It’s fine,” Oikawa interrupted Suga, brought his head up with his hand under his chin, and gave him a gentle kiss on his lips.

Suga didn’t look convinced, and Oikawa kissed him again. He had been pushing a lot to the back of his mind to be dealt with and processed later, and he knew he’d have to expect that fallout come, after the weekend at the latest. But he couldn’t think about that now.

Now he had Suga in his arms and he had something impertinent to tell him.

“Did you talk with Terushima?” Suga asked, his eyes searching in Oikawa’s, flitting between them.

Oikawa was glad that he asked, for he wasn’t sure how to bring up his conversation with Terushima naturally. “Yeah, a little,” he answered.

Suga kept looking up at him, his hands resting on Oikawa’s shoulders, waiting for him to continue.

“He told me about Konoha.”

There was a flash of a frown between Suga’s brows, but the furrow was quickly smoothed out. “What about Konoha?” he inquired genuinely.

“What happened between you two.”

Suga frowned again, and looked a little past Oikawa. “How does he know what happened?”

Oikawa could see how the thoughts raced in Suga’s mind, how he probably was going through a mental list of the possible people who had told Terushima.

“He said you told him when you were drunk.”

Suga closed his eyes and sighed again, tilting a just a smidgen to the side before he turned in Oikawa’s arms back to face the counter. Oikawa heard the whispered, self-conscious “of course”, but didn’t comment on it.

Instead he stepped closer to Suga, right against his back, tightened his arms a little around Suga’s middle, hugging him closer to share his love and caring, most of all warmth.

“I’m sorry for what happened with him,” he whispered to the back of Suga’s head, and placed a kiss there.

Suga inhaled deep and slow as he closed his eyes. “Can we not talk about it?” he asked in a slightly wavering voice, as if he was holding back something tremulous.

“Sure,” Oikawa agreed without a second thought. “Can I just ask something first? Just one question?”

Suga opened his eyes, and Oikawa waited patiently for Suga’s answer.

“Okay.”

“Were you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Konoha?” Oikawa asked, taking care not to sound demanding. He already had an inkling of Suga’s answer, but he needed it confirmed.

“I don’t like to think about what happened, so I don’t think so,” Suga answered, sounding honest, looking directly at Oikawa with grave eyes.

Oikawa believed him, and accepted his answer. He placed his hands gently on Suga’s jaw and kissed him softly, saying “I understand” and “It’s okay” with it. Suga wrapped his hands around Oikawa’s wrists, his hold light and heartbreaking.

“I’ll go hang my suit,” Oikawa said when he pulled back a little. “And then I’ll come and help you.”

“Aren’t you going to prepare for tomorrow?” Suga looked baffled, letting go of Oikawa.

“Not right now,” Oikawa replied with a smile, and picked up and threw the garment back over his shoulder, dangling it from his finger behind his back. “Wait till you see me in my suit tomorrow,” he added with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows that made Suga chuckle fondly.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

During dinner that evening, this time joined by Asahi and Nishinoya as well, their apartment was filled with more laughter.

Nishinoya was doting on Akiko, as one would expect him to, and it was endearing to watch. But even more lovely, and admittedly hilarious, was how Akiko needled the new couple of their relationship, asking for details in the most obvious aspects and the most peculiar and seemingly insignificant little things. She managed to thoroughly bring out a very flustered and furiously blushing Asahi, and always a trooper in whatever he had to face –Noya, who was eagerly providing answers.

But Oikawa’s focus wasn’t really on them, as he kept thinking about the next day, stressing about it in a way that he’d forgotten about with everything else that had been going on, and as he kept making sure that Suga wore a smile throughout the dinner by putting more effort than usual into acting cute, tending to every threat of Suga falling into his lonely thoughts on whatever it was that was going on inside his head.

 

...

 

After the dinner, and after everyone had slowly and reluctantly made their ways back home again, Oikawa had retired on the floor in the living room, little bit exhausted from the excess work he’d put into amusing and caring of Suga. He was still feeling the stress and anxiousness of the next day, but mixed with contentment as he sat on a large pillow in front of a couch, his stomach was filled with good food, feeling warm from the lovely atmosphere that still lingered in their apartment, and he was happy and growing more and more relaxed with Akiko’s fingers expertly braiding his hair.

“Tell me if I’m using too much force, pulling you hair,” she said softly from behind him, from the couch she was sitting on.

Oikawa hummed in affirmation, again since it was probably her fourth time saying so, and closed his eyes to immerse himself in the gentle way she slipped her fingers through his hair to pull a strand and then twist it within the braid.

It wasn’t exactly quiet in the living room with the tv on and with some drama Akiko had put on playing in the background. Oikawa wasn’t following what was going on in the show, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t be disappointed and a little frustrated if the main couple didn’t finally kiss for the first time by the end credits of the episode.

They sounded young, cute, innocent, new to love, and ready to second-think everything and anything the other said or did.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Akiko asked, her voice still soft and quiet.  

“Not when I don’t think about it.”

Akiko’s laugh was light and barely audible. “I’m sorry for asking about it then.”

“It’s fine,” Oikawa made a small shrug. “What you’re doing is helping me relax.”

“I’m glad,” she replied in a soft tone.

The sound of a shutter turned both of their heads, Oikawa’s carefully so he didn’t mess up Akiko’s work, towards the hallway where Suga was standing with a camera and a happy smile.

“Capturing memories again?” Akiko asked, still speaking in her honey voice.

“Till the day I die,” Suga answered simply.

“Come here,” Oikawa beckoned him closer, and Suga followed the call and sat on the couch.

“Doesn’t the dutch braid suit Tooru?” Akiko sounded proud as she ran her hand over the finished braid.

“He’s always handsome,” Suga answered.

“Thank you,” Oikawa said, subtly grateful and immensely pleased by the compliment. It wasn’t exactly anything new – compliments from Suga to him were practically an everyday occurrence – but he was still flattered.

He turned his head slowly to see Suga, Akiko’s finger already combing the braid out with long smooth strokes through his hair impeding him a little, and flashed a soft smile to his boyfriend.

“Have you had sex yet?” Akiko disrupted their soft shared moment.

“Akiko-san!” Oikawa was scandalized that she would ask it like that, so cavalier and nonchalant. He didn’t dare to look behind him, he didn’t want to know what kind of expression she was wearing when she asked. Her tone suggested nothing out of casual, but he could’ve just as well sworn that she might’ve been grinning too.

“Yes.”

However, Suga wasn’t even a little bit fazed by her question, had clearly been waiting for her to ask at some point, and now that she had, he answered straight away and honestly, like he would any every day question. Oikawa wasn’t sure if he was grateful for it. Usually he had nothing against talking about sex, especially with Suga since it often led to them _having_ sex. But this was Suga’s mother asking, this was Akiko-san asking.

“And you didn’t tell me you were together,” Akiko tutted, her disappointment clear in her voice but only registering somewhere far off in Oikawa’s mind, preoccupied still with the shock of her question as it was.

“You know now, mom.”

“But I was the last to know. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“You already forgave us for that.” Suga pointed out in an apologetic voice.

Oikawa felt how Akiko’s fingers were running smoothly through his hair now, his braid unraveled, the gentle strokes calming and soothing him from his earlier shock to the point where he wasn’t even a little bit freaked out anymore.

“I’m still allowed to be salty about it.”

“Of course, if that’s what you want.” Suga agreed to it straight away, and Oikawa realized that he might’ve been calmed from Akiko’s blunt question by Suga’s calm reaction to it while Akiko started the braiding all over again.

“Why are you keeping your hands busy?” Suga asked then, slight concern detectable in his voice. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Of course not. I know that Tooru is going to be wonderful and come home with the diploma in his hand.”

“It’s okay to be nervous, Akiko-san.” Oikawa soothed in turn, smiling a little as he found the idea of Akiko being nervous for him heartwarming. “And I don’t mind what she’s doing.”

Suga hummed, the sentiment of it somewhere between understanding and disapproval. “How many braids has she already made and unmade?”

 _Six,_ Oikawa thought. “I haven’t counted,” he said, though. “I like it. It relaxes me.”

“You worry for nothing, darling.”

Oikawa heard Akiko’s gentle smile in her voice, and he felt one of her hands leave his hair, probably to maternally pat Suga’s shoulder or something, and before long return to the braiding.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Oikawa heard Suga say, and from his periphery he saw Suga’s legs move him towards the hallway, probably to take his camera back where it belonged. He did see the device dangle in Suga’s hand.

It left Oikawa alone with Akiko, and after her last question, he wasn’t sure how to be. He tried to brush her question away from his mind, he didn’t need to think about it. And he really didn’t want to wonder _why_ she had asked in first place. 

“Did I make you feel uncomfortable when I asked about you two having sex?” Akiko asked softly.

“It’s fine.” Oikawa brushed the matter aside.

“You can tell me if talking about sex with my son makes you uncomfortable. I won’t be offended.”

Oikawa thought about it for a moment. It was after all, his ‘mother-in-law’ asking about their sex life, and he wasn’t comfortable talking about it with her.

“A little,” he admitted, looking down to the floor, to his fiddling toes. His slightly nervous hands scratched at his right ankle and then brushed non-existent lint from his things.

“I won’t bring it up again then,” Akiko spoke with understanding, and started to unravel the seventh attempt at a braid.

“Thank you,” Oikawa whispered, his feelings mixed with relief and disappointment.

Oikawa wondered how often Suga conversed about sex with his mother, or if it was just the casual inquiry of ‘have you had sex with’ with whatever boyfriend Suga had introduced to her. It was a slippery slope, to wonder about it in the silence that lingered softly in the living room in the wake of Suga’s absence and it was too easy for Oikawa to slip into a meditative state in his contentment that he felt with Akiko’s fingers continuously playing with his hair.

And his thoughts led him to think about a various things, the most pressing falling out of his mouth with as much as thought as breathing required.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she answered in a chirp.

“How did Suga-chan come out to you?”

Akiko was silent for a moment after the question, and it unnerved Oikawa since he couldn’t see her face. He almost regretted letting the question slip out, but found the hint of interest within himself that made him glad that he had asked. If only she would answer.

He tried to focus on the way Akiko’s fingers ran through his hair, combing it open again and again. It was relaxing, there was no denying it, but it didn’t have the desired effect on Oikawa at the moment as he anxiously waited for her to say something, anything to fill the silence that was no longer soft but, just, silence.

“I think I accidentally called him out on it first,” she finally spoke when she had divided his hair into two. “He was thirteen or fourteen, somewhere in that time frame, and I asked him if he was gay.”

“You just asked him?”

“Well, I thought he might be and I asked in case he didn’t know how to tell it to me and his father,” she replied softly, fondness filling her voice, as she left one part of his hair to the side while she started to French braid the other part. “He denied it then, looked at me like I had lost my mind, told me he’s going to volleyball practice and that was it.”

Oikawa smiled at the mention of volleyball, he had thought that Suga had played at some point in his school career, even though he never mentioned it.

“But I kept wondering on it, if he was gay, and I tried to create as warm and accepting environment for him as possible. Maybe he just denied it then because he didn’t know himself yet.”

Oikawa hummed, thinking the same. Maybe Suga hadn’t known yet.

“Officially he came out to me a couple of months after his father’s death.” Akiko spoke quietly, almost whispering, as if she held the moment dear to her heart.

“He was fifteen, right?”

“He was,” Akiko confirmed and fell silent again, focusing more on finishing the one braid, or maybe thinking. Oikawa leaned on both of the reasons when she continued.

“He sat me down after he made me dinner.” She stopped to laugh lightly. “I just came home from work, and I walked into our house that smelled incredible, and sat down to a ready table. I kept wondering on why the special occasion but I didn’t ask. I knew Koushi, he would tell me when he was ready. And he did.” She sighed fondly, starting on the other part of his hair. “He told me that he’d told his father earlier the day that he died, and he felt it wasn’t fair to me that I didn’t know.” A waver slipped into her voice, and Oikawa could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “He was also worried that telling his dad was what finally killed him, but I told it was coincidence that his body couldn’t fight the cancer anymore the same day. I could tell he had been struggling, thinking that he had somehow caused his father to die, but it just wasn’t true. He wouldn’t have lived for long anyway, he was already at the end of the time that was projected for him to live.”

Oikawa swiftly swept his fingers over his eyes to dap away the moisture from there.

“Can you hand me tissue, darling?” Akiko asked quietly, the tremble of her lips betraying her voice.

 Oikawa immediately reached for the packet they kept on the coffee table and handed it to her over his shoulder, sneaking one tissue out for himself in the process.

“I apologize for asking,” he said. “I didn’t think it would’ve been so emotional to you.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she laughed lightly, the waver still in her voice but Oikawa could hear the smile as well as she patted his shoulder consolingly. “You couldn’t have known. Anyway,” she paused to sniff and returned to the braid she had abandoned to presumably dry her eyes. “How did you come out to your parents?”

Oikawa fiddled with his socks with his fingers, trying to suppress his smirk. “I made out with Iwa-chan in front of them.”

Akiko let out a surprised tingle of laughter, lifting some of the saddening weight off of Oikawa’s heavy heart. But the apprehension from the morning returned as the thought of his parents came to him, of his mother’s call to Suga.

“That was subtle,” Akiko commented, delighted and a little reprimanding, pulling Oikawa from his dark thoughts with her natural joie de vivre.

“I thought they wouldn’t believe me if I just told them.”

“You’re quite dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Only when the occasion calls for it.”

Akiko laughed at that, and Oikawa was able to push through the apprehension, and leave it behind altogether as he basked in her laughter, the carefree sound of it.

“Anyway, how did you know Suga was gay? I mean, what made you ask him?”

“It was actually his father who pointed it out to me. I still remember it like it was yesterday, how he was reading the paper and Koushi had just left for school, and he just said from behind the paper “I think our son is gay”.” Akiko laughed again as she reminisced. “I was shocked first, not because of what he said, well maybe a little, but more of how nonchalantly he spoke, as if he’d read a headline of an article in the paper.” She finished the second braid and tied it at the end.

“I don’t know what made him say it then. Koushi was never loud with his gayness. There was no specific way he acted or behaved. Even to this day, you wouldn’t be able to really tell unless you knew him really well.”

Oikawa agreed with her. He hadn’t known about Suga’s sexuality until he was explicitly told.

“Why are your eyes red?” Suga alerted them to his presence by asking softly and a little cautiously as he returned, sans his camera, but stopped short at the entrance of the hallway. “Why are you crying?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Akiko answered, pulling the hair ties off. “Tooru was just curious of how you came out to me.”

“I didn’t know it was such a sad moment for you,” Suga said timidly.

“No, no,” Akiko hurried to assure him. “I told Tooru how you told your father first and –“ she took a deep breath and let it out softly. “That made us sad, that’s all.”

Suga looked uncertain, wavering, but apparently decided to believe her and came to the couch to join them, and poked Oikawa on his side with his toes.

“What?” Oikawa turned his head to see Suga.

“Nothing,” Suga smiled back, eyes bright and tone innocent.

“You just toed me for fun?”

“Yes.”

Oikawa chuckled, turning his head again to allow Akiko to continue with the unraveling, and in no doubt, rebraiding. “Alright, you do you.”

Suga’s response was another softly insistent poke on his side.

Oikawa quickly grabbed the foot, his hand wrapping around Suga’s ankle. “If you don’t stop I’m going to start tickling you in revenge.”

“Alright, you do you,” Suga replied, and Oikawa could hear the faint tone of a smirk in his voice, right before Suga used his other foot to poke Oikawa on the side again.

In retaliation Oikawa pulled on Suga’s leg, causing him to fall of the couch, landing softly on his butt, laughing immediately – apparently falling of a couch was funny for Suga, Oikawa thought with delight – and to the floor next to him, for easy and close access for some tickling. Oikawa reached to Suga’s sides, letting his fingers dance on Suga’s slightly exposed skin as his shirt had ridden up in the fall, Suga’s loud squeals of laughter filling the room.

Oikawa didn’t let up, not until Akiko made a small coughing sound, or might’ve been loud too but buried under Suga’s laughter, reminding him that she was _right there watching them._ Not that Oikawa minded – he knew Akiko was happy for them and was probably enjoying seeing them happy with each other, playing around.

However, Oikawa stilled his fingers, and left his hands gently on Suga’s sides, moving up and down along with the deep breaths Suga took to regain some semblance of his normal breathing. The situation calmed, Oikawa moved to sit up on his knees, between Suga’s legs but who cared about that, his hands trailing on Suga’s body from his sides to his thighs.

“Did something happen earlier?” Akiko asked, and when Oikawa took a look at her, he saw her head tilted to the side as she curiously scrutinized them.

“What do you mean?” Suga read Oikawa’s mind to ask.

“Yesterday you seemed a little tense. And today you’re much more comfortable with each other.”

Oikawa met Suga’s eyes, trying so to inaudibly relay for Suga to answer.

“We had a little fight yesterday,” Suga revealed, and his hand found Oikawa’s resting on his thigh. “But we’re okay now,” he finished, intertwining their fingers, subconsciously maybe since he kept looking at his mother to whole time.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said kindly. “I was wondering if it was because of me and the fact that I didn’t know that you were dating.”

Oikawa looked at her then, offering a small apologetic smile that they’d hidden their relationship from her.

“I’ll give you two a second,” she said, already walking round the coffee table and making her way towards the kitchen, apparently not needing the apologies anymore since she didn’t wait around to hear them.

Oikawa didn’t wait long after she disappeared from his periphery before he shifted on his hands and knees and crawled to hover over Suga.

“Your hair came loose,” Suga whispered, his free hand running through Oikawa’s hair and down with a couple of strands between his fingers.

“It’s okay,” Oikawa whispered back, leaned down closer to Suga and gave him a kiss on his lips, and pulled back a bit with a thought. “Is it okay for me to kiss you in front of your mother?”

“Yes,” Suga laughed lightly, the sound of it airy, as he let go of Oikawa’s hand and wrapped both of his arms around Oikawa’s shoulder, hands gently resting behind his neck. “Unless she’s watching,” he added with seriously knitted eyebrows.

Oikawa glanced up and towards the kitchen, where, sure enough, Akiko was watching them with a fond smile. “She’s staring,” he informed Suga in a whisper.

Suga tilted his head back so he could see to the kitchen as well, although upside down. “Mom, stop staring,” he said with an exasperated laugh, as if he couldn’t believe that she would watch them. 

“Am I not allowed to see my babies happy?”

“Not if you’re going to be creepy about it.”

Oikawa chuckled and dropped his head down to the crook between Suga’s neck and shoulder, muffling his amusement to Suga’s skin.

“Fine, I won’t look.”

Oikawa couldn’t see what Akiko was doing in the kitchen, but Suga’s huff told him that he wasn’t all that pleased whatever it was.

“She’s impossible,” Suga whispered, his lips right next to Oikawa’s ear, sending shivers to travel through Oikawa’s body to all of his extremities. He lifted his head up, gave a quick kiss on Suga’s lips, and moved to sit on his knees between Suga’s legs again. He took Suga’s hands from his neck in the process and pulled Suga to sit up.

“I think we should watch Totoro tonight,” Akiko announced, coming back from the kitchen, armed with a cup of warm tea, the steam rising from the cup and wafting the citrusy smell as she rounded the coffee table again to sit back where she had been earlier.

Suga frowned, and Oikawa was just as perplexed by the idea. “Why?”

“Because it’s Koushi’s favorite.”

“I didn’t know that,” Oikawa said fondly, looking at Suga and tugging on the hem of his shirt.

Suga smiled back at him.

“Remember when we watched it together for the first time?” Akiko asked, tugging her legs on the couch so they were curled under her.

“Yeah,” Suga nodded.

Oikawa couldn’t remember the first time he saw it, he was probably two or three years old then, but he could remember the earliest time that he’d seen it when was old enough then to still remember the occasion now. “How old were you?” he asked from Suga.

“Fifteen, I think,” Suga answered thoughtfully.

“Fifteen?” Oikawa asked a little too loudly, surprised and incredulous. “It came out before we were born,” he explained then in his normal volume.

“She didn’t let me watch it before that.” Suga gestured with his chin towards his mother, and Oikawa looked at her with his mouth agape. The injustice of Suga going through his childhood without Totoro!

“It’s a scary movie,” Akiko defended with wide eyes, as if she was the one still having nightmares about it.

“How?”

“I have two words for you,” she replied, holding up two fingers. “Neko Bus.”

“The cat bus?” Oikawa questioned, frowning a little, his eyes narrowing as he tried to see it in his mind. His expression cleared when he noticed the faint grin on Akiko’s face, and understood that she wasn’t completely serious.

“Are you sure you want to watch it, mom?” Suga checked, a small smile of amusement curling his lips. “You might get nightmares,” he teased.

Akiko rolled his eyes, very Suga-like, and sipped her tea.

Oikawa tugged on Suga’s shirt again. “How come we haven’t watched Totoro yet if it’s your favorite?”

“I like to save it for special occasions,” Suga answered easily.

“Like what?”

Suga hummed, seemingly in thought, but the smile hiding from his lips in his eyes told Oikawa that it was just for show.

“I don’t know,” Suga shrugged. “For a wedding night?” 

“Well, we definitely can’t watch it tonight then!” Oikawa faked outcry.

And they didn’t watch Totoro.

They did however continue watching, and not watching, the show Akiko had put on earlier. The show did go ignored for large part as she amused Oikawa with stories of Suga growing up, for the large part to Suga’s boredom.

_“Why are you so removed?” Akiko asked, nudging her son._

_“Because I’ve lived it all already,” Suga replied with a yawn that he covered with the back of his hand, his nose scrunching a little at the force of it. “You’re not telling anything new to me, or interesting either.”_

_“I find it interesting,” Oikawa commented, running his hand down Suga’s arm._

_“That’s good,” Suga replied genuinely. “She’s telling you about my embarrassing teenage years to amuse you. If you weren’t interested, it would all be for nothing.”_

_Oikawa grinned softly, and leaned closer to Suga, an unnecessary move since they were already sitting pressed against each other, to give him a chaste kiss. A thank you, really, for letting his mother tell him about him growing up._

“Your childhood sounds magical,” he commented with a dreamy smile, subconsciously comparing Akiko’s stories to his own childhood memories.

Suga was silent for a moment, his mouth in a thoughtful smile, his fingers playing and intertwining with Oikawa’s. “Do you remember reading the Harry Potter books and thinking how magical it all was?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa answered, confused a little.

“Do you think, if Harry Potter had really lived and there was an alternate universe where all that Rowling wrote really happened, he’d find it magical in the most positive sense that word could express?”

“Are you saying you don’t think your childhood was magical?”

“I’m saying that I don’t think of it as magical in the most positive meaning of the word.”

Oikawa chuckled fondly and leaned to Suga’s side and discreetly left a soft kiss on Suga’s shoulder before he rest his head there.

“Are you just saying that because I wouldn’t let you dress up as a vampire for the school’s costume contest when you were ten years old?” Akiko asked.

“Maybe,” Suga answered elusively.

“Vampires are awful beings, described with mixed attributes and capabilities since not one author that came after Bam Stroker could agree on what they could and couldn’t do and what others could and couldn’t do to them. And the whole myth of them has been destroyed by every medium of popular culture,” Akiko listed with a smile audible in her tone.

“You’re welcome,” she added with heavy meaning.

Oikawa felt Suga chuckle next to him.

“Okay, fine mom,” Suga said with a smile as well. “Thank you for saving me from thinking back on horror that I once dressed as a vampire.”

“You’re welcome,” Akiko replied in a sweeter voice, apparently delighted by Suga’s gratitude, even if it came fifteen years too late.

Oikawa snickered lightly at the exchange of the son and the mother. “What did you dress up as instead then?” he inquired.

“Do you remember that one character in The Peanuts who always has a sheet with the cut up eyeholes covering him so he looks like a ghost?” Suga turned to look at him, blinking earnestly as he waited for Oikawa’s reply.

“You dressed up as ghost?” Oikawa asked back with a smirk he tried to hold back.

“No,” Suga denied slowly, stressing the word. “As the character from The Peanuts who always dresses up as ghost.”

Oikawa couldn’t hold back his smirk anymore, and it escaped from him with a snort and followed by laughter as he fell sideways onto the floor.

“He was very cute,” Akiko defended maternally.

“I was covered by a sheet!” Suga protested with faint indignation. “How could you possibly call me cute when you couldn’t even see me?”

Oikawa roared with laughter, lying on his back on the floor, holding his stomach, his legs kicking on the floor and on Suga’s lap.

“I always thought you were cute, no mattered what you were covered in.” Akiko replied with a sincere, adoring tone.

“Ew, mom!” Suga exclaimed with a gasp.

“What?” She sounded genuinely confused now. “I meant when you were little and your face was covered in jam, or when you came home from practice all sweaty, or when you were covered in sand after playing at the sandbox building sandcastles.” She paused for a moment there. “What did you mean?”

“Nothing.” Suga deflected, the slight embarrassment in his tone causing more Oikawa to laugh even harder, even though his stomach was already hurting, tears slipping out of his eyes from the force of his mirth.

He could guess, and most probably be right, of what Suga had meant, having participated in that “nothing” covering a part of Suga now and then ever since they became a thing.

“Do I want to know what you meant?” Akiko asked, her eyes a little narrowed with what must’ve been suspicion.

“You don’t,” Suga admitted in a lowered tone, while Oikawa tried to contain his laughter, his face twisting with the effort of it and little sounds of amusement escaping him.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Oikawa hummed in his thoughts, sleepy and just about to fall asleep. It had been a couple of emotional days, a real roller coaster of feelings.

It had been good, in a way, since it had kept him from obsessing about his thesis, about preparing to defend it, to debate his opinions and findings and conclusions.

“Not really,” he answered Suga’s question in a whisper after some careful consideration, and rolled to his side so he could throw his arm around Suga’s middle, and his leg over Suga’s. Even with the knowledge that Suga would wriggle free in his sleep, Oikawa never stopped clinging onto him when they went to sleep. As long as Suga let him do it, he was going to do it, no matter what the end product by morning would be.

“You and your mother kept me from thinking about it too much.”

“I figured you were as ready as you could ever be,” Suga stated softly and easily.

“Probably,” Oikawa agreed, his fingers tightening on Suga’s shirt as he nuzzled a little closer to the warmth that Suga’s body emanated.

He was ready to fall asleep any second now, feeling content, even with everything that had happened. The fight with Suga about Terushima, Akiko’s surprise earlier arrival, finding out that his mother knew that he was about to leave the school life for good, and everything positive that had happened as well.

“I’m proud of you,” Suga whispered, his voice fitting the lull of the night and the dark room, and his thumb tenderly moving up and down on the side of Oikawa’s neck.

Oikawa sighed, content and satisfied, with a smile and a light heart.

“Love you,” Suga whispered again, and pressed a kiss to Oikawa’s hair.

“Suga-chan?”

Suga’s responding hum was slow, as was his fingers movement through Oikawa’s hair.

“Could you spoon me?”

Oikawa felt Suga’s fingers stop moving, and he could swear that Suga stopped breathing for a moment, the movement of Suga’s chest under him ceasing.

“You don’t hav-“

“Roll over,” Suga replied, pushing on Oikawa’s shoulder.

A grin spread on Oikawa’s lips, and he promptly and as quickly as he could with his tired body rolled over to his other side. He felt Suga’s body press against his back soon after, an arm around his middle, legs slotted together and Suga’s faint but warm breath down his neck.

“Are you sure I don’t feel like a backpack?” Suga whispered, his lips tickling Oikawa’s neck, his hand traveling under Oikawa’s shirt and his touch cooler against Oikawa’s stomach.

He squirmed just a little with the feeling, shifting just a smidgen. “Nope,” he answered with a happy grin. “This is perfect.”

He felt Suga hum more than heard it, and a moment later he was a little surprised to feel lips at the corner of his jaw.

“Are you giving me a love bite?” he asked when he felt the light bite of teeth, the wetness of sucking.

“A love bite?” Suga’s burst of laugh was more breath than sound.

“That’s what they’re called,” Oikawa defended indignantly.

“I know,” Suga soothed him, peppering his neck with feather soft kisses. “And I wasn’t giving you one, but I can.”

“Sure felt like you were,” Oikawa muttered, grasping onto Suga’s hand and playing with his fingers to distract himself from the embarrassment.

“Do you want one?”

Oikawa paused his fiddling with Suga’s fingers.

“Tooru?”

He felt Suga rise a little behind him, maybe propping himself on his other elbow to peek at his face.

“I’m thinking,” Oikawa said. “I’m not sure if I want to see a picture of me years from now with a red and blue mark on my neck on one the biggest days of my life.”

“You mean, your youth and the evidence that someone who loves you immortalized?” Suga’s whisper was quieter than earlier, and Oikawa caught the sentiment, the love of it.

He instinctively pressed back closer to Suga and brought his hand up to his lips, to give a kiss on his knuckles.

Suga nuzzled his neck. “I could give you one somewhere else. The collar of a dress shirt could hide a lot.”

Oikawa felt the smirk against his nape and he rolled back a little to look at Suga, barely distinguishing his features in the dark without his glasses. “The ones on my thighs haven’t really faded yet.”

“Do you want more?” Suga was quick to offer.

Oikawa chuckled softly as he brought his hand behind Suga’s neck to bring him closer, and kissed him on his lips, licking into his mouth.

“I’m good,” he whispered, his lips brushing on Suga’s. “Now, spoon me,” he demanded in that same soft tone of voice, rolling back to his side and pulling on Suga’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist. “I want to fall asleep like this.”

Suga settled behind him, as he had been earlier, without a word, but Oikawa heard the soft contented sigh from behind him, as he fell asleep with a small on his lips.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Darling.”

Suga heard his mother’s call, but he didn’t react to it. He was too busy absent-mindedly turning the now empty cup, that earlier had had green tea wafting warm steam out of it, in his hands.

“Koushi, honey.”

Suga felt soft fingers brush his hair from his face, and looked up to see his mother peering in to see his face.

“You seem troubled,” she whispered with a concerned furrow and a crease in her forehead. “What is going on?”

“Okay, I’m ready,” Oikawa’s voice interrupted before Suga had had the presence of mind to even think about his answer to his mother.

“Don’t you look handsome!” Akiko gushed almost immediately, her hand disappeared from Suga’s hair, and a wide and proud smile on her face.

Suga knew why she hid her concern from Oikawa – he knew his mother had a thing about showing concern, _when_ to show it and to _who_ at that time of _when._

He turned in his seat as well, to see Oikawa just emerged from the hallway, dressed in his suit, his hair neatly brushed and combed into the small ponytail, but still a few locks had escaped and were framing his face. Not that Oikawa minded, Suga knew it, and he somehow looked better like that.

“Thank you, Akiko-san,” Oikawa replied with a wide grin, running his hands down the lapels of his suit jacket. “Do you think the tie is too glaring?”

“No,” Akiko shook her head, her eyes still eating up the vision that Oikawa was. “It’s perfect.” She turned to Suga then, to nudge him go forward.

“Go stand next to Tooru so I can take a picture of you two.”

“No way,” Suga refused with a nervous laugh. “He’s too blinding.” He bit his bottom lip as he looked Oikawa up and down again, slowly, his eyes lingering on everything they saw, and appreciating every single second that he was allowed to stare. When his gaze met Oikawa’s, he saw the satisfied smirk, as if Oikawa knew exactly what he was thinking. Which was fine. He wanted Oikawa to know that he was watching. After the party, his mother had promised to go and stay with Daichi and Iwaizumi, who were over the moon about the fact, so he and Oikawa could be alone in their apartment.

Suga just had to make it for... He glanced at his wrist watch, and wanted to groan as he thought of how torturous the next eight hours would be for him as he would have to impatiently wait until he could have Oikawa all to himself. He had already dreamed about marking Oikawa’s thighs, and various other body parts, with more _love bites,_ as Oikawa had adorably called them last night.

“But you’re handsome too,” Akiko cooed, as if she was talking to a toddler, trying to convince the said toddler to as she wanted.

“I thought lying was bad,” Suga said seriously.

“Koushi,” she sighed, but with a smile.

“Mom –“

“Koushi,” she interrupted fiercely, and Suga shut up.

“Go and stand next to Tooru. It is my prerogative as your mother to take pictures of you next to your boyfriend.”

“Come Suga-chan,” Oikawa chuckled, probably once again amused by the banter of the son and the mother. “I’ll give you a kiss,” he tried to persuade with a smile that only added to the handsome effect.

“It better be a good one,” Suga threatened and walked to him with a smile tugging on his lips to curl upwards.

“The best,” Oikawa promised.

Suga put his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders when he got to him, rose a little on his tiptoes to be on the same eyelevel, and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, all the while ignoring the never ending shutter sounds. “I cannot wait to rip this suit off of you,” he whispered to Oikawa’s ear then as he hugged him briefly and then stepped away.

Oikawa was smirking, looking thoroughly pleased, like a cat that got the cream, the milk, the yogurt and the entire dairy aisle of a supermarket.

“Is the photoshoot over now?” Suga turned to look at his mother, who was still snapping pictures of them from various angles.

“Why are you so grouchy about photos?” Akiko lowered the camera to look at her son. “You’re a photographer yourself. A photo artist.”

“Exactly, mom,” Suga stated, turned quickly to give another small kiss on Oikawa’s lips just because, and went back to his mother. “I’m the photographer. _I_ take the pictures. I’m the one _behind_ the camera, not in front of it.”

“Alright,” she relented and held his camera for him to take. “Here, you can stay behind the camera for the rest of the day.”

“Thank you,” Suga appreciated the permission that he didn’t need, framed his mother through the viewfinder, and snapped a picture. “You’re beautiful, mom,” he said softly as he took a look at the photo. She was always beautiful in Suga’s opinion, but the cameras truly loved her. It was a gene Suga was certain he hadn’t gotten from her mom, a gene she had decided to keep all to herself.

He felt arms wind around over and around his shoulders, hand settling over his collarbones and chest, a strong body press against his back.

“Really beautiful,” Oikawa commented as well, looking at the photo over Suga’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not aging backwards?”

“Alright, you two,” she laughed, playfully slapping her hand against Suga’s arm. She looked pleased though, her feathers smoothed and her smile warm. “We should get going.”

Suga agreed with her, but before he moved to follow her to the front door, he turned in Oikawa’s arms and placed his hand on Oikawa’s hip. “Are you ready?” he asked in a whisper, tilting his head up.

“I’m so ready to be done with school for the rest of my life. Let’s go say goodbye to it,” Oikawa grinned at him, cupped his jaw in his hands and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Suga smiled with adoration at Oikawa, he could feel the corners of his eyes crinkling with the sincerity of it. “Hey,” he stopped Oikawa from moving away by grabbing his suit jacket.

“That secret you went to a couple of days ago? What was it?”

It was still nagging at Suga that he didn’t know, and it was just another thing filling his head with thoughts he didn’t need, his heart with feelings he was already too overwhelmed to deal with.

“Still a secret,” Oikawa smirked, pecked Suga and took his hand to lead him to the front door, where Akiko was already waiting for them with a fond smile as she eyed them.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Proud of you,” Suga whispered against his lips. “Love you.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa replied to Suga’s first words, and kissed him for the last ones.

“Don’t hog him all to yourself,” Iwaizumi said from next to them.

Oikawa let go of Suga reluctantly but with a slight chuckle. “Aw, Iwa-chan, I knew you still loved me.”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi replied with a small smile as he pulled Suga-less Oikawa to a warm hug. “You did great.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa sighed and pulled away from Iwaizumi’s arms, looking at Suga over his best friend’s shoulder with a smile.

“Well done, Oikawa,” Daichi said, patting him softly and a little awkwardly on the shoulder, but still, his smile was just as warm as everyone else’s. Guess their differences, all of them, every single they’ve had since the day they met, were put away and forgotten. At last.

“I’m so proud of you Tooru,” Akiko hugged him next, so tightly it was as if she was trying to press the love into him. “So very proud.” She kissed his cheek when she pulled away.

Oikawa smiled, pleased and happy and relieved, and looked to Suga on instinct. He noticed him lower the camera and their gazes met, filled with love and adoration. But the shadow was still there, behind Suga’s eyes. Oikawa hated seeing it, but he knew they, and especially he, couldn’t do anything about it right then and there. He still had to wait a bit before he could settle down with Suga to really talk everything open. He knew Suga had something on his heart that he wanted to unload, and he himself had big news as well that he had foolishly held onto for so long. He hadn’t meant to keep secrets from Suga, but trying to be coy had led him to his predicament, and now he just had to weather the storm of different feelings demanding to be felt for a while longer.

“We should probably head back home before the guests have eaten everything before we join in,” Akiko suggested.  

“Let’s go.” Oikawa agreed with a grin, just a tiny bit forced onto his lips, took Akiko’s arm and they walked with their arms linked to the car, Suga, Daichi and Iwaizumi following them.

Oikawa crammed his long legs onto the backseat with Suga and Daichi, Suga in the middle, for the second time that day. Akiko had insisted to sit on the backseat, but everyone else had insisted harder that she sit in the front. Iwaizumi was automatically the driver, it was his car after all, so there wasn’t even a discussion.

“They didn’t come,” Oikawa whispered to Suga, briefly leaning to his side.

“No, they didn’t,” Suga reaffirmed with a gentle smile. “Are you disappointed?”

Oikawa denied with a shake of his head, and let his lips form a relieved smile when he directed a smile to Suga.

Suga smiled back, and placed his hand on Oikawa’s thigh when he moved his gaze forward, his thumb softly and tenderly moving up and down on it.

“I bet everyone’s been playing around all the time that they had for decorating and preparing,” Iwaizumi stated.

“They might surprise you one day,” Suga replied. “They know this is important. I’m sure they’ve tried their best.”

“But their best is far from what is the desired outcome,” Iwaizumi retorted.

“If you’re so worried that the apartment is as dull as always –“

“Hey!” Suga protested.

“ – you should’ve stayed behind to do the decorating yourself.” Daichi said, and only then offered a sheepish smile to Suga, and to Oikawa behind him. “I like your apartment, I just meant that in contrast to how it’s looked whenever there’s party decorations, the overall look is bland because the decorations for parties are really colorful and over the top and –“

“Daichi, breathe,” Suga advised calmly.

Oikawa leaned back in his seat and looked out the window with a satisfied smile, pleased that he had managed to make the steady and dependable Daichi, the one everyone runs to in a crisis, ramble to cover his nerves because he thought he had seriously offended him and Suga.

“It’s fine, I get what you mean,” Suga continued to soothe his best friend.

Oikawa heard Iwaizumi’s quiet chuckles from the front seat and he glanced through the rearview mirror to confirm that there really was a faint smile on his face. Guess he was amused by Daichi’s fluster as well.

Even Akiko was silently laughing, but tried to valiantly and very politely hide it behind her hand as she leaned her elbow by the window.

“I’m dull.” Suga stated, a continuation of his calming words to Daichi.

“No, no, Suga,” Daichi hurried to explain himself, while everyone else burst into laughter. Because –

“Suga, you’re the least dull person inside this vehicle,” Iwaizumi said out loud Oikawa’s exact thoughts.

“You can’t say that and mean it honestly when my mother is in here as well,” Suga pointed out with the happiest smile Oikawa had seen for a while on him.

Akiko was laughing, her giggles filling the empty spaces inside the car. “Stop teasing, Daichi,” she said through her delight, glancing back to Suga with nothing but smiles, her scolding only in what the words meant on paper, none of it in her tone or look.

“But he makes it so easy,” Suga looked to Daichi as he said, and the two shared a short eye connection, both subtly smiling, something only years of unwavering friendship could amount to, something rare and only between the two of them.

It was easy to forget all the gnawing thoughts at the back of his mind as Oikawa enjoyed the lighthearted teasing, joined in on the genuine laughter and warm merriment, and relaxed against Suga’s familiar body and comforting presence. Before he really noticed it, they were already back home, and Iwaizumi was pulling over at one of the scarce parking spaces.

“Is it because our apartment doesn’t have drapes that it looks so bland?” Suga questioned Daichi as they all piled out of the car. He had kept on teasing Daichi in the same manner, getting more and more heavier sighs as a response from Daichi, to the delight and amusement of everyone else.

“Oh no,” Suga moaned under his breath, as if a thought had dawned on him. “It’s Kumamon, isn’t it? He’s not exotic enough.”

“Suga, enough,” Daichi sighed, his hand reaching behind him and soon held in Iwaizumi’s when the man stepped up to walk next to him.

“Or is it the fairy lights? Are they too much?” Suga continued anyway.

“Koushi, darling, we get your point,” Akiko tried in turn, still smiling as if she was having the time of her life witnessing her son tease his best friend. Oikawa got the feeling that she had grown accustomed to it years ago, probably already when the boys had become friends in high school.

“But what if our apartment is dull because of the lack of multicolored throw pillows?” Suga asked with genuine concern, by the looks of it, and he stopped with a shocked gasp. “Is it the photos of all our friends on the walls? Is that why our apartment is dull to you Daichi?”

Oikawa chuckled, looking over to Daichi to see him shake his head with soft exasperation, the softness in his smile. But Akiko had been right. Suga was doing a good job bringing up everything in their apartment that should prove that there was color and life in there, successfully making the point that their apartment was far from dull.

Oikawa turned his eyes ahead to make sure he didn’t stumble onto anything, a couple of steps ahead of everyone, and he noticed a figure hovering by the front door, the person’s back straight and hands patiently clasped behind his back as he watched them approach.

Okawa stilled when he recognized the face, while everyone else continued on past him, apparently not noticing the person, too occupied by their fun.

It took a while for him to place the name to the face, longer than he’d have liked, but it was understandable, Oikawa thought. It had been a couple of years since the last time they’d seen each other.

But he had to make sure he was right, and his question came out with a faint gasp as his hold around his degree tightened, almost crumbling the paper.

 

 

 

 “Dad?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (there was a song I listened to exclusively when I wrote the scene of Oikawa and Daichi's conversation in the beginning of the chapter, but it's in Finnish so I don't think it's really all that relevant to tell you about it, but I'm still going to do it.   
> The translation of the title of the song into English would be "No one is never owned by anyone", and the lyrics are of no one belonging to anyone, ever, at all, of being able to let go of that someone so they could come back if they so want to, of it being easy to say but harder to make happen, the most perfect line of the song goes something like this  
>  _"I'm trying to learn to understand that there's no way I could hold you so tight that the wind could not take you away"_.  
>  It's a really pretty song and I love it and it became the theme for what Oikawa was largely going through when he thought about Suga) 
> 
>  
> 
> to be continued:
> 
> "I love him."  
> "Which one?"
> 
>  
> 
> (Please don't hate me for this, it's just a heads up that the next chapter is going to be kind of heavy, not angsty, but heavy)


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait, sincerely. I want to send my most heartfelt apologies to everyone who has been waiting for the next chapter. 
> 
> A little recap of the last monster of a chapter:  
> Suga's mom came to visit for Oikawa's graduation, Suga told her that they're dating, Oikawa and Daichi had a heart to heart when Oikawa went to him for advice on how to apologize to Suga for their fight about Terushima, Kuroo had mentioned to Suga that maybe Terushima only wants to be his friend because he still loves Suga and they fought, and then Terushima admitted still being in love to Oikawa (for the second time if you remember that far back in the story), we found out what was Suga's deal with Konoha, Oikawa and Akiko shared a moment with Akiko braiding his hair, Suga was horny and wanted to rip Oikawa's suit off of him, and Oikawa's dad made a surprise visit  
> I think that's about it
> 
>  
> 
> If you're wondering why I was gone for so long (feel free to skip to the start of the chapter if you don't care) - *in a tiny voice* I broke my hand, well actually, three fingers in my dominant hand  
> And I couldn't write  
> For a month  
> It was torture, and I kept coming up with more and more ideas to write, but couldn't write them.  
> So, when I finally got the wrappings off of my fingers and had the full use of all of my ten digits, I got an anxiety attack because I didn't know and I couldn't decide what to write first. Which, yeah, not fun. And it kept happening for about a week, everytime I thought about writing.  
> So.... I had to take a little time away from my laptop and I only watched movies whenever I felt the urge to write, old movies that I'd seen a hundred times already, movies that I knew wouldn't give me more ideas for more stories or scenes to write. It was admittedly fun, though, to watch all the Ghibli movies again :)  
> (Couldn't watch Haikyuu for obvious reasons, or other anime that I love, couldn't read fanfiction... It was hell for me and I was bored out of my mind for the most of my free time) 
> 
> But, I'm back with a new chapter, and I will be back for every week until this story is finished :)

 

 

 

The early morning sun was streaming inside through the windows, and Akiko soaked in the warmth of it as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent wafting from her steaming cup of tea, held between her hands as she leaned her elbows on top of the kitchen island. The scent reassured her, gave her an intriguing sense of empowerment, as if it had simultaneously told her that she belonged where she was at that very moment both spiritually and physically, and that she couldn’t do wrong – a feeling of calm contentment washing over her.

When she opened her eyes, it was to look at her son, sat on the couch, completely immersed in whatever it was he was doing on his laptop, seemingly lost to the world around him.

She assumed he was doing something with the photos he’d taken, maybe working on his next exhibit, the memory card reader connected to his laptop and his fingers only moving on arrow keys and sometimes clicking this and that before he returned to the arrow keys. His expression was pensive but open, and it reassured her that she didn’t need to worry.

But, as she sipped her tea, she wondered why her son was so eager to slip away into his own thoughts, why he was so contemplative half the time he was around other people. This was usual behavior of him.

Checking out of the conversation around him wasn’t like her son, it wasn’t like Koushi at all, who was always so attentive and paid attention to those who asked for it, verbally or just in inaction, and to say the least, she was _worried._

She was Mom Worried, with capital letters and heavy emphasis on all the things it entailed.

She needed to have a talk with him. They needed to have a good long talk about everything, away from prying eyes and too large ears and even bigger mouths.

“Is anyone up yet?” a voice asked as the front door was opened, the sound pulling Akiko’s focus away from her son to the newcomer.

It was still relatively early, although so far into the spring already, the sun had been up for hours. So, she hadn’t expected anyone, especially after a big party, but was still more than glad to see Daichi and Hajime walk in, the latter still half-asleep and led inside with a hand on wrist to steer him so he didn’t stumble or trip onto anything.

“Good morning,” Akiko greeted with kindness, straightening a little to casually lean against the island instead of being draped over it, and smiled at the visitors.

“Good morning,” Daichi said back with a smile as he looked around the space.

Akiko noticed how his eyes stilled for a moment on Suga before they finished the round and landed back on her.

“I hope that it’s okay that we came so early.”

Akiko shook her head a little, touched by the thoughtfulness of Daichi’s words. “It’s fine. The only one sleeping in Tooru.”

“Yeah,” Daichi drawled as he stopped on the other side of the island, across from here, depositing asleep Hajime on one of the chairs there. “Why is Suga awake already? He loves to sleep in.”

“I don’t know,” Akiko answered truthfully, her worried eyes back on her son. “He was sleeping on the couch when I woke up.”

“Why?” Hajime took interest in their conversation. “What did Oikawa do this time?” He was blinking his eyes open, clearly trying hard to keep them open for longer than just a fraction of a second. “Also, I need coffee, but I really, _really_ need coffee if the asshole did something.”

Akiko smiled softly at him. “I don’t know more than you do,” she replied and turned away to make herself useful and went to pour coffee for the poor sleepy man. She’d never witnessed Hajime like this, and was instantly thrilled to find out if she could get answers to questions she’d been dying to know but had been apprehensive to ask in fear of being rudely shot down for being too forward. She was curious to know how loose his lips were when their brain was still half-asleep.

And yes, she knew how diabolical she was and how right her son was to call her out on it and then to accuse her of gossiping when she told someone in confidence what she’d found out. But how could you blame her for gossiping when all the information she forwarded was cuter than a bunny with a button nose that twitched as it smelled a flower?

“You think Suga is mad at him for the thing?” she heard Hajime ask, presumably from Daichi, and she pulled her focus back from Suga to the couple sat by island. She couldn’t see them with her back towards them as she waited for the coffee to drip, but could imagine how Daichi probably shrugged with his answer.

“Maybe. Although Suga said that he understood.”

Akiko was interested to know more, her metaphorical feelers up in the air and pointing towards possible gossip, the deep desire inside her to know more filling her with questions to find out what the two were talking about. Why would her son be mad at Tooru? They seemed fine, better than just fine. She pretended not to listen on them, acting casual and a little bored to wait for the coffee as the scent quickly filled the kitchen, but thinking hard.

She had her reasons – she was a mother, she was worried, and her son was in question.

Sure, Suga had admitted two days ago that they’d had a little fight. Maybe the fight had come up last night again. Maybe that was why Suga had been on the couch.

However, she wanted to believe Suga, wanted to believe that he’d told the truth when he’d said that he’d just happened to fall asleep on the couch watching television when she’d asked about it.

“Here you go,” she turned back to the couple with the cups of coffee for them, putting them down carefully in front of them on the island. “You drink it black, right?” she asked to be considerate, although she knew the answer from years past.

“Yeah,” Daichi answered, confirming her once to again have remembered right. “Thank you.” He went to take a sip from his cup, where Akiko hadn’t even left any room to add anything else, while Hajime was scrutinizing Suga, still lost in his contemplation and work on his laptop.

“I’m going to wake Oikawa up,” Hajime decided all of a sudden, abandoning his coffee on the island and getting up on steady feet that moved his straight to the hallway before either Akiko or Daichi had a chance to say anything about it. Not that either one of them would’ve said or done a thing to stop him.

“You look worried,” Daichi commented quietly as they were left alone.

Akiko moved her gaze from Suga to Daichi to see how he was looking at her with a hint of a worry in his expression, his eyebrows quirked up as a question.

“I am.”

“Oh?” Daichi’s face opened with his surprise. “About what?”

“Koushi, of course,” she replied patiently, serious as she could be.

“Why?” Daichi turned sideways on the chair as he kept sipping his coffee to look at Suga. “He seems to be working. And he has fallen asleep on the couch before. Yesterday was a heavy day.”

“That’s true,” Akiko nodded along, agreeing with Daichi. “But it’s not this morning that worries me. He’s been off for my whole visit.”

“You don’t think it’s just because he’s living with his boyfriend and you’re witnessing it for the first time? He values your opinion, you know.”

Akiko smiled at Daichi’s words, momentarily pleased. She did know that Suga appreciated her and everything she was to him. More often than not she had suspected that he hadn’t told her that he was dating anyone because he was afraid of what she might think of his boyfriends.

“I don’t think it’s just that. He already knew how fond I am of Tooru. Well...” she hummed as she thought, turning her almost empty cup of tea absently in her hands as she kept studying Suga. “Maybe on the first day he might’ve been nervous,” she came to realize with a considering head tilt. “It took him hours to tell me that the two of them are dating. But since then, he’s kept slipping into this almost meditative headspace now and then, and I think it has something to do with a certain ex-boyfriend of his.”

“Which one?” Daichi asked with his eyebrow raised, his grin hidden behind his cup.

Akiko rolled her eyes. “The one I hadn’t met before,” she answered with an amused breath of exasperation.

“Again,” Daichi said with a heavy press on the word. “Which one?”

She reached over the island to slap Daichi’s arm to lightly reprimand him for finding anything amusing about the fact that she’d never met any of her son’s boyfriends when they were still dating, until Tooru that was, while Daichi chuckled into his cup, the sound muffled and echo-y in the light and warm air in the kitchen. The sun was still shining through the window, but grey clouds were arriving in from the horizon, as the forecast had predicted they would.

 

 

...

 

 

Iwaizumi didn’t dilly-dally as he made his way to Oikawa’s bedroom, and he definitely didn’t cringe away from sounding like a bull in a china shop as he threw the door open and stomped inside.

He didn’t minimize the sound level of his actions, since he knew it wouldn’t wake the sleeping beauty, who was clutching onto a pillow, breathing through his mouth, positioned on the bed in a way that if Suga had been in the bed with him, he would be half buried under Oikawa’s bodyweight.

Iwaizumi paused for a moment in his advancement as he considered how to proceed with the waking up. He grabbed the first thing he saw, a stray pillow somehow kicked , or thrown, to the end of the bed, and whacked Oikawa hard on his head with it.

“Get up,” he barked, and let the pillow hit Oikawa on his head in another large arc, maximizing the hurt, to shock Oikawa up.

“Ow, what the hell?” Oikawa mumbled, blinking his eyes open, looking more confused than offended that his sleep had been abruptly disturbed.

Iwaizumi observed him for a slow breath, in and out, and decided that Oikawa looked too much like he’d fall back asleep any second, and for good measure hit him with the pillow again.

“Get up,” he stated, and for good luck, hit Oikawa for the fourth and final time, letting go of the pillow now so it stayed on Oikawa’s face until it was pushed away with an annoyed huff.

“I don’t feel like playing pillow fight right now. I want to sleep,” Oikawa whined and turned onto his other side, turning his back to Iwaizumi. “It’s one of my last day offs before I have to get up early for work.” He spoke through a yawn, and added as he made an exaggerated show of settling more comfortably under the covers, “I deserve my beauty sleep.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and crossed his arm in front of his chest. Of course Oikawa would be too obtuse and selfish to not notice the lack of another presence in the bed, the lack of a warm body he probably usually curled around.

“Why is Suga mad at you?” he asked, getting straight to what he wanted to know. It was too early in the morning and he was severely lacking with caffeine to deal with Oikawa and his ways. Not that he’d ever admit to needing coffee in the mornings to Oikawa, who already teased him about it, most likely just because he kept insisting otherwise.

“What are you talking about?” Oikawa mumbled with a sleepy frown, his face scrunched as if he couldn’t decide whether to fall back asleep or if Iwaizumi’s question and the rude wake up call were important enough to wake up for.

Iwaizumi sighed, the air coming through his nose short and irritated. “Why did Suga sleep on the couch?”

“He slept on the couch?” Oikawa sounded more confused than tired now as he fought his eyes open. His hand was blindly patting on the bed, the vacated space on the mattress before he rolled over to peer at Iwaizumi, his eyes narrowed and squinted as he probably tried to see Iwaizumi better without his glasses. “Why would Suga be mad at me?”

Oikawa sounded vulnerable with his confusion and Iwaizumi wasn’t heartless enough to be harsh with him anymore.

“I don’t know,” he still said in a voice that pretty much stated that he knew exactly why Suga was mad at him. “Maybe because his boyfriend asked him to be just his roommate yesterday?”

He paused for effect, to build up the drama before he continued.

“Maybe because he loves this asshole of a boyfriend?” he said with meaningfully raised eyebrow, simultaneously judging Oikawa for what he’d asked from Suga the day before.

Okawa needed only a second to think about it, and Iwaizumi sighed in relief, although he’d deny it if it was ever pointed out to him, when Oikawa hastily kicked and threw the covers off of him.

“Okay, yeah, he’s mad at me,” Oikawa agreed as he sat up, his hand rubbing the sleep from his eye, stumbling a little as his foot got caught up into the sheets.

Iwaizumi snickered at his gracelessness, a low sound coming from somewhere deep where he harbored the part that found the physical comedy of his friends’ fumbling funny.

“Shut up,” Oikawa shot back in an equally low voice, and sounded admittedly threatening enough with it too to halt Iwaizumi’s snickers, although the grin never wavered from his lips.

Oikawa was already making his way across the room to the open door, sliding the glasses he took from his bedside table on his nose. He only stopped to pull socks on – pink with polka dots on them that irrefutably brought joy for Iwaizumi to see – before he was out of the room.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms high over his head, his back uncurling with the sound of his vertebrae popping. He glanced at the time, the little numbers at the bottom of his laptop screen. He hadn’t thought he’d sat in that one position for long, not until he heard and felt the popping of his spine as he straightened from his slumped position, rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side to work the stiffness away.

He had his headphones on as he “worked”, his laptop propped up in his lap, to muffle the sounds of domestic life from around him, or the sounds of his mother puttering around in the kitchen.

As he deleted a blurry photo from the folder he had titled “Proud”, one in midst of many that featured mainly Oikawa during his graduation party, he could hear the faint sound of someone laughing, and he looked up over the screen of the laptop to see what had been the cause.

His mother and Daichi were doubled over in the kitchen, laughing at... Suga had no idea what they were talking about, but they seemed to have fun.

Then Suga frowned, just a slight upwards furrow in his eyebrows. He hadn’t even noticed Daichi’s arrival.

Suga kept lightly frowning at himself as he returned to cleaning up the folder from the failed photos, the ones that had been taken with too much movement and shaking from the person who had been holding the camera, as if the fun and laughter had been much more important the perfect focus of the photo. He couldn’t think of a reason for why he’d fail to notice Daichi’s arrival, but ultimately figured to just brush the matter off as he must’ve been too focused on his work, too wrapped up in his own world in the small and comfortable space he’d created for himself with the headphones.

Suga clicked past a couple of photos of Oikawa shaking hands with his professor, both with smiles on their faces. He could accurately describe the quality of the smile on the professor’s lips – he knew it well from wearing a similar one of his own that same day. Proud.

Whereas Oikawa was downright beaming, smiling widely, pleased with himself to an extent that he was emanating it, filling up the space around him with it, so strong that it had been captured into the photo as a feeling to be felt, not just an expression to be seen.

Suga was pulled from his thoughts, from his memories of the moment just one day past when the music was abruptly pulled away from him – yes, pulled away from him and not him pulled away from it – when the weight from his ears disappeared.

“Hey, space-y,” Oikawa’s voice was fond as Suga looked to him, startled out of his bubble wrap.

“Hey,” he still smiled back as he took the headphones from Oikawa’s hold and set them down on the coffee table in front of him, a little weirded out that Oikawa hadn’t come up with a better endearment for him. “Did you need something?”

“How about ‘a good morning’–kiss?” Oikawa grinned softly.

Suga acquiesced easily, and leaned closer to Oikawa to grant his simple wish.

“So you’re not mad at me?” Oikawa whispered after the simple kiss, his eyes searching for something in Suga’s.

Suga frowned again, this time confused and surprised by the question. “Why would I be mad at you?” he voiced his thoughts, completely baffled that Oikawa would even ask.

“No reason,” Oikawa shrugged with a grin and stole a kiss.

Suga decided to believe him. It did make sense, as he spared a moment to think about Oikawa’s question, for him to ask if he was mad. He _had been_ mad yesterday, for a brief amount of time, but gotten over it.

“I didn’t notice when you two came,” he said to the kitchen then, to the shameless oglers of their soft moment, as he leaned back and looked at Oikawa with affection.

“Clearly,” Daichi stated with sarcasm, while Oikawa made a funny little chuckle.

“What were you so focused on?” Oikawa took a look at the laptop screen, the photo focused on his smile as he had made his way back to their little group from his professor.

“I was going through the photos from yesterday,” Suga explained as he moved on through more photos, until he came to one that was inexplicably of someone’s feet. “There were a lot of blurry ones, or some taken with a too fast trigger finger.”

Oikawa chuckled next to him as he deleted the photo. He wasn’t even sure how that one had happened.

“Wait a minute!” Oikawa suddenly exclaimed with alarm, and Suga paused as he kept shuffling through the photos.

“Five thousand and thirty-seven photos! Suga-chan! What -?” Oikawa stopped as he floundered with his words.

“What?” Suga asked innocently, taking a look at the number under the gallery. “I was proud. I wanted to immortalize the moment, the day, the occasion.”

“You’re not being completely honest,” Oikawa replied with a slight grin, his look knowing as he observed Suga.

Suga furrowed his brow, just a flash of movement to show his bewilderment. He noticed the three in the kitchen shift, and soon the room was filled with the sound of the stove snigged on, the door of the fridge opening, the slide of a cutting board on the counter and the swift of a knife drawn from a drawer.

“You use synonyms or multiple words that basically mean the same thing when you’re trying to cover something up,” Oikawa explained, settling to sit next to Suga like a proper human being, his feet resting on the coffee table, and took the laptop away from him to place it in his lap.

Suga didn’t object, but leaned against Oikawa’s side to still see what his boyfriend was about to do. He chose to ignore his mother and their best friends as their casual conversation joined the sounds of their breakfast making. He was much happier to share a moment with Oikawa on the couch, looking through the photos.

“What are you hiding? What else do you have photos of?” There was a hint of curiosity in Oikawa’s voice as he clicked away from the gallery and back to the folder.

“Nothing,” Suga answered airily. “But that’s only a folder one of three that I have that has photos of your party.”

Oikawa was quiet for a moment, his hand stilled in the air above the keyboard, and Suga was a little bit apprehensive about it, not daring to take a look at Oikawa’s expression.

“Are you kidding?” Oikawa finally asked breathlessly after a beat too long for Suga’s comfort.

“I told you I was proud,” Suga replied, a bit embarrassed, mumbling against Oikawa’s shoulder. “I wanted to have the occasion as thoroughly captured as possible.”

“But did you need one, two, three, four –“ Oikawa started to count the photos with the cursor moving from one image to the other. “Eleven photos of me walking?”

“Yes,” Suga grinned, amused by Oikawa’s pleased voice, something he was sure Oikawa wasn’t conscious of doing. “Every step was important.”

Oikawa chuckled next to him again, his body shaking both of them with it. “You’re unreal,” he whispered, reverent and maybe a little bit in awe.

Suga bit his bottom lip to quell his grin, pleased as well now that he knew Oikawa wasn’t too disturbed of how overboard he’d gone with the photos.

He kept watch as Oikawa went through the photos, pausing now and then to delete the unsuccessful ones. He kept lightly resting against Oikawa’s side, his finger absentmindedly moving back and forth on Oikawa’s thigh, following the side seam of his pajama bottoms.

“When did you take this one?” Oikawa asked when the background in the photos had moved from outside to inside the apartment. On the forefront of the photo was Oikawa hugging Akiko.

“When you came in with your dad,” Suga replied, tapping on the arrow key to move through the photos he’d taken of everyone hugging Oikawa in their turn to congratulate him, until there was the one where Oikawa had introduced his father to everyone, quite awkwardly despite his usually effortlessly charming demeanor.

“What did you and your dad talk about when we left you alone with him?” Suga asked, carefully choosing the way he said it, cautious but not like he was tiptoeing around the subject.

Oikawa had been quiet about their conversation, but the consensus between Suga and Iwaizumi – the two people most worried about the encounter – was that it had been okay since Oikawa had invited the older man upstairs into their apartment, to join the party.

“You haven’t really said anything about it,” Suga added as Oikawa continued to look through the photos with a small, happy smile.

“We didn’t really talk about much,” Oikawa replied, and then paused a moment later when he came upon a photo of Iwaizumi standing behind everyone with his eyes on Oikawa’s father, his arms crossed and expression beyond hostile. “Is it just me or does Iwa-chan look a little bit mad to you too?”

Oikawa cast a shift glance to the kitchen, probably to real live Iwaizumi, as he asked, before he looked back to Suga with an amused smirk.

“He does look like he’d like nothing more than to set your father on fire,” Suga admitted blandly.

Oikawa snickered next to him. “Yeah, there’s no love lost between them.”

“I hate him,” Iwaizumi commented from the kitchen, stating the fact outright without prompt, reminding the two of them that their conversation wasn’t all that private or inaudible to anyone else.

“But you and your dad. Are you two okay? In speaking terms?” Suga pushed on, sidestepping the hostility Iwaizumi held for Oikawa’s father. He’d been impatient to know more about the constricted father-son relationship, but careful not to show it too much, and Oikawa’s tight-lipped answers that were more non-answers than anything else had been frustrating him.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Oikawa answered casually, a small smile still lingering on his lips.

 

 

...

 

 

The day before, outside the apartment building, Oikawa was frozen.

”Hello, son.”

Oikawa was speechless and then some. Actually, he had a lot to say and not all of it pleasant in the least; he just didn’t know what order to say them in.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” Akiko said with a smile that wasn’t exactly friendly, her tone definitely icy.

Oikawa noticed how surprised his father looked when Akiko addressed him, he noticed the double look his father made, but he didn’t realize why until his father spoke.

“Sugawara Akiko? Is that really you?”

“It’s been a while,” Akiko replied, her smile still tense, as if she tried to seem friendly but didn’t actually feel like it at all.

“It certainly has,” Oikawa’s father nodded with a slightly awestruck expression, while Oikawa, and everyone else as well probably, looked on with confusion, fully perplexed by the sudden and surprising reunion. 

“I apologize for not recognizing you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Akiko brushed the apology aside as a feeling of being left out of something very important fell on the little group.

Yeah, Oikawa was filled with questions, but he didn’t feel like this was the time to ask. He felt like this was a conversation that would require an entire evening, and tonight wasn’t meant for that, and even after that, he’d probably need another day to fully come to grasps with what he’d learn. His father and Suga’s mother knowing each other? From years ago?

Yep, you could tear him in two and all that would drip to floor from that would be questions on questions.

Oikawa’s father took the silent moment that followed Akiko’s brush off to really look at the other faces too. “Ah, Hajime-kun,” he said with some delight in his voice, maybe just from recognizing a familiar face when Suga and Daichi must’ve been nothing but strangers to him.

“Oikawa-sama,” Iwaizumi nodded in greeting, his voice lifeless, bringing Oikawa back to the risks that his father could have brought with him.

Oikawa wanted to take a look around in case his mother was there too, lurking somewhere just out of sight. The last time his father and Iwaizumi had been in the same room hadn’t... Oikawa really didn’t want a repeat of what had happened then, although his mother didn’t seem to be present. Still, the possibility of a repeat of one of his worst memories prompted him to act. He really didn’t want to put his best friend go through again what had happened years ago.

So, in order to protect his best friend from further discomfort, and not to bring it to anyone else either, he decided to cut short the interaction between his father and anyone else that wasn’t him.

“Why don’t you go on up ahead?” he suggested with a smile that he knew didn’t just feel tight and fake but probably looked so as well.

“Are you sure?” Suga asked with an expression Oikawa had never seen him wear before, and took a hesitant step towards Oikawa, while still obviously holding himself back. He was looking at Oikawa with intensity that he had never experienced before either.

Oikawa was slightly puzzled and he took a glance at Akiko, who was just behind her son’s shoulder now, her face etched in the same way as Suga’s.

“I’m sure,” Oikawa nodded as reassuringly as he could when his eyes met Suga’s again. He could figure out the expression and whatever lay behind it later. Right now, he needed to find out what his father was doing here and get the people he cared about the most in the world away from the man. Just in case.

He met Iwaizumi’s eyes too and with a small understanding nod his best friend walked by him to the front door to the building, clapping him on his shoulder, a light comforting pat that somehow gave him strength to stay outside and face his father.

Daichi followed him with a stony expression, but his eyebrows quizzically raised, as if he was still surprised and concerned by that surprise and was trying to figure it out.

Oikawa noted that they weren’t holding hands anymore, when just a mere minute or two ago they had walked from the car with their hands tightly secured together and lightly swinging between them.

Suga was already unlocking the door with his keys, Akiko with the flowers cradled in her arms standing by him but watching Oikawa’s father like a mother bear sizing up a possible threat to her cubs.

The thought of protectiveness, the instinct that must’ve come to her naturally, made Oikawa smile internally with affection and gratefulness. He was relieved to know that she was at his corner, even though she knew his father, that she would direct the same care for him as she would for her son.

“Catch,” Suga called for his attention, and Oikawa’s quick reflexes saved him from fumbling and dropping the set of keys Suga threw to him in a high arch.

Oikawa looked at the dully shining objects sitting on the palm of his hand and let out a soft sigh as he realized that he didn’t have his keys with him. He wondered how Suga knew, because for the life of him, he couldn’t remember mentioning it to Suga. He looked up to see Suga lingering by the door, holding it open for the others, and watching Oikawa as if waiting for him to look up from the keys.

Oikawa nodded at Suga with a soft smile, silently showing how he was grateful for the thoughtfulness of Suga’s actions, and with quiet reassurance that he was fine, and that he’d follow them in a minute.

Only when the front door closed, only when he heard the sound of the lock snigging, did Oikawa return his gaze to his father, who had silently and patiently waited, his hands still clasped behind his back.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hushed voice, not quite a whisper but still low enough for it to pass at a library, as he pocketed the keys.

“I came to congratulate you. You’ve done well. This is a great achievement.” His father gestured to the “achievement” he was holding.

Oikawa looked at it, and tried to measure his father’s tone.

Was his father really being sincere?

He looked to his father again, their eyes at the same level, which hadn’t been the when they’d last stood so close to each other.

“You’ve grown taller,” his father immediately noted the lack of difference in their heights in a calm voice, not toneless, but lilting just enough not appear robotic – in other words, as he always talked. “And you’ve grown your hair long too.”

“Hair grows whether I want it to or not,” Oikawa quipped, pretty much stating the same his father had, just in other words to make it seem like he was contradicting him. “Whether to cut it or not is where the choice is at.”

“True,” his father nodded, a small curl at the corners of his lips to appear as if he was hiding a smile. “It still looks good.”

Oikawa wasn’t sure what to do with the unexpected compliment, and decided to just ignore it. Instead, he took a quick furtive look around again, trying to pass it as nonchalant observation of their surroundings.

“Your mother isn’t here,” his father guessed anyway.

“You came alone?” Oikawa checked anyway, too.

“Mm-hm,” his father confirmed with a single nod of his head. There was more behind that statement, Oikawa could tell.

He scoffed lightly and tucked the flyaway shorter strands that fell to frame his face behind his ear. “Can’t believe she actually listened to him,” he murmured to himself, disbelief coloring his voice at the thought that his mother had done as Suga had told her to, and didn’t come.

“What?”

Oikawa eyed his father, his curious expression. “Suga told me that mom called him to ask if you two could come.”

“Oh,” his father’s expression opened with surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

Oikawa frowned. How could his father not know that?

“I...” his father trailed off and cleared his throat to his fist, and quickly brought his hand back behind his back. “I haven’t talked to your mother for a while.”

 _This_ got Oikawa’s attention, his antennas up and searching for any sign of anything that could be amiss, any little tell that would reveal more than mere words would.

 _Why?_ he wanted to ask, but settled for “How long a while?”

“About a year,” his father answered with a quick contemplative head tilt, as if he was evaluating the stretch of time since he’d last spoken with his wife.

Oikawa was... Speechless, again. He wasn’t sure what to make of the information he was fed little by little. But if his father hadn’t talked to his mother for a year, that would only mean that –

“We got divorced.”

 _Yep,_ Oikawa nodded. He had been right.

To say he was surprised wouldn’t cover the multitude of things he was thinking and feeling. But a small spec of trepidation lingered in his mind that it was a lie, a way for his father to worm his way into his life.

“It took almost a year for her to sign the papers, and I haven’t been in contact with her since. There hasn’t been any need to.”

Oikawa kept nodding, just small movements of up and down on his chin as he chewed on the revelation that his parents were now divorced. He had _no_ idea what to think. He didn’t have a clue what to say. He was completely lost on how to feel about it.

He attempted to make a gesture with his hands, but stopped before he managed to make anything that would actually mean anything, resulting with him just giving up and his arms brushing his sides, causing the keys to softly jingle in the pocket.

“Do you –“ he stopped to give an attempt to think his thoughts through, and gave up on that too. He was too dazed after the bomb of the divorce to clearly think anything with the same care and attention he usually did. “Do you want to come up?”

His father glanced behind him, to the building looming high and bright in the sunlight above them. “Are you sure?” he turned back to check.

Oikawa nodded again, digging the keys out of his pocket. “Just...” he trailed off to find the right words to warn his father to behave as he turned the keys in the lock and pulled the door open. “A lot of my friends, they uh...”

His father had followed him the couple of steps to the front door, and stopped next to him as he waited for him to finish his sentence.

“None of them are straight.”

His father’s lips twitched with a smile that looked eerily amused.

“So, watch what you say,” Oikawa added and gestured for his father to enter first.

 

 

...

 

 

Back in the present, on the couch Suga and Oikawa were sitting on, Suga felt reassured by Oikawa’s answer, how peacefully it came, and settled to wait for Oikawa to be ready to elaborate, no matter what day it came on, how long the wait would be. Just as long as Oikawa wouldn’t start the analogy of what had transpired with ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away’. He was already quoting Star Wars almost weekly, thanks to his boyfriend’s obsession with the franchise.

“By the way, is this a good time to revisit the subject of our dads knowing each other?” Oikawa asked, far too nonchalantly in Suga’s opinion.

“Nope,” he refused immediately. “It’s still too weird.”

“How is it weird?” Akiko interrupted from the kitchen, her tone indicating how she disagreed on the sentiment of it being weird, probably thinking the absolute contrary to it.

“It’s just weird,” Suga replied, glancing at his mother, meeting her baffled gaze.

“How?”

“It’s just...” Oikawa tried to explain, but seemed to be just as unable to as Suga, to put real words into the feeling to appropriately describe it. “I mean, what are the chances of that?” He made an exasperated gesture with his hands, throwing them mid-air and letting them fall limp to his lap.

“You’re both from Miyagi,” Akiko replied. “It’s not too much of a coincidence for your fathers to have known each other.”

“Mom, they didn’t just know each other, they were friends,” Suga kept insisting on the eeriness of their connection. He was still unsettled after his talk with Oikawa’s father, of how he got the feeling of how close friends their fathers had been.

 

 

...

 

 

The sounds of laughter, merriment, the joy in everyone’s voice filled the apartment as Suga walked away from the main hubbub and towards his room, taking out the full memory card from his camera.

 

But he stopped mid-step, just over the threshold of his room, a little bit scared by the sudden presence in there. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here,” he apologized to Oikawa’s father, cautiously looking at the older man.

“No, I apologize for wandering around like this,” he replied in a deep reassuring voice, his tone unmistakably sincere. “This is your room, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Suga answered pleasantly. “I just came to get a new memory card.” ‘He held the small item higher in his hand, between his fingers, feeling some weird tugging inside his head to explain what he was doing, in his own room, in his apartment, to the man who wasn’t all that welcomed by everyone else.

“Is photography your hobby?” Oikawa’s father motioned to the cameras on the shelf, the cameras he had must’ve been inspecting as he was standing next to the shelf when Suga came.

“Um,” Suga hesitated as he went to his desk. “It’s more of a profession,” he replied without looking at the man.

“Do you take photos for a paper? Or is it nature? Fashion?” Oikawa’s father sounded curious, and Suga couldn’t help but wonder why he was so interested to learn more about him as he pointed towards the large photo he had framed and put up on his wall as an answer.

Oikawa’s father looked at it for a moment, and then turned back to Suga. “Art?”

“Some people call it art,” Suga admitted with a shy smile. “I just call them photos.” He turned to the drawer he’d pulled open from his desk and took out an empty memory card and put it in the camera with practiced ease.

“You make your living with them?”

“I manage.” Suga replied, more focused on the camera as he checked how much space there was left on the one, and was glad to find it completely empty. It would take him at least an hour and a half, maybe even two hours to fill it with photos.  

“I have to admit, I looked you up.”

Suga paused with the inspection of his camera and slowly looked up.

“Your photos are very valuable. I’d say you’re very comfortable with what you make with your photos. More than just comfortable.”

Suga was reminded of Oikawa, of how he spoke so confidently and with a little bit of a smug air in his voice, as if he was successful in knowing more about something than he had initially led on.

“I try to live humbly,” Suga responded, wary of how much the man knew about him, and Oikawa, and about him _and_ Oikawa.

“Good man,” the older man nodded and looked at the photo again.

Suga was done with the memory cards, and ready to go back and fill the new one with photos as well, ready to hurry from his room and to get away from this conversation, but something kept him in place.

“When I found out your name is Sugawara, I really didn’t imagine that you’d be my old friend’s son,” the man said, sounding a little surprised about it still.

Suga relaxed a little, the mention of his father catching him off guard. “How old of a friend? How old were you when you became friends?” he was intrigued to know.

“Since first grade until high school graduation.”

“Always in the same class?”

“Until high school, and even then we remained friends.”

“What happened after?” Suga was drawn in the new information. He didn’t know much about his father’s school days, and as he was growing older, he found himself wondering on his father’s past more and more.

Oikawa’s father smiled pleasantly, as if he wasn’t just amused by Suga’s thirst for knowledge, but actually happy to tell him more about his fond memories, of their past friendship. “Different universities, drifted apart when we made new friends. I’m sure you know how it goes.”

Suga nodded, understanding.

“Your mother said he’s unavoidably detained. Is he at work?”

“No,” Suga shook his head as he dropped his gaze to the floor. He hated the reminders, the questions that required his answer. “He died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. When?”

Suga looked up at the sound of genuine sorrow that could only stem from learning that an old friend had passed away. “About eleven years ago.”

“Shame.”

Oikawa’s father’s statement was heavy, as if he truly felt the regret of Suga’s father’s passing.

 

 

...

 

 

Five minutes later, Oikawa found Suga in his room, talking to his father. No one was frowning and the atmosphere in the room wasn’t tense, so he was instantly relieved, but still apprehensive of what the two might’ve been talking about. Suga looked downright somber, while his father was serious in a way that he had never seen.

“Suga-chan?” Oikawa asked as he knocked on the doorframe to alert the two of his presence.

Suga turned to him, the look that worried him melting away.

“Your mother was looking for you, saying something about more champagne,” Oikawa explained the interruption to their conversation, deciding to address Suga’s solemnness at a later time when they could talk, just the two of them.

“Okay,” Suga smiled back to him, as if he was truly happy to have a legitimate reason to leave the room.

Oikawa offered a comforting smile to Suga as he passed by him, before he focused on his father.

“He’s very polite,” his father said once Suga was gone.

“He’s gay,” Oikawa replied bluntly.

“Doesn’t exclude one’s politeness when they appear to be so,” his father said with a good-natured smile. “And he seems like a good roommate.”

“He is,” Oikawa nodded, wincing on the inside. _Just a roommate._ He knew Suga was going to be mad at him for that one. “You know, this is Suga’s room,” he moved onto another topic, a safer topic, as he scrutinized his father through narrowed eyes. “You weren’t snooping, were you?”

“No, no,” his father denied immediately, and Oikawa believed his honesty. “And I knew this wasn’t your room from the lack of volleyball paraphernalia,” he added as he admired the black and white photo on the wall.

“Do you still play volleyball?” his father asked next, the next hit in the barrage of things Oikawa didn’t want to go through. “I’ve been following some of the college teams, and the national team too, of course, waiting to see your name in the roster.”

“I had to quit,” Oikawa spoke quickly, as if the words would burn less if he said them as fast as possible.

“Oh, why?” His father sounded truly baffled, and Oikawa sighed.

“You know, dad, I don’t really want to talk about it today.”

“Oh, okay,” his father said, sounding a little disappointed, but Oikawa was glad that he didn’t pursue further on the subject.

He did hate the lull that fell after, though, and waited for his father to say something, or maybe for an excuse to appear out of nowhere for him to bail out. It was still a little weird for him to be in the same room with his father, even if all the animosity had been buried away with a solid headstone in place with a date etched onto it. “You know I was never the one with a problem with your sexual orientation,” his father said, breaking the awkward lull, speaking quite fondly for such a proud man.

“I know,” Oikawa admitted, eyeing his father with a bit of mistrust, not really knowing what to think of their conversation. “Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when I wasn’t welcome home anymore.”

“I am aware, so,” his father replied with deep regret lacing his tone. “But your mother was adamant, what could I have done? And she only said those things because she was upset she wouldn’t get the large number of grandchildren she’s always wanted.”

Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes at the blatant and unsuccessful try at a joke his father made. “Well, I hear sister is working on it.”

His father cracked a smile.

“But that’s still not an excuse for how she hurt me. And Iwa-chan,” Oikawa added sternly, serious as a grave, letting the hurt from years ago fill his voice.

“I know,” his father responded with matching graveness.

“Good.”

Another silence fell in the room and Oikawa itched to leave.

“I hope it’s not too horrible that I’m here.”

Oikawa’s racing thoughts to leave the conversation were cut short and he looked at his father with open curiosity. It was rare for his father to sound so unguarded.

“But you see, I worry about you. You’re the youngest, and I haven’t heard of you for a long time.”

“I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“I’m not asking you to,” his father said patiently. “But I would like to know what goes on in your life. Are you working? What kind of work are you looking into? Are you thinking of moving somewhere after your job?”

“Dad –“

“What about your friends? Are you and Hajime still together? I’d hate to assume things, but since you’re not living with him –“

“No, we broke up,” Oikawa interrupted.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “Are you really?”

“You were happy with him, weren’t you?”

Oikawa looked down, unable to deal with how considerate his father was trying to be. He wasn’t used to getting it from his father. It had been a decade since they’d had a genuine talk like this.

“I was,” he admitted quietly, scratching the back of his hand in his uncomfortableness. “But I’m happier now.”

His father’s face broke with a proud smile. “You look happy.”

 

 

...

 

 

In the present again, Oikawa kept going through the party via the many, many, _many_ photos Suga had taken, storyboarding the events practically second by second, scene by scene.

“What did you talk about with my dad?” Oikawa questioned. Just as little as he’d told Suga of what he’d talked about with his father, Suga had maybe said even less. Oikawa couldn’t shake off the feeling that Suga had been left a little perturbed by his father’s presence and surprise arrival.

“Nothing much,” Suga replied with a shrug Oikawa felt against his arm as Suga’ shoulder moved up and down in a small motion.

“About your dad?” Oikawa asked carefully, confident that he was actually guessing correctly.

“Among other things.”

Oikawa looked at Suga, whose face was hidden behind his overgrown bangs. As much Oikawa absolutely adored how his hair covered his eyes and got tangled in his eyelashes, he sometimes cursed how hard it made it for him to read Suga’s expressions.

“Like what?” he asked, his voice as innocently curious as it was ever possible in a situation that they were in. He knew that they weren’t hiding anything major from each other, they weren’t keeping deep secrets from each other. And as much as he wanted for Suga to keep what he’d spoken about with his father to himself, he needed to know too.

“Well,” Suga elongated and ended with a sigh. He shifted in his seat, turning to face Oikawa, his side now leaned to the back of the couch instead of Oikawa’s side. “I don’t think that you needed to bother with tagging on the title ‘roommate’ when you introduced me. I think he guessed that we were more than just that.”

“Oh,” Oikawa breathed and he dropped his eyes from Suga to the laptop screen, to the photo of Oikawa conversing in the living room with his father, both of them with tentative smiles on their faces.

 

 

...

 

 

Roughly eighteen hours ago, Suga peeked into his room, where he had left Oikawa with his father only a short moment ago.

“Hey,” he spoke softly from the doorway as he noticed how even the small amount of time had been enough to turn the atmosphere awkward inside the room, the air between Oikawa and his father simmering with things left unsaid and uasked. “It’s time to cut the cake.”

“Coming,” Oikawa replied instantly and left the room without another look back.

Suga wanted to follow after him, to offer support and comfort, but stayed where he was by the door when Oikawa’s father called for him.

“Koushi.”

“You can call me Suga,” Suga replied pleasantly with a kind smile. He wasn’t used to people calling him by his first name, anyone other than his mother, and occasionally by Oikawa whenever he decided to tease him and say it like his mother would.

“That’s what I called your father.”

Suga widened his soft smile for a second, to indicate he was pleased to learn this, to hide his surprise, but it melted away quickly when Oikawa’s father continued with a worried frown between his eyebrows, so similar to his son’s.

“Tooru said he quit volleyball. Do you know why?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Suga asked carefully, taking a step inside the room, stuffing his hands into his pants’ pockets to keep them from twitching with his nerves. Oikawa’s father shook his head. “Then I don’t think I should tell you.”

“Oh, I understand.”

Suga’s smile grew kind as he registered the disappointment. “Would you like a piece of cake as well?” he offered kindly, gesturing towards the common area, the kitchen and living room where joyous sounds of people enjoying the party and each other’s company could be heard.

“Yes, thank you.”

In the kitchen, where Oikawa was standing next to the cake, being pampered and fussed over by Akiko, the atmosphere was warm and soft, joyous as a graduation party, or any kind of party, should feel like. 

“Your mother seems fond of my son,” Oikawa’s father said as he stopped next to him by the hallway entrance.

“She’s fond of all of my friends.” Suga replied, looking on to the heartwarming sight of Oikawa laughing with Akiko when she tried to force a flower crown on his head.

“But would she come to celebrate any of your other friends’ graduation?”

“She has.”

“Oh.”

“I feel like you were asking something different with your question.” Suga turned a little to look at the tall man next to him.

“Tooru mentioned that you... Share an interest,” he finished meaningfully after a pause.

Suga’s smile was amused and he resisted the chuckle as he knew exactly what Oikawa’s father was referring to. “I’m sure that’s not how he phrased it.”

“No, no he didn’t.”

Suga turned back towards the kitchen and reached for the camera he had left on the shelf earlier, looking at Oikawa with a soft smile. “I care about him,” he decided to say. If Oikawa wanted his father to know they were in a relationship, Suga trusted that Oikawa would be the one to tell. But as he was currently only ‘a roommate’, he really didn’t think it was his place to tell Oikawa’s father otherwise.

“That’s good,” the man said resolutely, sounding a little relieved. “We tried to raise him a good man.”

“He is,” Suga assured softly. “Do you mind if I...?” He raised the hand holding his camera and gestured towards the kitchen where Oikawa was ready to cut the cake.

“Of course not, go ahead.”

Suga made a motion between a nod and a bow, and left Oikawa’s father alone to stand by the hallway as he went to the kitchen, ready to paparazzi his ‘secret’ boyfriend a little more.

He only wished he had a proper video camera to capture Hinata’s astonished words.

“This is so weird,” he said in a hushed awe. “There are actual adults in here.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Okay, these pictures never end,” Oikawa groaned with astonishment.

Suga snickered lightly next to him, more focused on watching Oikawa than the photos. “I needed a distraction from the overwhelming thoughts, and looking through my camera always helps,” he replied more seriously as his snickers died away.

Oikawa turned his head to look at him with fondness. “Overwhelmed by what?” he asked softly, his finger moving Suga’s hair off of his forehead and revealing his eyes, his hand then ended up on his cheek.

“A lot of things,” Suga answered truthfully, letting some of the weariness into his voice.

“My father? Terushima? Our fight?” Oikawa shot a surreptitious look towards the kitchen, to the three that weren’t as inconspicuous with their eavesdropping as they probably thought they were, and when he turned back, he lowered his voice. “The lack of sex?”

Suga shook his head a little and leaned forward to give Oikawa a quick kiss. “All of it.”

 

 

...

 

 

Suga was making the effort for Oikawa. His boyfriend. Who, at that very moment, wasn’t his boyfriend.

_“Suga-chan, can I talk to you quickly?” Oikawa had whispered, already pulling Suga by his arm out the apartment door to the staircase, where they could talk without interruptions or extra ears._

_“Are you okay?” Suga asked with slight alarm when they stopped and Oikawa turned to look at him with a smile._

_A grimace, not a smile, a grimace._

_“Can, um...” Oikawa took a deep breath, and Suga waited for him to find the words he needed in order to say whatever it was what he needed to._

_He wasn’t extremely confident that what he’d hear would be all that pleasant, but he waited, resisting the desire to reach out a comforting hand to Oikawa._

_“Is it okay, if, while my dad is here, you’re not my boyfriend?”_

_Suga was speechless for a second, blinking as he saw nothing but the button on Oikawa’s suit, hyperfocusing on it as he tried to reboot his brain. But somehow, at a remarkable speed, he got over it as he realized he had expected this. There was a small part in him that had anticipated this. He was horrified with himself to realize a small part of him had anticipated this._

_“Sure,” he shook his head to reassure Oikawa that he wasn’t upset._

_“Thank you,” Oikawa breathed with relief, grabbing Suga’s face to bring him into a quick kiss, and let him go. “I’ll make it up to you.”_

_“Mm-hm,” Suga hummed in acknowledgement of how much Oikawa owed him for this, pressing his lips into a tight line to hold his words back._

_Apparently, he wasn’t allowed to keep their relationship from his mother because Oikawa didn’t want to hide it in their own home, even though Suga hadn’t wanted that either. But now Oikawa was asking him to keep their relationship hidden from his father, in their home._

_Sure, their situations were different – his mother was more than okay and happy for them, practically giddy for them, while Oikawa’s father was known to them all as a little bit homophobic._

_But still, Suga was a little resentful._

_And just generally wanted to be alone and at the same time wishing that he wouldn’t be left alone._

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Did you tell Daichi about that?”

Suga nodded.

“That explains why Iwa-chan so rudely woke me up,” Oikawa said, mumbling a little, as if he only said it to himself as the realization must come to him. “Why he thought you’d be mad at me,” he grumbled with a pout.

Suga smiled, secretly delighted that someone had noticed it and made Oikawa suffer for his inconsideration.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga had separated himself from everyone as the party had progressed, as the cake and other delicacies had been devoured and moaned about, as the champagne and coffee had been drank, after Oikawa’s father had left, immediately causing the atmosphere to release from the lingering imperceptive tension, which had only been noticed once the man had left.

“I’m sorry but,” Daichi started with feigned apprehension when he sat next to Suga on the back of a couch, “who invited the paparazzi?”

“Shut up. I’m proud,” Suga replied, snapping away with his camera more and more photos of Oikawa, who was currently in the kitchen, talking with Kuroo and Iwaizumi over the remainders of the cake. “Let me be proud,” he added as he lowered his camera for a second to actually talk to Daichi.

“Fine, be proud,” Daichi said with a gentle smile that turned into a concerned frown when their eyes met. “But are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Suga replied, maybe a little too quickly to be believable.

“Uh-huh,” Daichi nodded with a thoughtful, doubtful look. “What’s up?”

Suga took a deep breath as he watched Oikawa have fun with Kuroo and Bokuto, the two teasing the former for something, Iwaizumi silently laughing next to them. “I, as of this moment, don’t have a boyfriend.”

“What?” Daichi sounded confused and Suga moved his gaze from the frolicking trio to his best friend.

“Tooru asked me if it would be okay that I wasn’t his boyfriend while his father is here.”

Daichi looked serious, as if he was plotting a murder, something dark in his eyes. “Do you mind if I go and slap him?”

“I wanted to slap him,” Suga admitted. “But I also get why he asked me that.” It also hurt to think that Oikawa would ask him to cease being his boyfriend. It hurt, so much. He loved Oikawa so much, and right now, it kind of felt like they’d just broken up, no matter how brief and pretend that break up was, how they probably were ‘back together’ now that Oikawa’s father was gone.

“Yeah, but, still.” Daichi was quiet for a while and Suga snapped more pictures as Kenma was pulled into the teasing too. “That’s really shitty of him.”

Suga sighed, lowering his camera, the earlier sting still in his heart. “Yeah.”

They were both quiet then, both of them watching the situation folding in the kitchen as more and more people got involved, and more and more whipped cream and frosting was spread around as they started to decorate one another’s faces with the stuff, creating different styles of war paint on their cheeks and mustaches over their top lips.

“How are you and Iwaizumi?” Suga broke their silent spell when the man went to scold the wild bunch with a stern face as he was threatened with a can of whipped cream held over his head in a position that it would be easy to squirt some on him. Suga needed a distraction from his “situation” with Oikawa.

“We’re good,” Daichi answered sagely. “We were just keeping our distance to hide our relationship from Oikawa’s father. We’re not sure of what he might tell his wife, who then might tell it to Hajime’s parents, so...”

Suga nodded along, understanding the situation, and feeling sympathetic for it.

“I’m going to ask my mom to stay here for tonight.”

“What? Why?” Daichi whipped his head around quickly to look at him.

“I have a feeling you and Iwaizumi could do with a night for just you two after today,” Suga replied with a small smile, genuinely meaning every word.

A relieved, grateful looking smile spread on Daichi’s lips. “Thanks.”

Suga widened his soft smile for a moment, and returned his focus to the situation that developed into something that the greatest memories were made of, Bokuto now sporting an impressive – impressive because it held on – beard dangling from his chin and white “bushy” eyebrows, his tongue peeking out now and then as he tried to get to his mustache that had started to slide down.

Suga hated being on the outside just watching in, he wanted to be a part of the fun and silliness. But he felt weighed down to stay where he was, unable to move towards the laughter.

“But weren’t you looking forward to a night alone with Oikawa?”

“I was,” Suga confirmed with a sigh. He had already said goodbye to those plans when Oikawa had pulled him aside to ask if they could just be roommates while his father was there.  He looked down to his hand as he twirled the strap of his camera. “I just don’t really feel like that right now.”

Another beat of silence followed Suga’s admission, but it did nothing to perturb or lessen the sounds of joy and laughter growing louder in the apartment.

“Are you two okay?” Daichi asked with concern practically dripping from his voice.

“Honestly,” Suga paused to sigh again. He had been doing that a lot lately, he knew. “I have no idea.”

He felt like they had been jumping from fight to another ever since they told everyone of their relationship. He sincerely and with all of his heart hoped that it would pass once everything got settled, when they got back to the order of everyday things.

Daichi pulled him to a side hug, and made a big smooching kiss on the top of Suga’s head, causing him to laugh a little in the tight squeeze of Daichi’s arms.

“You’ll be okay,” Daichi said with assurance, swaying Suga a little from side to side, squeezing him tight.

“I really hope so,” Suga agreed as he reveled in the physical contact and affection, and Daichi let go of him, leaving a warm comforting hand on Suga’s shoulder.

“You know, three years ago you never would have done that,” Suga said with a smile, referencing to Daichi’s sudden display of affection.

“I know,” Daichi chuckled. “But you’re my best friend and I love you and you needed comforting.”

“Hmm,” Suga hummed in agreement and in thought. “And how many glasses of champagne gave you the courage to say that?” he teased with a soft mischievous grin.

Daichi laughed, shaking his head a little. “Maybe one too many,” he admitted like he wasn’t too concerned about it.

Suga watched him with a faint strain of envy. He wanted to feel good too, and laugh a real laugh that he could feel in his gut, to smile widely and join everyone with their fun.

“Since Akiko-san isn’t going to stay with us, and won’t be preparing her famous breakfasts to us tomorrow morning, we’ll probably come here for that,” Daichi stated when his laughter died away but the smile still remained on his lips and in his eyes.

“You’re always welcome here,” Suga replied with a smile, glad that he had a best friend like Daichi.

Daichi nodded, his hand absently petting Suga’s shoulder.

Suga sneaked a quick photo of Hinata stood on the island, his hands in the air and wielding the can of whipped cream like a sword.

“You know, Oikawa and I had a quite pleasant conversation the other day. He was worried about your fight about Terushima, of you wanting to be friends with him.”

Suga was surprised by Daichi’s word. “Oh, he told you about that.” Suga tried to hide his surprised and a little embarrassed expression behind his camera as he noticed his mother stand a little ways a way, watching with a fond smile the fun unfold in the kitchen. He zoomed in to capture the emotion, the moment.

“He did. I told him that you’re going to do what you want to do.”

“We already settled that fight,” Suga spoke hiding behind his camera as he immortalized the epic battle of frosting thrown around in the kitchen. “And I don’t think I’m going to be friends with Terushima anymore.”

“How come?” Daichi sounded positively perplexed. “It sounded like you were pretty adamant about remaining friends.”

Suga lowered his camera, and slowly moved his gaze to Daichi. “I don’t think it’s just Tooru who has a problem with me being friends with Yuuji,” he stated softly.

“What do you mean?”

“Kuroo mentioned his dislike, and you didn’t seem fond of the idea of me hanging with Terushima either, based on your expression when you mentioned it.”

Daichi let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not going to lie. I don’t really like him.”

“You’re only basing your opinion of him on why he broke up with me. He’s a good guy. I know him,” Suga said as he once again raised his camera to snap another photo, this time of Kenma on Kuroo’s shoulders, disinterested in the events unfolding and with his focus on his handheld console, while Bokuto had Hinata on his shoulders, shouting “En garde”.

“Suga, you didn’t introduce him to your mother,” Daichi said in a hushed voice. “There must’ve been a reason for that.”

Suga shook his head. “It’s not what you think. I just...” He paused to search the right words, the correct words that fit the best to describe how he felt. He put his camera down  when he found them, and turned fully to Daichi.

“I liked that my relationship with Yuuji, that our relationship was just between the two of us, aside from some teasing from Kuroo and others,” he said in a hush, speaking a little slower than usual, realizing that he was still finding the words. “I liked that not that many people were involved, you included. You’ve seen my mom with Tooru. She’s already so involved. Don’t get me wrong. I love her and I’m so grateful that she accepts me, accepts all of us. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d already imparted some relationship advice to Tooru when they went out to buy his suit.”

Daichi listened on with a grave expression, as if he was soaking in the words and giving them the importance that Suga tried to impart them in, until Suga mentioned the suit and his expression opened with a delighter smile as he chuckled.

“Oh, yeah, the suit. Did Akiko choose it?”

Suga joined in the chuckles, but lighter and less heartfelt. “I don’t think so,” he stated, and then sighed as he gazed at Oikawa egging on the frosting and whipped cream fight.

“You’re so in love with him.”

Daichi’s voice broke through Suga’s endeared thoughts.

“I know you loved others as well, but you didn’t show it the way you do with Oikawa. It’s out there for everyone to see all the time.”

Suga fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves with a small smile playing on his lips. “I guess I’m more confident with him.”

“I think it’s more than just that. You would’ve never taken Terushima or Akaashi with you to Ikea when you were dating. Admit it.”

“Ok, yeah, that’s true.” Suga smiled wider.

“You’re happy with him.”

Suga noted the lack of question in Daichi’s voice, and could only nod as he smiled, thinking that ultimately, usually, he was happy with Oikawa.

And their small fights only meant that they were both ready to fight _for_ them, for their relationship.

“You mean a great deal to him too,” Daichi stated, his voice colored with his fond smile. “It was evident when he came to me for advice.”

Suga hummed softly, agreeing with him.

“You’re the reason he grew his hair long.”

Suga laughed from the surprise of the statement. “That isn’t true.”

“Hajime is convinced that it is,” Daichi nodded seriously with a grin. “You commented once that you liked his slightly longer hair, and he didn’t cut it for months after that, you played with his hair and pulled it to a ponytail and he swore of scissors for the rest of his life.”

Suga kept laughing at the absurd idea that he had anything to do with the length of Oikawa’s hair, although there was an echo of the truth of Daichi’s words inside him.

“I bet, if you made a comment of liking his original shorter hair, he’d cut it like that.”

“But I don’t want him to cut it,” Suga admitted bashfully.

Daichi laughed, and once he sobered from it, said, “Promise to fix everything with Oikawa. I like to see you happy.”

“I will,” Suga nodded resolutely.

 

 

...

 

 

“Who took this one?” Oikawa asked, the image of him and Suga standing near each other by the hallway, looking at each other with more than words could describe, everything in just the way they looked at each other.

No wonder Oikawa’s father had been able to pick up on it.

“I’m not sure,” Suga replied slowly, turning the laptop in Oikawa’s lap towards him to see the photo better. “I do remember when this was taken, though.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Right before you asked me to just be your roommate.”

Oikawa sighed and dropped his head down on Suga’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for that.”

“I know.” Suga patted his head. “You keep apologizing when I’ve already forgiven you.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Hey,” Oikawa whispered into Suga’s ear from behind, startling him a little, causing him to spill some of the soda he was drinking.

“Hey,” Suga still turned around on the couch with a small smile, to face the back of the couch, to see him. “How are you doing?”

Oikawa could tell that Suga was making a conscious effort not to touch him, and it killed him inside a little bit, knowing that he was the cause of it. He knew that Suga would’ve run his hand down his arm in a comforting gesture, maybe tucked some of his hair behind his ear with a soft touch of fingertips sliding on his cheek, maybe hold his hand and intertwine their fingers. But he had asked, and Suga had agreed, and now they kept their relationship a secret from his father.

After what his parents had said to him when he’d made out with Iwaizumi in front of them, years ago, he was apprehensive of how his father would react if he’d see him and Suga do what they’d normally do, even though his father seemed to be over his bout of homophobia now.

Guess some wounds don’t heal, ever.

“I’m really, really good,” Oikawa grinned, leaning a little closer to Suga, tipping in to keep whispering as if they were trading secrets. “Thank you for doing this.”

“You’ll have to thank my mom. This was her idea.” Suga leaned his crossed arms on top of the back of the couch.

Oikawa hummed, his good feeling amplified by the number of glasses of champagne he’d been offered, accepting them only to empty them. He might’ve been overdoing the drinking because of his nerves about his father being there, but right now, he was feeling content rather than anxious, except for that little thing regarding hiding his and Suga’s relationship.

“I know that this was originally your idea,” he said to Suga, still whispering softly, leaning his hands on the spread of the back of the couch, engaging Suga face on and only a breath apart.

Suga’s gentle smile turned softer somehow. “But mom planned this all. She made this happen.”

“But only because you suggested it,” Oikawa grinned, the tip of his nose brushing on Suga’s.

Suga chuckled softly, mimicking his action.

“This really is amazing,” Oikawa exhaled as he leaned back a little, looking around in the brightly but modestly decorated apartment, watching his friends mingle and have fun, eat cake and play around as always, studying the distance between Daichi and Iwaizumi and wondering if he should be worried about it. He knew why the distance was there – it was because of his father.

“Thank you,” he said absentmindedly, preoccupied by his concern for his best friend.

“They’re fine.”

Oikawa looked at Suga, and realized that Suga had been watching him while he was busy looking everywhere but at Suga. Of course Suga would figure out his expression and wandering gaze fixated on their best friends.

“I just spoke to Daichi, and he said that they’re a little terrified of appearing boyfriendish in front of your father so they were keeping their distance from one another. He said it was a mutual decision, so, don’t worry.”

Oikawa pouted a little as he soaked in Suga’s words. “I shouldn’t have asked you to only be my roommate today.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Suga agreed, his voice disapproving, as he turned on the couch again.

“You’re mad at me for that,” Oikawa stated as he regretted the small distance Suga created between them.

Suga shook his head a little and met his eyes with a gentle smile that surprised Oikawa – he hadn’t expected to see it on Suga’s lips, on those beautiful red lips that he really wanted to kiss right that second.

“I’m not,” Suga said, halting Oikawa’s thoughts on kissing him. “Let’s just forget about it. Your father isn’t going to stay here forever.”

Oikawa was comforted by Suga’s tone of reassurance and he stepped over the back of the couch to sit next to him, leaning his shoulder against Suga’s, slouching a little to accomplish the gesture. Suga was right, his father wasn’t going to stay forever, but they would, together.

A blanket of warm silence wrapped them in a comforting embrace as they settled in the living room, watching their friends, their _family,_ enjoy the mild party – no one dared to go crazy with the adult “supervision”, although Oikawa was certain that Akiko had instigated at least two of the competitions which had resulted in painful brain freezes and burning tongues, different occasions of course. But he wouldn’t put it past her to come up with something that would simultaneously be the cause of the two.

With a sharp inhale Oikawa straightened from his slouch, but remained glued to Suga’s side. “Who knew our fathers knew each other?” he asked with astonishment, the thought coming to him all of a sudden, after hours of wondering on the unexpected revelation.

Suga chuckled lightly, shaking his head faintly as he lowered his head to look at the floor, his toes reaching for the coffee table, playing with the edge of it. “I really didn’t expect that.”

“Me neither. What a weird coincidence.”

“I’ve actively tried not to think about it, because... I mean,” Suga huffed, leaning away from Oikawa to fully look at him. “What are the chances?”

“I know,” Oikawa laughed. It was almost too absurd, but also at the same time _normal_ that their fathers had been good friends ever since first grade at school. And that little tidbit of new information and the alcohol he had consumed caused his head to spin a bit too much for him to think straight anymore.

 

 

...

 

 

And now, after making the full circle and reaching the last of the photos, one Suga had taken after the party when Oikawa had already fallen asleep, exhausted from the emotional day, he closed the laptop.

“What are you going to do with all the photos? Just keep them on your laptop?”

“I was thinking of making an album,” Suga mused out loud. “Choose the best pics for that. But yes, I’ll keep all the photos in folder, on a flashdrive and on a cloud service.”

“He does that with all the photos he takes,” Daichi interjected. “Even the photos he has in his exhibits are compiled into portfolios.”

“I knew that,” Oikawa said with smug air, his hands reworking the small bun on top of his head, pulling Suga’s eyes to the movement, to his arms flexing and nimble fingers running through the hair. “How long till breakfast is ready?”

“Just a moment,” Akiko answered cheerily.

“I’ll go and take a shower now then,” Oikawa said decisively, getting up from the couch as he handed Suga’s laptop back to him. “Want to join me?” he leaned down to whisper into Suga’s ear, eliciting shivers.

Suga snickered lightly and faintly, definitely interested in showering with Oikawa, but knowing they couldn’t. “I wouldn’t fit.”

“One day, I’m going to make it happen,” Oikawa boasted, already leaned back and heading towards the hallway, walking backwards to keep grinning suggestively at Suga.

“Sure,” Suga chuckled, watching him walk away.

“Koushi,” his mother pulled him from his longing, and Suga moved his lingering look to her. She was hanging her upper body over the island with a gentle smile. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”

“You want ice cream? Now? In this weather?” Suga asked with faint disbelief, pointing to the window just in case his mother had missed the downpour turning the day gray, hiding the sun behind the clouds.

“After breakfast,” she nodded definitively. “I want ice cream and you don’t have any in your freezer.”

“Someone ate it all last night,” Suga muttered as he placed his laptop on the coffee table and got up, thinking back and recalling how Kuroo had egged Bokuto on to finish the chocolate ice cream they’d had in the freezer – a stunt that had inevitably resulted in a brain freeze for Bokuto and a debt for Kuroo to buy more ice cream for their freezer. The originator of the whole deal of course his mother, who else.

“I’d like to have a moment with my son,” she clarified. “I think we need to talk.”

Suga looked at his mother, studied her expression, noted the care and patience. “Okay,” he nodded, speaking slowly, as slowly as he approached kitchen, as if he was processing the request and wondering on the reason behind it. “Is there something you want to talk about without Tooru hearing about it?”

“No,” she replied calmly. “But I think you do.”

Suga was quiet for a moment, but decided it best not to comment on it now. Not in front of witnesses, not in front of Oikawa’s best friend. “I’m paying for the ice cream,” he said with a soft grin.

“Try as much as you’d like,” his mother flapped her hand, practically declining his offer as she straightened away from the island.

“Are we to interpret this as an un-invitation for us to join you?” Daichi asked, his tone of voice joking, as he went to sit where he has, presumably, left his unfinished cup of coffee.

“Yes, this is just for a mother and her son,” Akiko replied blithely. “But if you want me to treat you to ice cream, we can go tomorrow.”

“I thought you left tomorrow?” Iwaizumi asked as he divided the food evenly on five plates.

“Not until Monday,” Akiko answered with a shake of her head.

“Suga actually agreed to put you up for that long?” Daichi kept joking.

Suga sat on a chair next to him, chuckling.

“Well, he did try to pawn me off to you to,” Akiko replied, her smile softening her glaring eyes, her withering look much more amusing that way as she pointed it to Suga.

“We honestly would be honored to have you,” Iwaizumi said in a way that suggested nothing else than how serious he was and how genuinely he meant it.

“I know,” Akiko smiled at him, moving to pour more tea for herself, and bringing down another cup from the cupboard. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Don’t believe her,” Suga warned. “She says that to everyone.”

“That’s because they’re all my favorites,” Akiko protested, slapping her son’s shoulder. “Here, drink your tea.” Her tone suggesting for Suga to shut up and stop blabbering.

Suga chuckled in response, but was sincere as he thanked her. He accepted the cup with a grateful smile, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic and enjoying the fruity smell the hot liquid wafted into the air.

“But you’re still my ultimate favorite,” she reached over then and squeezed his cheeks affectionately between her hands, talking in baby talk, knowing fully-well how much Suga disliked it when she did so.

“That’s just because of the genes we share,” Suga replied, his speech marred with his cheeks pushed flat and his lips pursed. “I’m pretty sure, that if we were all just some random kids you’d adopted of the streets, you’d favor Tooru over everyone else.”

“Well of course I would,” Akiko stated with a good-natured laugh, the sound of it adding lightness into the air surrounding them, and she let go of him. “After all, he is the baby daddy of my future grandchildren.”

Suga’s eyes shot up wide enough to be classified as saucers, while Daichi and Iwaizumi snorted and doubled over in laughter, presumably from witnessing his expression.

“We’ve been dating barely two months!” Suga said indignantly, horrified that his mother was already dreaming of grandchildren that Suga himself wasn’t sure he even wanted. He didn’t even know Oikawa’s opinion about kids, or if he ever wanted to have them.

Suga had had the inkling that it would be a bad idea to let his mother know about them dating – the very reason for dragging on telling her for so long – even though he had wanted to tell her how he was happy in a relationship, had wanted for her to see it...

And now here he was, proven right about his foreboding thoughts about his mother and her ideas for his and their future, racing forward at a breakneck speed.

“You know I only tease,” she laughed with Daichi and Iwaizumi. “And you know how I like to say things out loud to make them become a reality,” she added with a mischievous smile and a glint in her eyes. “Just two days ago I was joking that Tooru would be your boyfriend, and the very same day it became true.”

“We were already dating when you made that joke,” Suga sighed, desperate for his mother to stop before Oikawa returned from the shower. He was not in a place to think about so far into their future that they’d discuss possible children. He liked how things were now, as scary as they already were, and he didn’t need to add another level of panic and fear into the mix. Level ten was enough, he didn’t need it to go up to twelve.

Akiko seemed to take pity of him when he sighed, her mischief slowly shifting into gentle smile and caring hands placed on his shoulders.

“Calm down, honey,” she said calmly. “I’m only teasing. I know you’re not in a place to think about children. And we can talk over ice cream about the reason why you worked yourself so quickly into hyperventilating just from the mere idea of them thrown into the air.”

Suga nodded, taking a deep breath and replacing his sudden anxiety to focus on his cup of tea, wondering whether it was already too cold to enjoy. He didn’t pay attention to the whispers of the other three in front of him, preferring to let the quiet murmurs wash over him as he collected himself.

 

 

...

 

 

“I get why you were worried now,” Daichi whispered when Akiko let go of Suga.

“You noticed it?” she asked, her tone hinting at worry as she kept watching her son take a deep breath.

“Yeah, now that you’ve mentioned it,” Daichi nodded.

“Is Suga okay?” Iwaizumi added his worry into the mix, eyeing Suga with concern as well. “I’ve never seen him freak out like that.”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Akiko said confidently while she kept petting his shoulders and arms to encourage for him to calm down, fondness filling her as she noticed how Suga was mind-melting with the cup of tea. “I just think he needs to vent and talk things through instead of just thinking about them all on his own.”

“He mentioned to me that he was scared of where he and Oikawa were as a couple so quickly after they got together,” Daichi informed Akiko. “In case that would help your conversation.”

“Thank you,” she smiled gratefully at him.  “He’ll be okay,” she added as an afterthought, once again speaking things into existence, to become a reality, now really meaning it instead of just teasing with it. She was confident in her own son. He’d pulled through so much already in his short life. She knew how strong and able he was, how his qualities and personality were strengths.

She knew in her heart and soul, with absolute certainty, that he only needed to be able to talk about everything without the fear of any of it traveling to ears that really weren’t allowed to hear what he’d say. Not because he would be rude or inconsiderate or disrespectful, but also exactly because he was afraid to come out seeming like that if someone would come to find out what he’d said.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter was rewritten six times)
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff
> 
> (It's about time to lay off all the angst, I think)


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your daily dose of fluff <3

 

 

”So, what is going on?” Suga’s mother asked when she sat across from him in the little booth. She looked patient, and more than anything she sounded worried.

Suga recognized how she was trying to be careful of how she approaching the conversation they were about to have, and he was just a little bit apprehensive, not knowing exactly what she wanted to talk about.

“With what?” he asked. There were myriad things going on, multiple of which he kind of wanted to talk about to someone, to have a sounding board to bounce things from to have another angle and opinion maybe. But there were things that he wasn’t so ready to talk about with her, things that he wasn’t sure if his mother knew of, and figured it best to be safe and ask.

“Inside that head of yours?” she ‘specified’, causing Suga to want to roll his eyes with exasperation because she wasn’t any clearer with that as she lightly tapped him on his forehead with her finger. “You keep thinking a lot and I’m worried about whatever it is that’s made you so thoughtful. You haven’t been like this since you told me you weren’t going to pursue a career after university.”

Suga dropped his gaze to his ice cream on the table in front of him, mind-melting with it, as if it could give him the first words to start to describe what was going on, dropping and lifting the spoon out of the ball on mint ice cream, leaving little dents on it with every drop.

“It’s nothing to worry about really,” he ended up saying, downplaying his very words.

“Koushi, darling.”

Suga looked up at her soft words and saw her smiling at him encouragingly. “We can talk about anything, that hasn’t changed. You can talk freely to me, you know that.”

Suga dropped his eyes back down as he softly sighed and made up his mind to just bite the bullet. He knew he wouldn’t be judged by his mother, no matter what he’d say.

He took a deep breath, and started. “I love him.”

“Which one?” his mother jumped to ask before he had the chance to continue as he had planned, her question interrupting his train of thought as he was surprised, his mouth hanging open for a short moment with the words on his tongue but never leaving his lips.

He had to take another moment to process her question, his mouth closing with a quiet snap, wondering what could have prompted her to ask that.

“Tooru, of course,” he replied, stunned and a little offended that she would think there was anyone else. “Who else?”

“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging with one shoulder. “An ex-boyfriend, perhaps,” she mused, licking the spoon she had been eating her ice cream with.

Her tone of musing was a little too knowing, her ignorance and deliberation a little too put on to seem genuine to him. He knew his mother, just like she most likely knew him, and he _knew._

“Which one?” Suga asked in turn. Deep in his gut he had that knowing feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

“The one I never met,” she replied, shrugging again, as if that had any effect to make her reply casual at all. “Terushima Yuuji.”

Suga didn’t say anything, waiting for his mother to add on, to finish the large spoonful of ice cream, a real mountain of the cold sweetness, she just put in her mouth, like she wasn’t scared of a brain freeze.

“He still loves you. I thought it might be possible that you felt the same way and that was why you’ve been so pensive,” she did continue, brain freeze –less, and Suga suddenly wished that she hadn’t.

It seemed that Terushima’s name was popping up all the time, and not in the best light.

Suga was speechless, and he was sure that his worry and shock were intermixed in his expression, clear as a day for her to see.

“Did you get a brain freeze?” his mother asked with genuine sounding concern when she must’ve noticed that he was struggling to gather his thoughts to make sense enough of them to say anything.

And Suga realized he hadn’t had a single taste of his ice cream yet.

But he couldn’t move to do so and appear normal. Had Kuroo been right? Was Terushima only hanging with him because he still loved him?

Suga had thought about it time and time and time again and again and again, and every time that he thought of the possibility of Kuroo being right, he desperately wanted him to be wrong and tried to think of other reasons why Terushima would want to be his friend.

“How do you know that?” he asked with a worried frown, his eyebrows tilted up at the middle of his brow, as he pushed his ice cream away.

“What?” she looked up from her portion, a spoon scraping the last in the dish.

“That he still loves me?” Suga clarified in whisper. He couldn’t say it out loud, not fully. He really _couldn’t._ It would be too close to admitting that it was true. And it couldn’t be true. _It just couldn’t._

“Oh,” his mother seemed to catch on again. “I heard Tooru talk to him when we went to buy his suit.”

“And he said he still loves me?”

“Mm-hm,” she nodded with her soft hum, holding a steady eye contact with him, and discreetly licked her spoon clean before she dropped it in the empty dish. “You should eat your ice cream before it melts.”

Suga eyed at the dish he’d pushed away a little, but couldn’t bring it closer to actually eat it. “Do you think he still loves me?” he whispered again, unable to lift his eyes to look at his mother.

“What do _you_ think?” she shot the question back with all the care and gentleness in the world. “Do _you_ think he still loves you?”

Suga couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation with his mother.

“Yeah,” he breathed and reached out for his ice cream, taking a large scoop out of the half-melted icy sweetness and eating like he’d shoot back a shot, quick, as if it would make it hurt less.

“So do I,” his mother agreed, compassionate as always.

“Is it weird then that he wants to be friends with me?” Suga asked timidly. “Kuroo thinks that he seeks my friendship because he loves me, like he’s trying to win me back that way.”

“Is that why you and Tetsurou had a fight?”

Suga scooped more ice cream, nodding. Of course she’d caught onto that too.

She inhaled long and deep as she must’ve thought. “It does complicate things,” she answered to his question sagely after a pause. “But it’s not weird,” she shook her head.

Suga nodded along, easily falling back into his own thoughts. It was quicker to think than it was to say the words out loud to theorize. He believed her, that it wasn’t weird, but that the fact that Terushima was still in love with him did complicate things.

“It does happen sometimes,” she cut in in middle of his quiet contemplation. “When a couple breaks up amicably it’s possible for them to remain friends, even if there are lingering feelings. _Especially_ if there are feelings left,” she amended her statement.

“But what if the break up wasn’t amicable? What if it took me a long time to get over him? I don’t love him anymore.”

“But you did love him?” his mother interrupted, suddenly curious.

Suga decided to sidestep her question. As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of things and was ready to discuss everything with her, he wasn’t about to dive into his past devoted feelings for Terushima. He knew he wasn’t in love with Terushima anymore, and that was enough for him.

“I don’t think I can be friends with him if he still loves me. I couldn’t help but think that I’m hurting him in some way by only being friends, knowing that he loves me.”

She smiled at him sympathetically, apparently catching onto his unwillingness to talk about his past love. “Did you approach him after the break up? Whose idea was it to be friends?”

“It was both of us, really,” Suga answered slowly, realizing it simultaneously. It had been him who had walked into Terushima’s café, and it had been Terushima who had asked if he had time to catch up over a cup of coffee, or tea.

His mother hummed, her fingers idly scratching her arm. “Can I ask you something that you haven’t divulged anything to me about, since I didn’t really know he existed before you’d already broken up?”

“I guess,” Suga replied cautiously.

“Why did you break up?” she asked outright, unperturbed as she was on a hunt for something she’d longed to learn about for ages.

“He met someone else,” Suga revealed, sighing at the tail end of his answer.

“Are they together?” Akiko asked with an imperceptible frown, giving a hint of disapproval.

Suga nodded and finished his ice cream before he explained further, needing the chill on his tongue to be able to say the words without stuttering. He hadn’t realized it before now, but it still stung to think of what had happened.

“They got engaged a month or two after our break up,” he said, not missing the way her eyebrows raised a little at surprise and judgement. “I was really angry at him for that when I accidentally found out,” he told her to let her know that he hadn’t been happy about that particular development either, although now he was happy for the couple.

“Even though I’m not happy to learn that, since I know you were still hurting from the break up at the time, and I would advise you to be cautious about hanging with him as friends, my earlier statement remains the same,” Akiko spoke resolutely. “It’s not weird that he wants to be friends. But if you’re not ready to be his friend now that you know of his deeper feelings for you, you should remain true to yourself and do as you feel is the right thing to do.”

Suga was so immensely grateful to have her as his mother, well and truly thankful that he could talk to her about everything and anything.

“The right thing _for you,”_ she specified after a moment.

“I’m not sure what to do. Maybe time will tell,” Suga admitted a little sheepishly. He hated that he couldn’t make up his mind about Terushima. Once upon a time he had been ready to write the man off, and wouldn’t ever have dreamed to be friends with him again. But then he had been reminded that ultimately Terushima wasn’t a bad man, just easily led by his emotions.

“I have to admit, though,” Akiko interrupted Suga’s internal monologue. “As much as I want to hate him for hurting you, I have respect for him.”

At Suga’s questioning, and more than anything, confused expression, she continued.

“I overheard as Tooru spoke to him when we went to buy the suit. He sounded sincere when he said he was willing to step aside and not interfere in your relationship with Tooru despite his feelings for you. I think he knows that you love Tooru and he wanted to respect that.”

_Yeah,_ Suga thought with an internal sigh, _he’s a good guy, but I don’t think I’ll see that ever again._ Knowing that Terushima wasn’t about to tell him about his feelings, knowing that Terushima was ready to be just friends and that he’d accept that role made up Suga’s mind.

He smiled at his mother and reached his hand out over the table, taking her hand in his and squeezing it a little with his gratitude.

“Thank you,” he said from the bottom of his heart, his smile small but relieved. “It helped to talk about this.”

She smiled back at him, squeezing his hand back. “You don’t need to thank me. Just remember that whatever comes, I’m always here for you to listen and offer sympathy and ice cream, and interrupt you with questions you don’t want to answer.”

Suga chuckled lightly, the feel of it barely there as he let go of her, withdrawing his hand back to his side of the table. Because of course she’d caught onto that too.

“But,” his mother tilted her head to the side. “I think I need a cup of tea to thaw from the cold ice cream, especially in this weather.”

“Me too,” Suga agreed with a breath of relief at the thought of having something warm. “My turn to treat you.” He got up before his mother had a chance to refuse or counter his offer.

It didn’t take long for him to pay for the tea, and once back at the table, Akiko opened up another conversation.

“I have a feeling you were leading up to something when you said you love “him”,” she spoke casually, gently blowing into her cup of tea before she took a sip.

“I was,” Suga nodded, shifting in his seat, a little bit uncertain of this topic, but he had meant to talk about it. He took a deep breath, his form rising and then falling as he let the air out of his lungs, long and drawn out as he hesitated. But he figured that he had already told his mother a lot more than he’d originally thought, and it would be okay to tell her the rest as well. Besides, what use would it be to ask her advice if he didn’t provide all the information detrimental for the situation.

“To what?” she asked gently, her voice unbelievably kind. Suga couldn’t help but think that she was grateful that he’d opened up so much, and she revealed herself with her voice.

“I’m a little afraid,” Suga admitted, unable to look at his mother as he did.

“Of what, darling?” she asked gently, so caringly, so motherly, too quickly before Suga had had the chance to naturally continue.

So, the end of his sentence ended up more of a statement separated from everything. “Of being in love with Tooru.”

His mother didn’t say anything – maybe she could finally sense that he had more to say and waited for it, and she would’ve been right.

“Everyone else I’ve loved has fallen in love with someone else, met someone else that was perfect for them, practically their soulmate. And I couldn’t even be mad at them for that, because they seemed so perfect together.” Suga took a moment to take a breath, strengthening himself. “I’m just afraid that it will happen with Tooru as well.”

“I’m afraid as well, darling,” she said quietly. “But not because of why you’re afraid. I’m just afraid that there’s nothing you can do about the fear. You just have to take every day that you love him and feel what you’re feeling as long as you can. It’s a risk everyone has to take when they start to seriously date someone, when feelings get involved. You take the chance that this is the man that you’ll love for the rest of your life, and hope that they feel the same way about you. And you have to know, that even if that doesn’t happen, if something awful befalls and you two break up, or they have an accident and die, or fall ill and your time together is cut off, you have to know that you’ll be okay.”

“I just love him so much.”

“I know, honey.”

“I don’t want to lose him to someone else as well.”

“Trust that you won’t. Believe that you won’t.”

“But what if he does, even though I trusted and believed that I wouldn’t? I’d just lose my trust and belief as well.”

“Those are easy to build up again with some courage, something that I know you possess a lot of.”

Suga smiled softly, comforted by his mother’s unwavering belief in him.

“How come you never introduced any of your boyfriends to me before?”

“Interesting question,” Suga said sarcastically. “Way to jump into the deep end of the pool of things that make me _me.”_

“I’m just curious,” his mother giggled softly. “I never met any of them. And I think this Terushima person was the first one you actively hid from me, or very strategically left him unmentioned for months.”

Suga lowered his gaze to the cup of tea warming his hands. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, watching the wisps of steam rise and disappear into the air.

“I think you do know.”

“I really don’t.” Suga shook his head. “I’ve never thought about it, thought about why I never told you about them until it was too late to introduce you.”

“I think you do know,” his mother repeated patiently, her gaze gentle as she looked at him.

Suga sipped the tea, glad not to burn his tongue with it as he wondered. “I guess...” he started hesitantly. “I guess I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“Why would I be disappointed in you because of a person you’ve decided to date?” Akiko sounded as if she was genuinely baffled by such a notion.

“I don’t know,” Suga had to say again. “I guess I didn’t want you to judge me based on the person that I’ve decided to date.”

Akiko’s gentle smile widened with amusement. “That’s silly,” she laughed lightly. “I could never be disappointed in you. No matter what you did,” she stated. “And I would never judge you for anything.”

“Even if I killed someone?”

“I’m sure they deserved it.”

Suga smiled as well and drank more of the tea, confident now that it was the perfect temperature where it was still hot but not scoldingly so. “I would actually tell you if I did kill someone,” he mused out loud, tapping the rim of the cup with his index finger.

“Of course you would,” his mother replied, stating the obvious. “Who else would help you hide the body?”

“You don’t hide the body when you’ve murdered someone. The body could be found,” Suga said, thinking how utterly stupid it would be to _hide_ a body, even though he had asked his friends on numerous occasions to help him hide the bodies in various situations – but of course only to pin the murders on them and not on himself. “You put it through a wood chipper and gather the mulch and feed it to sharks.”

“Of course,” Akiko snickered. “And you obviously have this wood chipper and these sharks at an easy access?”

“In my ultra-secret secret lair designed specifically for my acts of pure evilness for my mission to take over the world and force everyone to play ‘the flight of the bumblebee’ every time they wanted to take a shower. The wood chipper is next to my big chair that I can swing around with a cat in my lap whenever someone comes to visit me so I can say the legendary line ‘I’ve been expecting you’, and the shark tank is just a decoration, because art is just too dull.”

“Dull?” Akiko raised her eyebrows with her question, her mouth in wide smile that seemed both proud and amused.

“Art doesn’t move.”  

“Ah, yes, very dull indeed,” she agreed with him with a gentle, fond smile. “I’m proud of you.” She countered her soft words with a flick at the little apple hair ponytail on top of his head.

“This is cute,” she giggled a little.

Suga smiled wider for a moment, pleased by her gushing and the unexpected praise at his hairstyle. “Thank you,” he responded politely.

“Did Tooru make it?”

“When I waited for you to be ready,” Suga answered and finished the last of his tea. Oikawa had appeared behind him, behind the chair Suga had sat in, ran his fingers through Suga’s hair without a word or explanation to what he was doing, and finished his ministrations of tender, caring touch by tying the small rubber band around a section of Suga’s hair, and left him alone again without a word again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Suga asked quietly, a little unnerved with the way his mother was watching him with a tilted head.

“You look so much like your father,” she replied just as quietly, reverently really. “You’re about his age when you were born.”

“I know,” Suga said with a gentle smile, a little melancholy all of a sudden at the mention of his father. “I’ve seen the pictures.”

Akiko chuckled lightly, her eyes shifting from one point of Suga’s face to another.

“Were you disappointed when I came out to you?” Suga asked hesitantly, unable to stop the question, as if he hadn’t even thought of it first. But something about mentioning his father, and knowing of the conversation his mother had had with Oikawa about him coming out must’ve clicked somewhere deep inside his brain for the question to exist. “That you wouldn’t have grandchildren?” he thought to specify, for he knew that his mother was definitely not disappointed that her son was gay. She liked to joke about having grandchildren one day, and Suga was a little worried that she was covering something with it, some deep longing to be a grandmother.

“Gods, no,” she replied with a breathless laugh, dissolving Suga’s worries, like snow melting away when it rained. “Taking care of one baby was enough for a lifetime, thank you very much,” she teased, causing Suga to laugh a little as well.

“I really wasn’t disappointed,” she answered more seriously then. “My son being gay was a far better option than anything else that you could’ve been.”

Suga frowned, asking without voicing his confusion.

“I’d hate to think that some other woman could make you feel loved.”

“Stop saying things like that!” Suga laughed. “People will think we have an unhealthy mother-son relationship.”

“I’m afraid that that ship has already sailed.”

Suga huffed and rolled his eyes.

“You know I only joke,” she chuckled again. “And I’m so proud of you for being who you are. I was so proud of you when you came out to me. Did I ever tell you this?”

Suga shook his head a little, stunned to silence by his mother’s words.

“You were so brave and strong. I was so incredibly proud that I could call you my son. I swear there are no words to describe how proud I felt. Prouder than when you spoke at your father’s funeral when I couldn’t, prouder than when you got your participation certificate from university, prouder than at any of your graduations.”

“You’re making me cry,” Suga revealed, feeling the rise of emotions in his throat and eyes, a sob fighting it’s way out but he persevered against it. In middle of a busy ice cream shop wasn’t the place to cry. No matter how good the ice cream was.

“Good,” his mother stated with a wavering smile of her own. “It means I’m doing something right.”

They shared a watery laugh as they tried to compose their emotional selves.

No one around them didn’t seem to pay any mind to their display, and they were quick to sober up from the welling of strong emotions.

“By the way,” his mother said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the tears gone and as if already forgotten about.

“Hm?” Suga asked, suddenly feeling light with his happiness and relief, his mind unbothered after a long time of too many heavy thoughts. Guess he needed to let out some of those worries that had been stressing him out.

“I think I prefer Tooru as a name for a future son in law over any other name.”

Suga dropped his chin and shook his head with a smile as he dug his ringing phone from his pocket. “Good to know.”

“Who is calling you?” his mother asked curiously, her eyes flitting from the device to Suga’s eyes.

“My agent,” Suga replied, his thumb hovering over the screen as he hesitated whether to answer it or not. “Do you mind if I answer?”

“Not at all,” Akiko smiled at him. “I’ll go and get us refills while you talk with him,” she offered and got up, while Suga brought his cell phone to his ear.

“Hello, Takeda-sensei...”

  
  


 

...

  


 

When Suga and his mother came back, Oikawa was lounging on the couch, a notebook left on his chest and an old volleyball game playing on the TV.

Suga made his way straight to him, lying down next to him and snuggling in close.

Oikawa chuckled at the sudden but in no means unwelcomed cuddling. “How was ice cream?” he asked, running his fingers gently through Suga’s hair while Suga buried his face into the crook of his neck, tickling him just a little with it.

“Delicious,” Suga mumbled against his skin, his hand sneakily finding its way under Oikawa’s shirt to rest on his waist.

“I bet,” Oikawa replied, shivering a little at the cold touch of Suga’s fingers. “Did you eat all of it? You were gone a long time.”

Suga hummed a noncommittal confirmation that could’ve just as easily been a denial. At least he seemed much better, compared to how stressed he’d seemed before the outing with his mother, Oikawa was glad to note.

“Did you have something else besides the ice cream as well? You’re not usually this touchy and demanding right away,” he wondered out loud, pondering on the possibility that Suga was so affectionate with him without any indication for it, if maybe Suga and his mother had swapped the ice cream for some alcohol.

“Just tea, a lot of it,” Suga answered. “I just missed you. And I’m glad to have my boyfriend back. Yesterday sucked.”

Oikawa was slightly ashamed of yesterday, for asking Suga to not be his boyfriend. It really was sucky of him, and he regretted it.

“I missed you too,” Oikawa revealed in a whisper, wrapping his arm around Suga’s back tighter, the crinkle of the paper of his notebook a protest of being scrunched between their bodies. He didn’t know how to say sorry for yesterday, and he got the feeling that Suga didn’t really want one either.

“Good,” Suga replied, causing Oikawa to lightly chuckle again, but with relief more than anything. It was nice, so unbelievable nice, to have things back the way they were.

“Where’d your mom go?” Oikawa asked then, belatedly realizing her absence.

“Her mom called when we were out but mom didn’t want to talk to her with so much noise around so she said she’d call back when we get back. I think she went to my room to call her,” Suga answered casually, his voice a little muffled, his lips brushing on Oikawa’s skin now and then with his words, sending little sparks of shivers to travel under Oikawa’s skin.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Oikawa wondered, a little surprised by his own caring of two people he had never even met, as his fingers trailed up and down along Suga’s back, following the curve of his spine absent-mindedly.

“No,” Suga answered straight away. “If my grandmother had died, she wouldn’t be calling herself.”

Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes at Suga’s giggle at his own ‘joke’. “What if something happened to your grandfather?”

“Mister Health Nut?” Suga lifted his head up to look at Oikawa, his eyebrow raised in disbelief that Oikawa would even ask, and smiling like the suggestion of it was funny to him. “He’s seventy-eight and running marathons. Trust me, he’s indestructible.”

Oikawa had to take a moment to repeat in his head what Suga had said. “Wait, what?” He looked at Suga with incredulity. “He still runs marathons? At his age?”

“Yeah,” Suga shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if it was normal that people still ran marathons when they were seventy-eight years old.

Oikawa took another moment, and came to a decision that, “Suga, your family is nuts.”

“Trust me, I know,” Suga rolled his eyes at the obviousness of Oikawa’s statement and buried his face back into the crook of Oikawa’s neck, finishing with a sigh as he wriggled closer, as if they weren’t already pressed against each other.

Not that Oikawa minded, as he pried the notebook away from between their chests and dropped it blindly to the floor to have it out of the way.

“We haven’t done this in forever,” Suga whispered against his skin, his lips faintly and feather light brushing on Oikawa tickling him again, his hand moving under Oikawa’s shirt from his waist to his back.

“You mean cuddled?” Oikawa checked.

“Yeah. I miss this.”

Oikawa could hear the gentle smile in Suga’s soft voice, and smiled as well. “Me too,” he admitted just as softly, pressing a kiss somewhere to the side of Suga’s head, his lips close to Suga’s ear.

“Why haven’t we done this?”

“Because you’re handsy and your mother is here,” Oikawa stated the obvious with a smirk when Suga’s hand moved lower on his back, ending it’s travels into the back pocket of Oikawa’s jeans.

Suga retaliated by squeezing his ass and playfully biting on the side of his neck.

Oikawa laughed, and sneaked his own hands to tickle Suga on his sides.

“Why are you tickling me?” Suga laughed, trying to block Oikawa’s hands. “It’s like you don’t even want me to cuddle you.”

Oikawa laughed with Suga, loving that sound filling their living room again. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed Suga’s laughter until he heard it again. And it hadn’t even been a full day since the last time he’d heard it.

“Please, stop!” Suga pleaded, the words broken and stuttered, started over and over again before they were finished, with hiccups of laughter.

Oikawa took mercy on him, let his hands fall still on Suga’s sides as he sobered, and waited. He waited for Suga to stop laughing, silently observing Suga’s face, the laugh lines, his bright eyes. And kissed him, deep and loving.

“Again,” Suga demanded softly when Oikawa broke away.

Oikawa smirked with mischief, and his fingers started to dance on Suga’s sides again.

“No, no no,” Suga giggled and screamed, his hands unsuccessfully fending off the tickles. “I meant a kiss,” he barely got out through his laughter.

Oikawa laughed with him, and maybe a little bit at him, as he swooped in for a kiss, as Suga had wanted.

They sunk into the kiss, the touch of their lips together, the slide of their tongues, the play of fingers in hair and brushing on skin.

Suga shifted a little, as much as he could under Oikawa’s weight and loosely wrapped his leg around Oikawa’s when they couldn’t go further without some pretty serious lack of privacy in front of his mother.

“What were you doing when we came in?” he asked, his fingers playing with Oikawa’s hair, twirling the fallen strands around his index finger.

“Work.”

“What work?” Suga’s brow furrowed slightly, his fingers pausing in their twirling.

Oikawa smirked. “I got a job.”

He noticed how Suga’s frown smoothed, with what he guessed was surprise, and he stayed quiet to let Suga process the news.

“When did this happen? When did you get a job?” Suga inquired with excitement, his face opening into a bright smile, as he raised himself on his hands to look down to Oikawa, one hand on Oikawa’s chest, the other on the couch cushion under them.

“Remember when you got suspicious of where I was going when I didn’t tell you?” Oikawa kept smirking. Something about finally telling Suga what had been going on, of letting his own excitement that he’d hidden for days on, made him giddy. “I went to a job interview, and at the end of it, they offered me a job and I signed the contract and everything.”

Suga slapped him on his chest, but it didn’t hurt. “What is the job?”

“’Coordinative director of sport’ of a volleyball team,” Oikawa said, feeling immensely pleased with himself, proud of himself. “And since it’s not a full-time job, only four to six work hours a day, I’m also going to coach a high school volleyball team.”

Suga’s bright smile melted into a softer version of it. “You’re going to coach?”

Oikawa nodded, running his hand down on Suga’s back. “I start the coaching on Monday, they needed someone as soon as possible. The office job doesn’t start for another week.”

“You’re going to be working. Every day.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa breathed, his mind already racing forward on his plans for the team, for his work, and it took a moment until the wistfulness in Suga’s voice registered in his mind. “Yeah,” he repeated as a sigh. “Every weekday.”

Suga’s smile was somber, but it didn’t undercut the proudness in his expression. “I’m going to be all alone during the days again.” He pouted right after, exaggerated and put on, so Oikawa knew he wasn’t too disappointed, just maybe a little bit.

“Will you be okay?” Oikawa teased, pouting himself as well, poking Suga on his cheek with his finger.

Suga shook his head to escape the gentle poking. “I guess,” he drawled, his pout gone, as if he was bored. “At least it’ll make it easier for me to see my lover now.”

“Suga!” Oikawa exclaimed, dramatically aghast.

Suga giggled over him, resting his forehead on Oikawa’s shoulder.

“But you should’ve told me earlier.” Suga lifted his head up as he grew more serious, the giggles gone from his voice but not from his bright eyes.

“I know,” Oikawa admitted. “But I told you now,” he added in a chipper voice, his grin smug-ish.

“That’s not getting any extra points for you.”

Oikawa made an exaggerated pout and moved his hand to the back of Suga’s head to bring him into a kiss. “How about now?”

Suga made the sound of a considering hum, his lips pursed. “No.”

Oikawa kissed him again, deeper and longer than earlier. “Now?” he whispered hopefully.

“No.”

“No?” Oikawa asked incredulously, and rolled them over so he was on top of Suga. “After such sweet kisses?” he laughed as he once again started to tickle Suga, who laughed in response immediately, twisting and turning away from the tickling.

“But seriously,” Suga said as he pushed his hand on Oikawa’s chest to keep him at an arm’s length. “I’m proud of you,” he stated with a soft smile, his other hand’s fingers tucking Oikawa’s hair behind his ear gently and with great care.

“Thank you,” Oikawa beamed, feeling contentment at Suga’s touch as he brought him closer for a never-endingly sweet kiss.

“I actually got a job as well.”

It was Oikawa’s turn to be surprised. “What job?”

“It’s only for a month,” Suga waved his hand as if this job wasn’t a big deal. “Takeda asked me to oversee a photography workshop,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll be spending my evenings at a gallery, not knowing what I’m doing at all when I’m supposed to ‘help’ aspiring artists to become better at their craft.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great at it.”

“I really don’t know that much about photography, though. I never studied it. I just take photos, and get lucky.”

Oikawa chuckled, fully conscious of the numerous photography books in Suga’s room and on the living room shelf. “Do I need to start aggressively validating you again?”

“Oh, no, not again.” Suga dropped to lie down on the couch, all ‘woe is me’, his arm slung over his eyes in very Oikawa-like dramatic fashion, eliciting amusement in Oikawa.

“I will, if I see that it’s needed,” Oikawa threatened, good-natured and lighthearted as he rolled to hover over Suga’s body.

Suga looked back at him, with what was probably meant to be a withering stare but was far too fond to have any real effect on scaring Oikawa, who matched the gaze with his own adoring.

“As much as I love to see you two so in love, it makes me a little nervous that I can’t see your hands,” Akiko said passively as she passed behind the couch, disrupting their quiet aloneness. “And grandmother says hi.”

Oikawa and Suga immediately lifted their hands in the air to show that they weren’t in anyone’s pants, for example, while their eyes remained in the soft eye contact.

Suga dropped his hands as soon as he had them lifted up, dropping them on Oikawa’s back, one of his hands back in Oikawa’s back pocket as if it had never left.

Oikawa chuckled at the move when there was no reaction to it on Suga’s face. “You’re shameless,” he whispered against Suga’s lips and kissed him.

“Why am I shameless?” Suga questioned, his voice genuinely curious, while his eyes were filled with mischief. So, Oikawa knew that he knew, but probably just wanted it to be said out loud.

Not that Oikawa had anything against it as he smirked, moving his hips back a little to push into Suga’s palm. “You really have a thing for my ass, don’t you?”

Suga’s hand squeezed his asscheek with the hand in the pocket. “What makes you say so?” he asked with a grin, biting his bottom lip right after as if he was trying to hide it.

“The fact that you’re constantly touching it,” Oikawa replied in a whisper, his voice low so it wouldn’t travel to the kitchen. “And you keep slapping it.” Both statement more or less more than just a half a truth.

Suga hummed in thought for a beat and squeezed Oikawa’s ass again, as if he was trying to get a feel of it before he’d present his professional opinion about it. “It’s nice and perky. Very slappable,” he delivered in a hushed voice as well, but all the while serious like a philosophy professor would be about existentialism.

Oikawa burst into laughter, a light blush covering his cheeks, and dropped his head down to hide it, pressing his face into the crook of Suga’s neck to try and muffle his laughter there.

“Koushi, darling,” Akiko said from the kitchen, hidden behind the back of the couch from them.

“I wasn’t doing anything,” Suga replied fast, causing Oikawa to start laughing even harder just as he’d almost managed to sober up.

“I was going to ask if you want tea,” Akiko said, her voice filled with confusion. “What were you doing?” she asked a beat after the silence that had fallen after her first question, her voice now dripping with suspicion.

“Absolutely nothing,” Suga answered, his hand slipping out of Oikawa’s back pocket as they both heard her soft footfalls come closer.

Oikawa rolled off of Suga to lay down next to him, innocently enough wrapped around his side just in time to look presentable for Akiko.

“I don’t believe you,” Akiko said when she stopped next to the couch, her speculative eyes studying them, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Sounds like a problem for you, not me,” Suga replied, tilting his head back to see his mother behind the armrest.

Akiko rolled her eyes and shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. “Do you want tea?” she asked after a sigh, fondly exasperated if such a thing existed.

“No thank you,” Suga shook his head. “Still filled with the three cups of tea we had earlier.”

“Alright,” she accepted and moved her gaze to Oikawa. “What about you, Tooru?”

“No, thank you,” he replied like Suga, and Akiko moved back to the kitchen, the water running a second later as she must’ve filled the kettle.

“You know, you have a really nice ass too,” Oikawa whispered, his mouth close to the shell of Suga’s ear, his hand traveling from Suga’s waist, down and over his hip and to the curve to the side of his ass.

“Thanks,” Suga lightly snickered, clearly pleased by the compliment.

“Very fuckable.”

“O-kay,” Suga drawled, suddenly rising to sit up, pushing Oikawa’s hand away from the vicinity of his ass. “Getting up now,” he said, straightening his shirt.

Oikawa snickered at Suga’s sudden fluster, something he wanted to take full advantage of since this was a rare treat. But he sighed with disappointment – he knew he very well couldn’t with Akiko only a couple of meters away.

“So, mom,” Suga said as he turned in his seat on the couch to see to the kitchen. “Did you have any other plans for today?”

“Well,” she started, but paused to walk over to them again. “I was thinking that we three could go out to a nice restaurant to celebrate Tooru’s achievement a little more intimately.” She spoke with fondness and softly patted his shoulder. “I want to hear more about your new job.”

“That’s sounds nice,” Oikawa referred to the dinner at a restaurant, scooting up on the couch to sit as well, his legs on both sides of Suga.

“How much did you hear of our conversation?” Suga asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

“Just a little in between phone calls,” Akiko answered blithely, quickly moving on. “And I was thinking that maybe your father could come as well.”

Oikawa’s head whipped to look up to Akiko, to see her already looking at him.

“Have you been talking to him?” Suga inquired in a voice that Oikawa couldn’t decipher, but he wasn’t overly concerned with it either as he was panicking a little bit. Just a little. A teeny tiny panic rising its head inside his.

“He called me to thank me for taking care of you,” Akiko responded, still so affectionate and fond, her touch still gentle and smile soft, mirrored in her eyes. “He suggested the dinner. I got the feeling that he really wants to be in your life again.”

“Yeah, no, I know that,” Oikawa nodded. He’d understood that much from his father’s questions the day before at the graduation party. Suga’s hand came down to rest on his thigh, whether it was a conscious effort for comfort or not, it helped, and Oikawa was grateful.

“He was really glad that you asked him to come up yesterday, honored that you wanted to show him a sliver of your life, to meet your friends.”

The kettle in the kitchen made gurgling sounds as the water boiled, but Akiko remained where she was watching them with gentle eyes, the best intentions loud and clear behind her words.

“We could be the buffer,” she continued, gesturing to herself and Suga. “And since he knows that you two are dating, he wanted to get to know you as well, Koushi.”

Oikawa met Suga’s eyes for a brief moment, both of them watching each other with care, before Suga moved his gaze to his mother.

“Did you tell him we’re dating?” he asked, innocently curious.

“He asked and I confirmed it. I didn’t think it would be such a big thing to tell him the truth after everything else he said. He was very taken with Koushi.”

Oikawa looked at Suga, and their eyes met again. This time, they ended it with a nod.

“Sure, he could come,” Oikawa voiced, his hand searching for Suga’s for comfort that was instantly offered, their fingers intertwined and hands resting in the small space between their bodies on the couch cushion.

Akiko leaned down to hug him, squeezing him tight in her warm embrace. “I’ll tell him,” she said as she let go. “So, still sure about the tea? You don’t want any?”

“Still sure,” Oikawa replied with a small smile, a small part of him appreciating Akiko for her care and thoughtfulness.

Suga echoed his reply and Akiko left them alone on the couch as she returned to the kitchen, soon puttering around there as she made herself a cup of tea. Oikawa had a feeling that she was being louder than usual on purpose, maybe to give them the impression of privacy to have a silent conversation.

“So, a dinner with your dad,” Suga said softly. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course,” Oikawa replied with a grin that was a little too wide to be genuine. “Promise to be there the whole time?” He meant to ask it, like a favor, but ended up sounding demanding.

It didn’t harden Suga’s gaze on him or change their intertwined hands. “I’ll glue myself to you if that’s what it takes.”

Oikawa looked at Suga for a moment, unblinking, before he let out an amused scoff of a chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.” He had no doubt that Suga wouldn’t just bring a bottle of glue to actually lather them with it and then stick them together.

Suga brought their hands up and tenderly kissed the back of Oikawa’s hand. “Why are you so apprehensive of him?” he asked in a whisper against the skin of Oikawa’s hand, his eyes looking up to him under his brows, half-hidden behind his long bangs.

“I don’t know,” Oikawa shrugged as he lied. He knew why he was apprehensive, and realized that he didn’t really have any reason to hide it from Suga. “I guess I just don’t fully believe that he and mother actually got divorced.”

“They’re divorced?” Suga’s brow rose with his surprise, his other hand came to cover Oikawa’s hand completely between his.

“Dad said they did, about a year ago. I just don’t know if I can trust it to be true. He might’ve said it just to get closer to me, and a small part of me is expecting her to show up with him to the dinner.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t lie if he wants to be a father to you again.”

“What if he doesn’t want that?”

“Why else would he have come then and act so civil and polite and friendly with everyone? Even with Kuroo who was really putting on a show of how gay he actually is.”

Oikawa snorted at the memory of how exaggerated Kuroo had been with everything he did and said, and he recognized the truthfulness of Suga’s words.

Why would his father pretend? It did make sense that he’d want to be in his son’s life, to know how he was doing and what he was doing.

Suga let go of his hand and moved closer to place them on his cheeks before he gave him a lingering, soft and sweet kiss. “I understand that you were hurt in the past by your parents, and I’m sorry you had to go through that. And I _never_ want you to go through that again,” he said as he rest his forehead against Oikawa’s. “But try and go with an open mind tonight,” he pulled back a little to look him in the eye. “My mom wouldn’t have accepted the idea of a dinner from him if she didn’t think he sincerely wanted to try and make amends with you. She’s a hard lady to fool.” He finished with pride in his voice, and Oikawa would have to agree with him on that.

Akiko couldn’t be fooled. She could detect bullshit in someone’s intentions and speech like a Geiger counter.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Open mind.” He nodded, determination rising in him. “But bring the glue anyway.”

Suga laughed and gave him another kiss, not as long as the previous but even more sweet and filled with laughter. The kind that Oikawa absolutely loved to receive from him.

  


 

...

  


 

Oikawa’s father was waiting in front of the restaurant when they got there, not that Oikawa was surprised at all. His father had had the tendency through his whole life to be everywhere ahead of time.

“Thank you for coming,” he greeted them genially, opening the door like a gentleman.

“You’re paying, right?” Oikawa joked as he passed his father, and to everyone’s shock – or maybe more just for Oikawa’s surprise since Suga and his mother didn’t know his father as well – the man smiled, like he was amused.

“Of course,” his father nodded with his answer, sealing the deal.

They were led to their table by the hostess, and Oikawa thought this was the perfect opportunity to right some wrongs from the day before. And since Suga had guessed that his father had already known... And Akiko had already confirmed it to him…

“So, dad, this is Sugawara Koushi,” he gestured to Suga. “My boyfriend.”

Suga looked at him with a pleased small smile.

“And his mother, Akiko-san,” Oikawa finished, meeting her gaze with a smile of his own, proud to have accomplished that with zero awkwardness.

“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you,” his father said as he shook Suga’s hand, playing along with Oikawa’s introductions as if he was really meeting Suga for the first time. “Should we sit?”

“Go ahead, I’d like to wash my hands, though,” Akiko said and left towards the restrooms.

“Me too, actually,” Oikawa said, and he looked to Suga. “Are you okay to be alone with him for a bit?” He motioned towards his father with a slight tilt of his head.

“No. You have to stay,” Suga answered seriously.

Oikawa eyed Suga with confusion and uncertainty. But his expression cleared when he noticed Suga flash a smile.

“You’re kidding,” Oikawa stated.

“Go, we’ll be fine,” Suga reassured before Oikawa left him alone with his father.

 

“You already knew yesterday that we were dating, didn’t you?” Suga asked softly once he sat down across from Oikawa’s father.

“I had an inkling,” the man confirmed, polite as he had been the day before. “I like to think I know my son pretty well, and he was looking at you quite fondly. First I thought he just liked you, but then you looked at him the very same way, so I figured.”

Suga nodded with a shy smile.

“You’ve been together quite a while then, since you’re already living together.”

“Oh,” Suga let out a soft breath out of surprise. “No,” he shook his head, not giving the time needed to do the math of the timeline in middle of his reply. “We’ve only been together maybe two months. We were just roommates first.”

“Oh,” Oikawa’s father let out a breath, just a hint of surprise in his expression. “You just happened to fall in love with each other?”

Suga didn’t detect any malice in his voice or behavior, and answered truthfully. “Something like that,” he managed to get out before his mother arrived, taking a seat next to him.

“Should we play a prank on Tooru and go hide?” she suggested with an excited grin.

“Too late,” Suga stated as he noticed his boyfriend return as well. “It was a good idea, though. Maybe we can try that some other time,” he finished quickly so Oikawa didn’t hear.

Oikawa sat down next to his father, facing Suga, and quickly bringing his legs forward under the table to hook them around Suga’s.

They shared a short but tender eye contact when they felt the touch, but were forced to break it when the waitress came.

And their dinner had officially started.

  


 

...

  


 

Once Oikawa had thoroughly briefed everyone of his new job, and everyone had gushed about his thesis and diploma, the food had been eaten and the bill paid by Oikawa’s father, they stepped into the soft evening air, the warmth of the spring still leaving as the sun had already set.

Suga watched Oikawa say goodbye to his father, how he shook hands with the older man, heard the promise Oikawa made to keep in touch with his father.

“Should we take a taxi back to your apartment?” his mother asked when the older Oikawa had walked away, waving his goodbyes, but Suga barely paid any mind to her question as he was focused on Oikawa.

“Do you have home keys with you?” he asked.

Oikawa nodded as he answered. “Yeah, why?”

“Mom?” Suga called for her then, pulling his own keys from his pocket. “Do you mind if Tooru and I stay out a bit longer? Just the two of us?”

She didn’t look the least bit surprised as a soft smile came to her. “Of course not.”

“Here, take my keys so you can get in.” He offered the jingling items to her, and once his hand was free of them, he reached for Oikawa’s hand. “Are you going to make it to our apartment okay on your own?”

“It’s a taxi ride,” she answered, gesturing to the vehicle at the curb, the back door open and waiting for her. “Not a monster truck rally.”

“You don’t need to sass me,” Suga replied with fond exasperation. “Thank you,” he sighed right after, truly grateful for her.

“Go, have fun,” she motioned for them to get on. “I’ll see you later.”

“Don’t wait up for us,” Oikawa said when he went to give her a quick hug.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Suga and Oikawa both nodded and waited until she was inside the car and speeding off.

“What did you have in mind?” Oikawa asked when the taxi was lost in the sea of traffic and head- and brakelights. The hand that wasn’t holding on Suga’s traveled up his other arm, slowly.

“Nothing special,” Suga responded honestly with a slight shrug. “Just wanted to spend some time with just you for a bit.”

Oikawa’s hand ended on Suga’s neck and he leaned in to kiss him. “Okay, sounds good,” he said with a smile. “I am pretty awesome to hang out with.”

Suga chuckled with fondness, his free hand grabbing onto the lapel of Oikawa’s jacket to bring him closer to another kiss. “The smugger you are, the less cute you become,” he softly grinned at Oikawa.

“It’s okay,” he grinned back, not at all perturbed by Suga’s statement. “You’re supposed to be the cute in this relationship, while I’m the handsome one.”

“Okay,” Suga stepped away from him and turned on his heel to walk away. “See you at home.”

“Wait, Suga-chan,” Oikawa laughed after him and quickly caught up, wrapping his strong arms around Suga’s shoulders. “You’re so adorable when you try and act mad at me.” He chuckled against Suga’s neck while he kept walking, Oikawa draped on his back.

“Who says I’m acting?” Suga tried to sound mad, because, let’s face it, he was acting. But his voice betrayed him, his happiness giving it a specific lilt. “And everyone keeps looking at us,” he pointed out as he noticed the passers-by take a quick appraisal of them.

“It’s okay,” Oikawa sing-songed in a whisper, his breath fanning on the slope of Suga’s shoulder and somehow slithering under his light jacket and shirt. “They can’t help but take a double-look when they see someone with a face as handsome as mine and physique as impressive as mine,” he stated cockily.

Suga rolled his eyes and tried to punch Oikawa in his midriff with his elbow, only receiving amused chuckles from Oikawa in response. “Okay, I’ll stop,” he said with delight, trading his words of assurance to small kisses on Suga’s neck.

They walked slowly forward, a little awkwardly thanks to how Oikawa still had his arms wrapped around Suga, like a pair of ducks glued together. Not that Suga minded, as busy as he was being content with the warmth of Oikawa’s body pressed to his.

“Koushi.”

Suga stopped suddenly when Oikawa said his name and turned as Oikawa’s arms slid away to accommodate the move, to meet his quizzical eyes. “What was that voice?”

Oikawa smirked, stepping closer to Suga, their bodies touching on every point possible. “My bedroom voice,” he continued, still in the same voice, doing _things_ to Suga and his mind, changing the course of his blood in his body.

“I’ve never heard you use it before,” Suga said with something akin to awe, his hands grasping on Oikawa’s sleeves. He _loved_ that voice, no matter what it was doing to him, and wanted Oikawa to talk to him in that voice and only in that voice for the rest of their lives.

“That’s because you’re always busy breathing hard and moaning loudly.”

“You’re horrible,” Suga whispered without any heat, playfully swatting on Oikawa’s arm.

Oikawa chuckled, the sound lower than usual, and brought his hands on both sides of Suga’s neck, his thumbs under his jaw, to kiss him passionately.

Suga wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s waist inside his open jacket, Oikawa slid one of his hands down on Suga’s back to the small of his back to bring him pressed against his body.

Suga had to remind himself _we’re in public, we’re in public, WE’RE IN PUBLIC_ , as Oikawa kept licking into his mouth, thoroughly kissing his knees to jelly and mind clouded.

“Want to go to a hotel or something?” Oikawa asked when they broke away for a quick breath, their lips unwilling to part for so long and brushing against each other as he spoke.

Suga would nothing more, and he said as much, his breath stolen away by the kiss. But, “You’ve got work tomorrow and we should probably get some sleep soon.”

Oikawa hummed into the next kiss, abruptly interrupting Suga’s words in between sentences.

“You’re going to want to be well rested for the first morning practice,” he finally managed to get out when Oikawa broke away again so they could both get a couple of good deep breaths in.

“You know me so well,” Oikawa mused, his nose lightly brushing against Suga’s. “And you’re right. We should head home.”

Suga nodded and rose on his toes to place a sweet kiss on Oikawa’s lips before he stepped away and turned towards home. “Want to walk? It’s about thirty minutes from here?”

“Sure,” Oikawa seemed to agree easily, his voice bright and happy as he wrapped his arm behind Suga’s shoulders.

Suga wrapped his arm around Oikawa’s back with a smile, fitting their sides together as they walked. It didn’t take long for his hand to slid down and find it’s way into Oikawa’s back pocket.

He felt more than heard Oikawa chuckle.

“You’re shameless,” he stated right after, his lips to Suga’s temple to leave a kiss there.

  
  


 

...

 

 

 

“Suga,” Oikawa whined a little as they stepped into the stairwell of the apartment building, the lights turning on as their movement was detected – another new upgrade the building had gotten, although the locks were still under work – and the warmth inside wrapping around them, welcoming them inside from the clear and colder air than what was usual for the spring nighttime. “Can you carry me up?”

“Sure.”

Oikawa paused, sure that he’d incorrectly as he blinked at Suga, studying his expression to see if he was joking.

“You will?” he asked incredulously. He really hadn’t thought that Suga would agree.

“Yeah,” Suga laughed lightly. “I think I can manage.”

Oikawa looked up to the stairs leading to the first turn and back to Suga a couple of times, debating with himself whether to go forward with his more a joke rather than a serious request. “Are you sure?” he checked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Suga still laughed a little with his answer. “Hop on my back.”

Oikawa did as suggested, putting his hands on Suga’s shoulders and jumping up so Suga could grab his legs, his chest pressed to Suga’s back.

“Hold on,” Suga advised, taking a slow but steady step forward.

“I’m surprised you didn’t crumble right under me,” Oikawa mused as he watched the stairs coming closer and closer with every slow step Suga took.

“I’m trying really hard not to make a remark of your weight,” Suga said, maybe a little breathless, if Oikawa really paid attention to how he spoke.

“Shut up,” Oikawa shot back, indignant, squeezing his legs tighter around Suga’s waist in retaliation. “I’m taller than you.”

It was a good thing he did squeeze his legs tighter, for Suga let go of them when they got to the bottom of the stairs. It didn’t help Oikawa, though, for he dropped his legs onto the ground so he wouldn’t topple backwards.

“Last stop,” Suga said, shaking his body a little, as if trying to shake Oikawa off of his back like it was a giant bug.

“You said you’d carry me,” Oikawa pouted, confused of what Suga was doing.

“And I did,” Suga looked over his shoulder at Oikawa, and then turned his body fully so they faced each other when Oikawa let go of his shoulders. “You didn’t specify where you wanted to be carried to.”

“Technicalities,” Oikawa scoffed, disappointed that he wouldn’t get a piggy back ride to their apartment.

“Come on.” Suga took his hand and started to lead him upstairs. “You didn’t actually imagine that I could carry you up two flights of stairs?”

“Is it that hard to believe that I would have that much faith in you?”

“You were amazed that I didn’t immediately crumble when you jumped on my back,” Suga said, chuckling faintly. “And now you have blind faith in me that I could’ve carried you up? Like I was Superman.”

“Are you Superman, though?”

They stopped at the turn in middle of the second flight of stairs, or Suga stopped and Oikawa with him with a question in his eyes for the sudden stop.

“Are you seriously asking me if I’m Superman?” Suga asked, his voice beyond incredulous. “How tired are you?”

“Extremely,” Oikawa replied, dropping his head on Suga’s shoulder. “Carry me.”

Suga patted his head with a gentle hand, chuckling a little, the breath tickling Oikawa down his neck. “Come on, we’re almost home. I’m sure you can make it.”

Oikawa lifted his head with a sharp breath to regard Suga. “I really can’t,” he said seriously.

“Then I guess you’re sleeping here,” Suga offered airily. “Good night.” He patted Oikawa’s head again as he let go of his hand, already ascending the stairs when Oikawa reached to grab the hand that had so coldly just let go.

“You’re evil and heartless,” Oikawa pouted, following Suga’s lead up the stairs.

“I’m efficient,” Suga replied, just as they got to their landing. “See, wasn’t that easy?” he asked proudly in front of their door.

“No,” Oikawa shook his head, his voice serious with how obvious his answer was.

Suga tilted his head a little to the side as he gave Oikawa a soft look and smile, before he stepped closer, placed his slightly colder hands on Oikawa’s cheeks and kissed him sweetly.

“Forgiven?” he checked when he pulled back to look at Oikawa.

“Maybe after a second kiss,” Oikawa considered.

Suga seemed to acquiesce easily as he kissed Oikawa again, just as sweet as the previous kiss was.

“Better?”

“Yeah, I like you again,” Oikawa grinned, stepping out of the way so Suga could open the door without banging it against him.

“You’re not asleep yet,” Suga commented on his mother’s presence in the living room, the lights still on and a very familiar theme playing from the television.

“How could I sleep when there’s reruns of Powerpuff girls on?” she asked a very rhetoric question, tucking the blanket over her legs more securely as she was snuggling to Kumamon.

“Wow, you really are her son,” Oikawa leaned closer to whisper to Suga as he passed by him, receiving a light slap on his arm in reprimand from him.

Oikawa chuckled, amused by his own joke and Suga’s half-hearted slap and accompanying smile.

“How was your walk?” Akiko looked at them as she asked.

“Brisk,” Oikawa answered, stepping away from the door, since he really didn’t have any reason to keep standing there. “How did you know we walked?” He asked as he came to the unoccupied couch to rest his hip against it.  

“I know my son,” she replied mysteriously. “And how are you doing? About everything that has happened between you and your father the past two days,” she explained kindly, looking at him with motherly worry in her expression.

“I’m good,” Oikawa answered honestly, ending it with a yawn. “A little tired, though.”

“Go get ready for bed,” Suga nudged him lightly when he came to stand next to him, looking at him with all the care in the world.

Oikawa nodded and did as advised, wishing Akiko to have a good night’s sleep, and left Suga alone in the living room with his mother.

  


...

  


“How are you, honey?” Akiko asked from Suga once Oikawa had left the room, her gaze following him to the hallway to make sure before she turned to her son.

“I’m good too,” Suga answered, sitting down on the free couch. “I remember this episode.”

“I like it,” Akiko nodded, glancing at the television. “I like them all.”

“Powerpuff girls rule,” Suga sighed, leaning back against the armrest, his posture relaxed and overall impression lazy and sleepy.

“Are you really okay?” Akiko asked worriedly. It had been an emotional day, and she had been continuously worried, a little less and a little more from time to time, of how he was handling everything. He did seem better, a little less occupied by the thoughts in his head and a little more present. But still, she was a mother, and she tended to worry about him.

“I’m really okay,” Suga reaffirmed. “Just feels like this has been a long day.”

“I know,” Akiko smiled softly at him. “Are you going to go sleep as well?”

Suga had his eyes on the television when he replied slowly, “If I don’t get up in the next two minutes, I’ll probably fall asleep here.”

Akiko watched how he rubbed his eyes and made up the decision for him. “Then you really should go.”

“But I like this episode.”

“Which means you’ve seen it before and you know how it ends,” Akiko said and picked up a throw pillow from the floor and threw it at her son. “Go to sleep,” she stressed with a gentle smile.

Suga received the pillow with his face, his expression stunned with wide eyes, frozen like that for a blink. “Did I travel back in time?” he asked with awe. “It’s like I’m sixteen again and you’re trying to get me to go to sleep by engaging in a one person pillow fight.”

“Go to sleep or I throw another one,” Akiko threatened with a smile, more than happy to throw it too if her son didn’t get a move on.

“You do realize how unfair the pillow fight was back then since you didn’t give me pillow to defend myself, right?”

Akiko laughed as she threw the second pillow.

“Going,” Suga laughed as well, getting up in a hurry. “But only to escape your pillow throwing.”

“I have more of these pillows here so I’d hurry or my next target is the back of your head,” she feigned the threat by holding up another pillow, her smile taking the edge out of it.

“You’d never hit,” Suga teased, laughing as he half-ran to the hallway to get away from the third pillow as well as it flew across the room, almost hitting him on the arm, missing only by a centimeter or two.

Akiko could hear his laughter travel down the hallway, the sound bringing a reminiscent smile on her lips. He had been right - it was as if it was ten years ago. Somehow their earlier talk over ice cream and tea must’ve brought that out of them.

  


 

...

  


 

Suga turned the lights off in the bathroom with a soft, anticipatory smile on his lips, the kind of giddy feeling that came from exhaustion thrumming inside him.

The feeling, however, fizzled out of him, slowly like the air out of a helium ball as it was left alone to wilt when the air eventually disappeared into nothing, as if it had never been filled with anything that could make it float high and higher in the sky if it was let go of, when he saw the bed and heard it calling for him.

Oikawa was already there, fallen asleep in his bed, looking calm and innocent, and his glasses just a little askew on his nose, pressed so by the pillow under his cheek. Suga couldn’t help but fondly smile at Oikawa, at his boyfriend, and feel happy, the feeling deep inside him, taking a permanent stay.

He took quiet steps towards the bed as he thought on how to proceed. He didn’t want to wake Oikawa up, knowing how exhausting the day must’ve been for Oikawa as well. He was aware of the emotional toll it took on his boyfriend to spend time with his father, even if they were making the effort to fix what had been broken. But he knew that Oikawa was happy of the development, even if he was cautiously so.  

With a soft exhale Suga moved so his knee was on the edge of the bed so he could lean over Oikawa, and he carefully slid the glasses off. Oikawa made a sound reminiscent of a quiet hum and turned a little when Suga had successfully removed his glasses and set them down on the bedside table.

“Suga-“ Oikawa whispered, but Suga was certain he wasn’t exactly awake when he did so, and only ran his hand down the side of Oikawa’s head and over his cheek, down his neck and stopped at his chest, in lieu of wordlessly telling him to sleep.

Suga sat down on the bed and watched how Oikawa breathed softly, instinctively snuggling closer to the pillow his head was resting on and curling into himself, and only brought the covers up and over Oikawa’s body when he stopped moving. He kissed Oikawa gently on his cheek and leaned away to turn the light on the bedside table off before he slipped under the covers as well, curling against Oikawa’s warm back, content in the moment, in what he had with Oikawa.

He knew he’d turn away from Oikawa the second he was asleep, but he was comforted knowing that Oikawa didn’t mind. His other boyfriends and whatnots – Akaashi, Konoha, Terushima, that one guy before any of them – they had all minded. But Oikawa said he didn’t mind and Suga had decided to believe him with all his heart.

He decided to be happy with Oikawa, no matter what difficulties they might come to face.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't an ominous statement or foreshadowing or a cliffhanger or anything like that! I promise!  
> (just had to mention this here because I read the last sentence in a couple of different voices in my head and it sounded ominous when I thought it in a specific way, so... It really isn't a foreshadowing for anything bad, I really promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.) 
> 
>  
> 
> to be continued: 
> 
> “If I come out there and see Makki and Mattsun with their cocks out, I’m going to develop magic powers from the ass of a demon and whip them silly with a pink candy cane shaped fairy wand, sold with a freaking silver plastic crown and pink and lilac fairy wings, all of which I pulled out from the air because I just suddenly can do that!”


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments and love <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy Oikawa and Suga suffering a dry spell :)

 

 

”Alright, darlings,” Akiko said with a wistful smile as she gently placed her bag on the floor in the living room, by the couch Oikawa was lying on, and extended her arms out. “Bye bye.”

“Akiko-san,” Oikawa said just as wistfully as he fluidly stood up, swinging his long legs off the couch. “Why don’t you move to Tokyo so we could see you all the time? You could stay with us.” He made his way around the couch to her and wrapped her into a warm hug, receiving the same from her if not a little bit more intensely when she wrapped her arms around him.

“Don’t promise her things we can’t pull through with,” Suga protested from the kitchen, the tap running as he must’ve been rinsing the dishes from their breakfast.

“I can’t stay, I’m sorry,” Akiko replied in the hug. “And I can’t move here either. My parents are in Miyagi and they need me to take care of them now and then. I’m afraid they need me more than you do.” She pulled away from the hug and placed her hands on Oikawa’s biceps to take a good look at him.

“Is it horrible of me to wish they would die soon so you could move here?”

“Tooru!” she laughed and scolded at the same time. “Yes, it’s terrible,” she kept chuckling, patting his shoulders.

“I’m pretty sure grandmother is going to outlive even you mom, no matter how certain she is that she’ll die at the end of June,” Suga commented, and a second later turned the tap off. “Just out of spite for what Tooru just said.”

Akiko laughed at that and let go off Oikawa, turning to her son. “You’re right. She would. Come here.” She gestured for Suga to come to her. “I want to hug you too before I leave, to give you so much love there’s still some left when we see each other the next time.”

“Don’t hug her,” Oikawa suggested with a mischievous grin. “Then she can’t leave.”

Suga laughed at Oikawa’s idea as he made his way to his mother and hugged her, squeezed her back with all he had.

“You know, you two could move to Miyagi,” Akiko said when she and Suga broke away from their heartwarming hug. “Then I wouldn’t be so far away.”

“Can’t, mom,” Suga replied instantly, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “If we moved there, you’d be too close.”

“What are you talking about?” Oikawa asked from Suga after a small gasp escaped his lungs, his gaze fixed on Suga’s hair, his fingers gently tingling with the subtle need to put it on a small ponytail again. “That’s a great idea, Akiko-san.”

“See?” Akiko turned to Suga with a smug look.

“If you want to live closer to my mom, be my guest,” Suga said with amusement coloring his voice. “But I won’t come with you.”

“Hmph,” Oikawa crossed his arms in front of his chest and pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“Love you too,” Suga smiled sweetly at him, his hand brushing the hair from his eyes again.

Oikawa couldn’t watch him do it for a third time, and it made up his mind to step closer to Suga, his hands immediately reaching up to gather some of the hair on top of Suga’s head to a small ponytail, even though it wouldn’t help him see any better.

“You should get a haircut,” Akiko suggested.

Oikawa agreed with her, but he wanted to disagree too, for he kind of loved Suga’s slightly overgrown hair – it gave him an excuse to play with it as he pulled it to small ponytail whenever he wanted to.

Suga hummed in agreement with his mother, or so Oikawa thought. “But I like how Tooru plays with it.”

Oikawa’s fingers stilled in middle of twisting a small hairband around the small section he’d managed to gather together and a pleased, small smile softened his features as he finished the ponytail on top of Suga’s head, the peck he placed on Suga’s cheek the icing on a cake.

“I guess that’s a legitimate reason not to cut it then,” Akiko spoke thoughtfully. “I just hate how it hides your eyes,” she said with genuinely sounding sorrow.

“Don’t worry. This way I’m not so scared to see you.”

Oikawa fought against the laughter that Suga’s comment brought out to him, his mouth in a wide and poorly suppressed grin, and he turned his head away so she couldn’t see it.

“Who raised you?” Akiko asked with indignation, but there was a definite note of amusement in her voice that told them she wasn’t actually offended at all.

“I’m pretty sure I share a last name with her,” Suga shrugged, noncommittal as anyone could ever be, looking a little bored, but adorable with the apple hair.

“The poor soul,” Akiko shook her head with feigned despair.

“I know,” Suga agreed in the same tone, mimicking her.

Oikawa decided step in, before the two got any further with their banter, and before Akiko missed her train. “Do you want us to walk you to the station?” he offered.

“No, no, there’s no need. I’ve called a taxi since it’s raining.”

“Call me when you get home,” Suga went for another hug for his mother. “Call me when you get to the train too.”

“I will,” she promised as they pulled away with soft smiles. “Now, I want to see one more kiss before I leave.”

“No.” Suga refused immediately and deadpan.

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed to it at the same time and went to steal a kiss from Suga.

“There’s something very wrong with you,” Suga commented to his mother after the kiss.

Oikawa stayed glued to Suga, turning his body so he could wrap his arm behind Suga’s back and keep close to him. He slipped his finger through a belt loop at Suga’s jeans, anchoring him in place at Suga’s side.  

“It’s just so lovely to see you happy,” she smiled with fondness, her hands clasped together in front of her chest. “You can’t blame a mother for wanting to see her child happy and rejoicing in it.”

“I guess I can’t,” Suga admitted with a soft smile. “Now leave so we can finally make out,” he added in a more hurried way, his expression suddenly serious, making shooing motions with his hands at his mother.

Akiko laughed lightly, and Oikawa knew that Suga had also meant that they could finally have sex.

“Promise to be safe,” she said with an impish grin, picking up her bag from the floor.

“Sure,” Suga replied quickly.

“Or do I have to sit you down for a talk about safe sex?”

 _“Never again.”_ Suga sounded horrified, while Oikawa looked on with bemusement.

“She gave you the safe sex talk?” he asked, his expression changing with mirth as the notion of Akiko giving Suga a talk about safe sex realized in his mind. “I need to hear this story.” He looked excitedly to Akiko, silently pleading her to tell it.

“Okay,” Suga moved to push his mother towards the front door. “Time for you to go. I’m sure the taxi is already waiting for you downstairs.”

Akiko laughed, moving willingly under Suga’s guidance. “Alright, I’m going, I’m going,” she said, still laughing.

“I’ll walk you downstairs,” Oikawa offered, lazily pulling his sneakers on, the backs folded under his heels.

Akiko thanked him, and gave her son a last quick hug with the promises to call to tell them that she’d got to the train station, and that she’d arrived safely home.

They didn’t have to wait long in the small lobby downstairs for the taxi. Once it stopped in front of the door, Akiko turned to Oikawa.

“Promise to take good care of Koushi,” she asked, her hand on Oikawa’s arm asking his attention, her eyes pleading for something deeper than the casual care between friends.

“Promise,” Oikawa said seriously.

“He loves you so,” she added softly, her smile edged with worry.

Oikawa exhaled softly. “I know,” he nodded, picking up her bags to carry them to the awaiting taxi. “I love him too.”

Akiko patted his cheek with a gentle hand, her smile motherly happy, kind of proud, bidding her last goodbyes before she closed the car door and the taxi sped away.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

That had been two weeks ago.

And they still hadn’t had sex.

Oikawa was feeling the growing frustration with every breath he took. Even the usual jerk off he enjoyed in the mornings in the shower before he left for work wasn’t really helping. It dulled the bent up neediness, but didn’t erase it.

Of course living with Suga and seeing him every day, even if it was just for five minutes and for a quick kiss “hello” when they were both too busy for anything more, wasn’t helping at all. He could always see what he wanted and knew could have, but not at that very moment. And having Suga’s warm body next to him in the bed while they slept was both comforting presence and a cruel reminder. The chaste kisses and lingering touches whenever they greeted each other in hellos and goodbyes were only adding fuel to the flame.

And now, after three weeks of no sex, Oikawa couldn’t keep his eyes away from Suga’s ass while they walked up and down the aisles during their grocery shopping. No one could blame Oikawa for staring at it, since it was right there when Suga walked a few paces in front of him, dropping this and that and whatever was running low in their kitchen into the cart.

“Can you please stop staring at my ass?” Suga asked softly while he looked down to the list in his hand, probably checking if they had already gotten everything they needed.

“No, I really can’t,” Oikawa replied truthfully, his eyes still glued to the way Suga’s jeans hugged his ass, trying desperately not to think and remember how it felt, how it looked naked, how it –

His thoughts were cut off when he noticed Suga look at him over his shoulder with a calculating look.

“It’s right there,” Oikawa exclaimed softly, gesturing with his hand to in front of him, vaguely at Suga’s ass. He was impressed, though, that Suga had been able to feel him looking. Or maybe he had just gotten a lucky guess in.

Suga turned his head to look forward again, but Oikawa saw how he slightly shook his head, the small smile on his lips. “I think we have everything, we can go,” Suga said then, folding the list into his pocket.

Oikawa nodded and they made their way to check out, joining the queue.

“What time do you have to be at the gallery?” Oikawa leaned lightly against Suga’s shoulder, leaning more heavily with his arms to the cart.

“Five,” Suga answered with a soft sigh.

Oikawa checked the time from his wristwatch. By the time they’d get home, they wouldn’t have the time to have sex before Suga would have to get ready for the gallery. He sighed as well, but masked it by pressing a soft kiss on Suga’s shoulder.

He glanced up, his lips still glued to Suga’s shoulder, and saw Suga smiling fondly at him, a strain behind his eyes. Oikawa recognized that strain – it was the same he’d seen built more and more prominent to become an edge in Suga’s voice for days now.

“When is the workshop over?” Oikawa straightened away and pushed forward in the queue when there was room to do so.

“Fifteen more days,” Suga answered, stepping up next to him and wrapping an arm behind his back, his hand sneaking under the hem of the shirt.  

Oikawa took a deep breath in, and wondered if he could handle fifteen more days of Suga without actually having Suga. The glide of Suga’s fingertips across his skin on his lower back and waist made him wish to be able to fast-forward the two weeks, to somehow travel in time. Although, if he could travel in time, they could have sex when they got home, then travel back for Suga to make it on time to the gallery.

If only he could get his hands on a working Tardis, with or without any reincarnation of the doctor, he wasn’t picky.

With their new schedules, Oikawa working mornings at the office and coaching in the afternoons, and Suga at the gallery for the workshop in the evenings and nights, they hadn’t had real time together, and Oikawa missed Suga more than he missed the sex, if he was completely honest. He’d be in bed, already asleep or at the verge of falling asleep when Suga came home, and he’d be gone in the morning before Suga was ready to wake up. And Suga was home alone during the days when Oikawa was at work, and would usually be gone to the gallery before Oikawa got home, to spend the time alone or with their friends, and it was every day, the same, always missing, always longing.

And he knew that Suga felt the same way, although Suga’s frustration about the sexless relationship they had accidentally dropped in manifested more prominently than anything else.

Suga suddenly straightened up from leaning so heavily against Oikawa’s side.

“What’s up?” Oikawa asked with curiosity.

“I forgot tofu,” Suga said, his gaze down in the cart, and then behind them.

“Go get it,” Oikawa nudged him with his elbow. “I’ll wait here.”

Suga nodded quickly and left him alone in his quest for the tofu. It was a miracle Suga had forgotten it, the very ingredient the reason they even decided to go grocery shopping.

In Suga’s absence Oikawa took a cursory look at the ingredients inside the cart, his gaze turning speculative as he took in the amount of food they were buying. It seemed that they were buying enough to feed a platoon, but he knew it was necessary – otherwise they would all starve. Although, the amount of junk food was a little bit worrisome. Maybe they should cut back on the –

“Excuse me.”

A voice disrupted Oikawa’s thoughts and he looked to his side, to the source of the voice, to the young woman dressed in a designer dress and high heels, her long hair open and gorgeously framing her face.

“Yes?” Oikawa raised his eyebrows in question.

“I apologize for disturbing you, but was that Sugawara Koushi who was here with you?”

Oikawa mulled the question for a second before he furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who?”

This wasn’t the first time that Oikawa had seen or heard someone ask if Suga was _the Suga._ The first time that Oikawa had witnessed it, he’d been with Suga when a man a little older than them had approached them, polite and apologizing for interrupting them, asking Suga if he was who he thought he was. Suga had acted confused, laughed with the man about the mistaken identity, how weird it apparently was that Suga looked so much like the photography artist the man had thought he was.

“Sugawara Koushi, he’s a photo artist,” the woman explained patiently, some hope still lingering in her expression.

“Oh,” Oikawa breathed softly, applying what he’d picked up from Suga for situations like these. “Never heard of him.”

“Oh,” the woman said with disappointment, her expression falling. “I guess it wasn’t him then,” she muttered, apparently to herself, as she looked to the direction Suga had taken off to.

“Sorry,” Oikawa offered a tight-lipped smile.

“No, I apologize,” the woman said hurriedly but earnestly. “I shouldn’t have disturbed you with this. Please accept my apologies,” she bowed a little.

Oikawa fought the grin off of his face, pleased that he’d succeeded. “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” he said as casually as he could.

The woman straightened and bowed once more as she wished him to have a nice day before she left.

Oikawa looked after her for a moment, but only a short moment before Suga stole his focus when he returned, dropping the tofu into the cart just as the queue moved up again.

“Are you flirting with others while I’m gone?” he asked with an impish grin, his arm back around Oikawa.

“Maybe,” Oikawa grinned back, happy to have Suga back at his side. “Jealous?”

“Yes,” Suga replied, sounding serious enough to actually mean it, his tone softened with the amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Oikawa chuckled shortly, leaning to quickly kiss Suga in middle of the busy store, surrounded by people behind and in front of them in the queue.

“You don’t need to worry about her,” he said when he pulled back with regret that they weren’t home alone at that very moment. He wanted to make use of Suga’s jealousy. “She just came to ask if you were the famous photo artist.”

Suga’s grin fell and his expression turned dark with seriousness and worry, swiftly glancing where the woman had probably gone to, probably making sure she wasn’t still lingering by and watching them.

“What’d you tell her?”

“That I’ve never heard of Sugawara Koushi,” Oikawa said, his grin still in place and held on with his whole heart.

Suga chuckled lightly, his sigh relieved. “I hate to be recognized by people that have attended my exhibitions,” he mourned his fate, dropping his forehead onto Oikawa’s shoulder.

“I know,” Oikawa responded with sympathy, his arm wrapping around Suga’s back to offer some comfort. “At least it doesn’t happen often.”

“I’d prefer if it didn’t happen at all.”

Oikawa hummed, and moved to pay for their groceries. “I kind of like having a famous boyfriend,” he teased Suga, who lightly punched his arm in response.

Oikawa snickered as he finished the short interaction with the cashier, who seemed amused by their antics, and in a matter of time that went undocumented, they were outside.

“This Sunday, when I have a day off, and before you have to go to the gallery,” Oikawa started to muse out loud, gaze forward and hand holding Suga’s, a warm presence pressed to his side. “How about we lock our front door?” He looked to Suga for his response.

“Sunday...?” Suga seemed to think about something, his brow a little furrowed as his eyes searched at nothing. “Isn’t it the picnic day?”

Oikawa groaned and hung his head back briefly, his eyes in the skies asking for fairness from the space and the overlord aliens. He’d completely forgotten about the picnic.

“Could we skip it? Tell everyone that we need the time to have mindless, crazy, wild sex?”

Oikawa was delighted by Suga’s small laughter.

“I’m afraid not,” Suga sobered to say with regret, his smile truly sorry looking. “You know that Daichi and Hajime would never forgive us for missing the celebration of their anniversary.”

“I think they would if we told them what it was for,” Oikawa said, his tone and expression gravely serious.

They moved to let a group of people pass without any of them being run over by the cars whizzing by. Oikawa saw Suga shake his head when they were walking side by side again. “They wouldn’t,” he said with a small smile, and Oikawa knew he was right.

He was still disappointed. “Okay, Saturday night, when you come home from the gallery,” he presented an alternative, and was instantly pouting when he noticed Suga shake his head again.

“Why?” he might’ve whined.

“I promised to help Daichi with preparing the food for the picnic,” Suga answered.

Oikawa’s pout intensified, and Suga tried to comfort him with a kiss to the corner or his lips.

It did work, a little.

Oikawa was always assured and soothed by Suga’s easy tactile ways, the little touches and more broad gestures that could stand the light of day and the looks of other people in the public.

“Well find the time,” Suga assured him with a squeeze of his hand.

Oikawa squeezed back, knowing that Suga was right, but feeling comforted by the promise anyway.

Fifteen days needed to pass quicker, Oikawa thought for the umpteenth time just that day, just as they came to the apartment building. He pondered on the likeliness of being able to build a time machine of his own as they ascended the stairs.

He was pulled abruptly from his unlikely possible calculations when Suga stopped just inside the apartment, his feet barely over the threshold.

“What?” Oikawa asked curiously from behind him.

“Do you hear that?” Suga asked as his answer, and Oikawa listened, comprehension filling him and a grin spreading on his lips when he recognized the faint sounds as well.

“Either someone is watching porn in our apartment, or we’re going to have to change the sheets,” Oikawa joked as Suga stepped inside as if he was on a mission to kick someone’s ass – which was very probably going to happen – kicked his shoes off as he dropped the bag he had been carrying to the floor and probably smushed some bags of chips into little crumbs, and took off towards the hallway with an annoyed huff and a slight stomp in his steps.

Oikawa chuckled as he watched Suga disappear down the hallway, bend down to pick up the bags Suga had dropped and took them to the kitchen to put their groceries away.

He heard the bang of a door opened, and muffled his laughter at Suga’s insensitivity by biting his bottom lip. As soon as the door banged, the moans and harsh breathing stilled.

“Oh, hey, Suga,” someone who sounded unmistakably like Hanamaki after he’d ran a marathon said. “Do you want to join us?”

Oikawa could sense the murderous glare in Suga’s eyes, and he wasn’t even anywhere in his vicinity.

“You have your own apartment,” Suga said to Hanamaki, his voice a little clipped with how frustrated and angry and disappointed he must’ve been feeling. “Why the hell would you have sex in our bathroom?”

The tone of exasperation and pure incredulity of someone’s gall and stupidity in Suga’s voice cracked Oikawa up again, and he continued to put the groceries away with a silent chuckle.

“We hear Oikawa continuously complain that you can’t have shower sex because it’s too small for that.”

“So we decided to test it out.”

“You couldn’t have just gotten into the shower, see that you both _can’t_ _even fit to stand there,_ but you two actually had to try and have the sex there too.”

“Well, duh.”

“Besides, we were already horny and the apartment was empty so we decided to take advantage of it.”

 _Oops,_ Oikawa thought with a quiet snicker as he threw the crumbled chips to the tall cupboard. _That was the wrong thing to say, now, to Suga._

“Get out,” Suga commanded, proving Oikawa’s thoughts right.

“Why? You don’t tell Kuroo to leave whenever he sexts with Tsukishima in here.”

“Get. Out.”

There was a brief pause, and Oikawa imagined Hanamaki and Matsukawa calculate their chances of getting out of the apartment alive if they talked back anymore. He leaned back against the counter with an evil smirk on his lips, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he waited for his friends to come out. He somehow found it funny whenever Suga scolded anyone, and usually tried to enjoy it as much as he could.

“We’re going, Suga,” he heard Matsukawa say, and only a short moment later the two fornicators came to the kitchen, sloppily pulling a shirt on and hastily zipping up their jeans.

“What’s with Suga?” Hanamaki whispered, his words rushed, when he noticed Oikawa.

“It’s not you he’s mad at,” Oikawa answered the unasked question in a casual manner. “He’s just frustrated because we hadn’t had sex for a while.”

Hanamaki raised his eyebrows but looked utterly serious. “How long of a while?”

“A while,” Oikawa shrugged.

“Are you two still here?” Suga shouted from the hallway, or maybe his bedroom now, in the middle of Oikawa’s shrug. “It’s not fair that other people get to have sex in our apartment when I’m not getting any.”

“If I were you, I’d get on that right away,” Matsukawa suggested with a faint grin, but his brows furrowed with what must’ve been concern, as he gestured with his thumb towards Suga’s voice.

“We haven’t had the time lately,” Oikawa explained the lack of sex. “Or any chances when the apartment was actually empty and we both were here and awake.”

“You’re both here now.”

“And you’re here as well,” Oikawa pointed out with a cocked eyebrow.

“We’ll be going. Lock the door after us,” Hanamaki offered.

Oikawa shook his head. “Suga has to leave in less than an hour to the gallery. We don’t have the time,” he sighed with disappointment.

Honestly, he was really feeling the effects of building up frustration and bent up sex drive, only lying when he tried to downplay it.

“That’s plenty of time for a handy,” Hanamaki smirked.

“I want to do more, though,” Oikawa smirked back.

“If I come out there and see Makki and Mattsun with their cocks out, I’m going to develop magic powers from the ass of a demon and whip them silly with a pink candy cane shaped fairy wand, sold with a freaking silver plastic crown and pink and lilac fairy wings, all of which I pulled out from the air because I just suddenly can do that!”

Oikawa’s lips split with a wide amused grin. “You should go.”

Hanamaki was already about to go to the front door when Matsukawa stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” Matsukawa told Hanamaki. “I want to hear his next threat.”

As amused by Suga’s threat as Oikawa was, the couple in front of him seemed even more excited, wearing matching grins.

“It might be the last before he kills you in a very graphic way,” Oikawa warned, his words undercut by his grin. Secretly, he wanted to hear Suga’s next threat as well.

“I’m going to get something to drink, and if the two thirsty asses are still here, I’m going to cut off their fingers with dull kids’ scissors so they can feel every excruciatingly slow snip, decorate the fingers with hot glue gun and glitter, and present them as ‘finger food’ at the picnic on Sunday, make them eat their own fingers.”

“Wow,” Hanamaki mouthed at Matsukawa, his eyes wide with what could’ve been either awe or fear.

“I’m serious,” Suga’s voice was dark as he was suddenly standing by the hallway, looking at all of them with his arms crossed in front of his chest, his expression dark and downright murderous.

“We’re going,” Hanamaki startled to move, pulling Matsukawa after him.

Oikawa watched them go with poorly veiled amusement from his perch by the counter, while Suga came to the kitchen and went straight to the fridge.

“Babe,” Oikawa started lightly as he observed Suga study the contents of their fridge, making his way slowly to Suga to wrap his arms around him from behind. “Try and loosen up a little.” He kissed Suga’s neck, trailing sweet kisses up to his ear. “If you go to the gallery with that stormy expression, you won’t be able to charm the pants off of the possible buyers,” he whispered before he pulled back a little but still staying pressed against Suga’s back.  

Suga turned his gaze to him, but it did nothing to actually scare Oikawa as he rest his chin on Suga’s shoulder. “I’m too wound up to loosen up,” Suga said, closing the fridge, his hand shaking a bottle of smoothie.

“I know,” Oikawa replied with sympathy, in between kisses he continued to leave on Suga’s neck. “What time do you come back tonight?” Maybe, if Suga didn’t come back too late they could get to the sex, finally, and end their two week long unintentional dry spell.

“Late,” Suga answered with a sigh, stepped around in Oikawa’s arms to look at him, his free hand cupping Oikawa’s cheek to give him a quick kiss. “I have to shower before I go.”

Oikawa kissed him back quickly, before Suga could slip away from him, and watched Suga’s ass as he walked away from him. “It’s too bad that Makki and Mattsun’s experiment wasn’t successful or we could try the shower sex too!” he called out after Suga when he’d already disappeared into the hallway again.

“They were fucking on the sink!” Suga called back. “And there’s lube everywhere now!”

Oikawa chuckled, despite being a little disgusted knowing that he’d have to clean up after other people’s sex.

“They were using your lube, by the way,” Suga added, probably after he heard Oikawa’s chuckles. “The expensive kind.”

Oikawa’s chuckles stopped abruptly, his smile dropping from his face as he got serious. “I’ll be at Makki and Mattsun’s,” he informed Suga, already hurrying to the door, on his way to beat the two up for using his expensive really good lube, the lube he’d saved up to use with Suga.

It really wasn’t fair that the two had tried to have sex in their apartment when they were suffering a dry spell.

It was even more unfair, and incredibly inconsiderate of the couple to make unauthorized use of his lube.

He was going to come up with some threats of his own, thinking hard as he took long strides, taking two stairs on one step.

 

 

...

 

 

Hanamaki and Matsukawa had been absent from their apartment ever since, and Oikawa liked to think the two had listened him and actually taken him seriously when he told them they were banned.

It was a shame no one else had taken heed of his and Suga’s subtle hints that maybe they could have some time alone...

Oikawa mourned that very loss of privacy as he heard the muffled sound of a front door closing that woke him up before his alarm had had the chance to ruin his dreams. He couldn’t tell from just the sound of the door whether someone had come in or left, but was cautious enough to lean towards the latter, which was usually the case anyway.

Ever since Akiko had left, three freaking weeks ago, their apartment had been unusually busy with their friends coming and going, for company and fun, for food, for comfort and a willing listener – the last usually only been Suga.

Oikawa was almost fully convinced that they all came just to make sure that he and Suga couldn’t have more than five minutes of time just for the two of them, and they already had so little time to spent together.

“Where are you going?”

Oikawa halted in rolling over and out of the bed at the question and glanced behind him to Suga, who had grabbed the back of his shirt, preventing him from leaving.

“Shower,” Oikawa replied, rolling back to kiss Suga good morning. “And then to get dressed.”

“No, stay,” Suga said, his eyes closed and overall impression of him to still be asleep.

Oikawa smiled fondly at him, caressed his cheek and leaned for another kiss. “I have to go to work,” he whispered, and quickly rolled out of the bed before Suga could stop him, or talk him into staying.

“Why’d you have to go and get a job?”

Oikawa groaned as he stretched, reaching his hands high up in the air, his fingertips almost brushing on the ceiling. “To pay for stuff,” he answered and went to his closet to pick up clothes. “For rent, food,” he listed as his eyes roamed the shelves. “Lube,” he added as an afterthought with a smirk that he offered to Suga. Then his expression darkened as he remembered how thoughtlessly his so called friends had wasted his precious lube.

“I have money to pay for all of that. You don’t need to work.”

Oikawa scoffed at Suga’s words. “You’re not seriously suggesting being my sugar daddy.”

“I’m not completely not-serious.”

Oikawa smirked to himself at Suga’s wording, pulling a shirt from the shelf and turning to choose pants. “What a roundabout way to say that you’re not really joking,” he chuckled quietly, pulling out the pair he’d had in his mind when he chose the shirt.

“I bet you’d be a good sugar baby.”

“I’d be the best,” Oikawa agreed, and boasted. “But I think I’d be more suited for the role of a sugar daddy.”

“I don’t.”

Oikawa heard the teasing, the hint of tongue-in-cheek in Suga’s tone.

“I do,” he bantered back, closing the closet door as he was armed with the clothes for the day.

“Want to have a try?” Suga peeked with one eye open from under the covers.

Oikawa hated how fast his mind took to the implications sugar baby – sugar daddy relationship had, how he and Suga might fit to it. “Stop suggesting dirty things to try and get me back to the bed,” he resisted, though weakly. Honestly, nothing sounded better to him than going back to bed, with Suga, on a gloomy looking day.

“You’re boring,” Suga quipped.

“I’m insulted,” Oikawa shot back deadpan. All of his energy and efforts went to keep his resolve not to return to the bed.

Suga’s following chuckled sounded mischievous and Oikawa mistrusted the sweet smile on his lips. “Come back to be and I’ll make it up to you.”

Oikawa took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to keep his head. “You know I can’t,” he said, not only to Suga but to himself too, to the little voice inside his head that was more than just simply eager to follow Suga’s siren call.

“If you leave me alone,” Suga spoke slowly, adopting a threatening note into his voice, ”you’re not going to get your socks back.”

Oikawa looked down to the clothes he’d picked up, to the pair of balled up socks on top of the small pile. “My socks?” he looked back to Suga as he asked.

“I’m going to take every single pair and give them to a better home.”

An endeared smile spread on Oikawa’s lips as he braved to step closer to the bed, his knees almost touching the edge. “You’re so weird,” he mused fondly. “Why am I attracted to you?” he wondered out loud, not really expecting a serious answer.

He still got it.

“Because I’m weird. That’s why,” Suga stated, as if it was obvious.

Oikawa still liked to think that he wasn’t that simple, or easy to tempt.

“Sure,” he still half-agreed with Suga, casting a look at the time, and sighed.

The sight of Suga looking up at him, asking for him to return to the bed was compelling him to forget about the shower and work. But he couldn’t. He wanted to be independent and do his own work to earn his wage. He was too proud to ever accept being someone’s sugar baby, as alluring of a thought it was to be pampered, as lovely as the idea of spending the whole day and maybe a week in the bed with Suga was.

“So?” Suga asked. “Which is it? Giving your socks up for adoption or joining me?”

Oikawa inhaled, fortifying himself for the decision he had to make. “Shower,” he said as decisively as he could muster in such a pinch. But he was a little bit weak man for Suga, especially in the mornings, and most especially when they hadn’t had sex for weeks. Not that sex was the only important part of their relationship. He just really liked sex with Suga.

And with that single thought in his mind, and maybe a little bit in other parts as well, he placed his free hand on the mattress to bend down and give Suga a quick kiss. He couldn’t leave Suga without one after all the persuasion Suga had tried on him. He needed to reward Suga for his hard work, as unsuccessful as he had been. And maybe to give himself a little treat for being able to resist. Did he mention how long it had been since they’d had sex? And how much he adored Suga?

But he only gave the lightest kiss imaginable, so fleeting you’d miss it if you blinked, and he pulled away from Suga before he could let himself be pulled down to the bed, by his own weak will or by Suga’s strong arms.

“You’re a cruel man, Oikawa Tooru,” Suga called after him when he hurried out of the room.

Oikawa shot a look over his shoulder just as he opened the door, with a wink and a grin, closing the door on Suga’s pout.

“I’m going to give the socks to Kuroo, and in the absence of his boyfriend, are you sure you want to relinquish your socks to that fate!” he heard Suga’s yell through the door.

He didn’t want to think of what someone else might do with his socks, but he was confident that Suga wouldn’t actually give his socks to anyone.  He knew how much Suga liked vacuuming them, just to hear that funny sound of a “shlorp” as they were sucked in.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga knew how empty his threat was, and he knew that Oikawa probably knew it as well.

He just couldn’t help himself. He was needy, and horny, and wanted an orgasm _now,_ thank you very much. And then afterwards some soft kisses and cuddles.

 What he really didn’t need was teasing, chaste and unsatisfying kisses that were even more of a tease, and the mental image of Oikawa naked in a shower, the water cascading down his back, his chest, the water drops clinging to his skin, his arms flexing as he shampooed his hair –

Suga sat up abruptly, in middle of his thoughts to stop them from going further, or lower on Oikawa’s body. He made a note of the time and counted the hours of too little sleep he’d gotten. He didn’t usually wake up when Oikawa did, and when he did, he usually fell right back to sleep.

But this morning was different for some reason, it would seem, or maybe just a little break from the usual, and he decided to make most of it.

Kicking the covers off of him, Suga got out of the bed and went to the kitchen. Strangely, it was empty of another living soul, and he could make the coffee and some quick breakfast for Oikawa so it was ready when he got out of the shower, dressed, or maybe with just a shower wrapped around his waist, his hair wet, a couple of water drops slowly trickling down the chiseled chest –

Suga tipped his head back with a frustrated huff.

He needed to occupy his mind with some mindless tasks and he racked his brain for something to do as he watched the coffee drip.

“Good morning, Suga,” Kuroo greeted, looking happy and tired when he came.

Suga returned the greeting with a small smile, his mind preoccupied in its task to come up with something else to think than Oikawa in the shower, or how he might look coming out of it.

“Oh, you made coffee, excellent,” Kuroo said excitedly, already reaching for a clean cup from the dishrack.

“It’s for Tooru,” Suga told him.

“All of it?” Kuroo asked with a raised eyebrow, eyeing the amount of coffee that had already dripped down.

“Yes, stay away,” Suga replied, sending a dark look towards Kuroo  in warning for him to keep his hands away.

“Pwease?” Kuroo pouted, a ridiculous look on him, and Suga adamantly shook his head.

“Keep your hands off the coffee, fiend” he warned one last time before he started towards the hallway. Somewhere along the way his mind had come up with something for him to do, something that had sprouted from thinking about beds, for whatever reason.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa took his sweet time in the shower. He knew he had the time for it before he’d absolutely had to leave for work so he wouldn’t be late. He took his time when he shaved his face with precision and dried his hair with care. He took his time so he wouldn’t have the time to fall back into bed with Suga, in the case that his boyfriend was still there.

When he made it back to his bedroom, mostly dressed and in search of his contact lenses, he found Suga making the bed. He paused at the doorway for a blink of an eye to see what Suga was doing, and then with a smirk took a running start to jump onto the bed, landing in middle of it and sprawling to take up as much space as possible.

“Thank you, that’s very helpful,” Suga stated placidly, his voice so toneless it was sarcastic all in itself.

Oikawa beamed, teasing him, and started to make “snow angels”, making even more of a mess of the sheets. “You’re welcome,” he said as meaningfully as possible, his graciousness dripping in his tone like an overfilled jar of honey that Winnie the Pooh had taken a dip in. “Why are you making the bed?”

“Because that’s what I usually do when I get up?” Suga answered, looking a little confused by Oikawa’s question.

Ever since Akiko had come to visit, he and Suga had slept in his bed, and every night that Oikawa went to sleep he found the bed made, which was only possible if Suga had made it when he’d gotten up, probably hours after Oikawa had already left for work.

Oikawa rolled onto his side, rising up a little to rest on his elbow. “I thought you wanted to kiss me in the bed.”

Suga paused, actually stilling mid-movement, the duvet held in his hands in mid-air. Oikawa relished in the stunned look on Suga’s face, even if it only lasted for a few seconds.

“Now you want me back to bed to kiss me? Now that I’ve already gotten up?”

“Okay,” Oikawa pushed himself up and scooted to the edge of the bed to sit there, Suga’s tone urging him to take action, sensing that he was about three seconds away from stomping away in frustration.

“Don’t get mad,” he placated, reaching for Suga’s hands before he could cross his arms in front of his chest, where they were already moving to. “I was just teasing you. Come here,” he said softly, gently pulling Suga towards him and to his lap.

“You’re horrible,” Suga said deadpan as he settled, straddling Oikawa’s thighs.

“I know,” Oikawa smirked, knowing how little Suga actually meant his heatless remark, his hands finding their places on Suga’s hips, fingertips grazing on Suga’s skin under his shirt.

“I hope you like cats.”

Oikawa chuckled under his breath and kissed Suga tenderly. Just a kiss first but one that turned into two, and three, and four – all sweet and short.  

“Stay home today,” Suga whispered sweetly into the fifth one.

Oikawa smiled at the idea, wanting so very much to do so, as he moved his arms to wrap them around Suga to keep him pressed close to him when he leaned back and slowly fell to lie on his back.

“Can’t,” he whispered back, and Suga dropped his head to burrow his face into Oikawa’s neck, his lips nestled into the dip by the collarbone. “Why don’t you stay home today?” he suggested.

“Can’t,” Suga replied, parroting Oikawa’s words and lifted his head up for their eyes to meet. “I made you coffee,” he said, his fingers buried into Oikawa’s open hair.

“Yeah?” Oikawa breathed, delighted by the mention of coffee, excited with Suga’s fingers gently gripping his hair.

“And breakfast,” Suga added, his eyes moving on Oikawa’s face, like he was cataloging everything in it, memorizing it. “I’d hate for it go to waste.”

“Me too,” Oikawa agreed wholeheartedly, a little bemused, wondering why Suga would bring up the coffee and breakfast. “But we have some time before I have to leave,” he said, his tone suggesting that he would very much like to spend that free time making out with Suga. He enforced his tone with a subtle but deliberate roll of his hips against Suga’s.

“Stop,” Suga let out a breath and a low whine, his fingers tightening in Oikawa’s hair and eyes closed.

Oikawa chuckled darkly, understanding Suga’s frustration, his mind in the same gutter and ass in the same sleigh going fast downhill.

“Your breakfast doesn’t have any extra time, though,” Suga opened his eyes, taking a deep breath as if calming himself.

Oikawa moved his hands back to Suga’s hips, pushing their hips together again, and holy hell! if that didn’t amazing.

“Seriously, stop,” Suga protested with a weak voice and he pushed himself to sit up. “Kuroo is going to hear us.”

“He’s here again?”

Suga took another deep breath while his head bobbed in a single nod.

Oikawa sighed deeply, closing his eyes to swallow his disappointment that they couldn’t have the apartment just for the two of them for ten minutes. “We need to start locking the door for the nights.”

“I know,” Suga sighed too as he moved slowly to get off of Oikawa. “I agree,” he added in a grave tone, fixing his clothes to hide the most of what had been growing in his pants. “Come on.” He offered his hands for Oikawa to take and pulled him up as well. “Breakfast awaits.”

Oikawa followed Suga to the kitchen, silently cursing Kuroo in his mind.

“As I understand it,” he said when his eyes landed on the unwanted guest sitting by the kitchen island, sipping something from a cup with loud slurping. “You’re getting regular paychecks again.” He placed his hands on his hips as he regarded Kuroo. “Why are you still eating our food?”

“Because I miss Tsukki and I need company,” Kuroo answered straightaway.

“How much longer till he comes back?” Suga asked gently as he moved past Oikawa to the coffee maker, from the tone of his voice assumedly more understanding of Kuroo’s longing for his boyfriend than Oikawa was.

“Another month.”

At least Kuroo wasn’t getting regularly laid either, Oikawa thought bitterly as he sat down.

“So we have to see your ugly mug here for another month?” he still asked with distaste put on for show.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Kuroo asked with a lopsided grin.

“Not really,” Oikawa answered with an indifferent shrug. Kuroo was finding too much pleasure in their dry spell in his opinion, and he needed to think of payback.

“I’m hurt.” Kuroo feigned dramatically with a hand placed on his chest.

“And I want to be alone with my boyfriend, _in our apartment,”_ Oikawa shot back, the cup filled with coffee and sweetened just like he liked it slid in front of him by Suga going almost unnoticed.

“Lock the doors then,” Kuroo offered the simple solution.

If only it was that easy, Oikawa thought as he looked at Suga with exasperation lacing his expression. “When are the new locks going to be installed again?”

“In two weeks,” Suga replied without missing a beat, tapping his index finger on the post it –note stuck on the fridge door.

“Can you already imagine the absolute bliss that the uninterrupted mornings are going to be?” Oikawa asked dreamily, his chin tilted up to face the ceiling, his eyes closed as he imitated imagining the heaven that a morning alone with Suga would be.

It was as if the karma and had heard him and magically brought his dreams to a crashing halt when the front door opened to loud Tanaka and Nishinoya, trailed by Bokuto and Akaashi, the latter already immersed into a conversation with Kenma, and a couple of seconds later just before the door closed after them by Matsukawa, mysteriously without Hanamaki, who must’ve left for work already.

“You’d be bored without us around,” Kuroo said with a cocky, knowing grin.

“We’ll see,” Oikawa replied confidently while everyone’s chatter filled their apartment.

Suga came to sit next to him, moving the chair so he could lean against his side, with a cup of tea Oikawa had missed him prepare.

Oikawa relaxed with Suga’s warmth gently seeping into him through his shirt, Suga’s head on his shoulder like a puzzle piece that was meant to fit perfectly. He followed the conversations around him, finding to his hidden surprise that he didn’t mind the company, the laughter and many voices talking over each other.

Seeing them all, looking happy in their kitchen, feeding themselves with the food he and Suga had bought... It was a lovely sight, Oikawa had to admit as he sipped his coffee.  

“This is why I need to work too,” he said under his breath to Suga so his voice wouldn’t carry to the others. “It’s not just you and I that we have to buy the food for. It’s out many children that we have to keep fed as well.”

He felt Suga’s body shake with his silent laughter, and looked down to see Suga smile wickedly up at him. “They can starve. I don’t care.”

Oikawa let out a breath of a chuckle, the air surprised out of him. “How can you be so loving one second and dismissive the second?” he asked in awe.

“I’m weird,” Suga shrugged as he lifted his head up from his shoulder to drink his tea. “I thought we already established that. By the way,” he suddenly leaned forward to see past Oikawa. “Do you want socks, Kuroo?”

“Don’t you dare,” Oikawa cut him off, his threat about the fate of his socks still fresh in his mind.

Suga giggled softly, leaning back and towards him. “Kiss?” he demanded quietly, somehow managing to be heard over the loud bustle of everyone gathering food for breakfast.

Oikawa acquiesced easily, granting the wish with a tender press of his lips on Suga’s.

“Okay, I won’t dare,” Suga said and kissed Oikawa again before he could pull back too far.

“You two are cute,” Nishinoya noted when he came to lean casually to the island across from them.

“I bet they still haven’t had sex,” Matsukawa butted in.

Oikawa merely glanced at the two with annoyance, catching the time from the microwave behind Matsukawa’s head. It was time for him to go or he’d be late. With a sigh he downed the last of his coffee, lukewarm now but he drank every last drop in the cup.

“I have to go,” he said with regret to Suga, ignoring everyone else of course. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he whispered for only Suga to hear right before he kissed him, hands cupping Suga’s cheeks as if he was the most valuable thing in his life and the most precious thing in the world.

“It’ll be late.”

“I know, it’s okay. I’ll wait up,” Oikawa assured, going for a last chaste kiss, hoping it was enough for him to endure the long day ahead without Suga’s kisses. “Don’t kiss anyone else while I’m gone,” he joked as he stepped away.

“No promises,” Suga joked back, squeezing Oikawa’s hand one final time before he had to let go.

Oikawa, however, stopped as if he’d walked to a wall, grabbing tighter to Suga’s hand just as they were about to let go since their arms couldn’t reach further, and stepped back to him.

“I won’t,” Suga changed his answer with an amused smile, his eyes bright with mischief.

Oikawa’s lips curled into a small smile as well, and he pressed the smile to Suga’s lips, eagerly slipping his tongue inside Suga’s mouth as soon as the chance came, feeling possessive of his boyfriend.

Suga wasn’t shy about responding to the kiss, his arms wrapped around Oikawa’s waist to keep him close between his legs, while Oikawa’s hands were once again cupping Suga’s cheeks and tilting his head to accommodate the deep, passionate kiss, built slowly from their earlier kisses and teasing touches and banter like the sun rising in the mornings, becoming brighter and warmer.

“Do you realize you’re not alone?” Kuroo’s voice asked from somewhere far away. “You’re putting on quite a show for us.”

“Yeah, we know,” Oikawa smirked when he broke apart from Suga’s lips to take a breath, before he dove back in, as if Suga was the source of his oxygen, the air that he needed to breathe instead of the bottomless sea that his deep kisses actually were. He slid his other hand to the back of Suga’s head, fingers threaded into Suga’s silky hair.

“That was a preview,“ Suga added when they took another break to breathe. “It’s five thousand yen if you want to see the rest.” He turned his head to look at Kuroo and the other spectators, his hand reaching over the island, his palm open to accept the money, his smile coy and cheeks flushed, hair tousled by Oikawa’s hand.

Oikawa knew it was a mistake to kiss Suga with such abandon, and now seeing the results, he really regretted that he had to go to work. But he didn’t really have a choice. He didn’t want to call in sick only three weeks after he’d started and give the impression of an unreliable employee.

“Are you serious?” Tanaka asked, sounding incredulous, eyes wide and mouth gaping as his gaze shifted between Suga and Oikawa.

“You have to pay to find out,” Suga said, curling his fingers in a grabbing motion.

“I seriously can’t tell whether you’re serious or not.” Tanaka looked to the others, asking for help.

“He’s horny enough to be serious,” Oikawa stated mildly, more of a joke than a serious accusation. He was still holding onto Suga, subconsciously unable to part away from his side.

“But you’re leaving,” Nishinoya said. “So there can’t be more of this.” He gestured to Suga and Oikawa.

“Guess you’ll never find out what would happen, then,” Suga shrugged, patting Oikawa’s hip and angling his head for one last kiss. “Go to work. I’ll see you tonight.”

Oikawa smiled at the gesture and kissed Suga one more time, reluctantly letting go when the time was pressuring for him to do so.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa heard the lock turn, and he looked up from the book with confusion and with a hint of excitement. He was sure it would be Suga coming home, but he shouldn’t be coming home yet.

Alas, he was disappointed when he recognized his best friend open the door, instead of his boyfriend. But –

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said as he closed the door after him and made a little wave with his other hand.

“How are you here?” Oikawa asked intelligently, confused. The door was locked, the downstairs door was always locked. Which meant that Iwaizumi must’ve used a key to have access to come inside, but where did he get a key? Did he use the key Suga had given to Daichi years ago?

“I used a key,” Iwaizumi stated the obvious, kicking his shoes off before his soft footfalls carried him to the living room.

“That’s obvious,” Oikawa stated back. “Daichi’s?”

“No.” Iwaizumi sat on one of the couches, gently patting Kumamon’s head while he did so.

“Where did you get a key to our apartment then?”

Iwaizumi looked at him for a long time, during which Oikawa’s patience grew thinner than a spider’s web. He didn’t know what Iwaizumi was waiting. For him to realize where he’d gotten the key, maybe? Anyway, he was about two seconds away from barking his question with frustration and irritation.

“I used the key you gave me when I stayed here.”

Oikawa’s frustration shriveled into nothing and his irritation turned into intrigue.

“The key you were supposed to only have for the time you stayed here and you were supposed to give back?”

“You never asked for it back,” Iwaizumi said with a satisfied, but small, smirk.

“Are you willing it to give it back?” Oikawa held out his hand for the disputed object.

“Not really,” Iwaizumi shook his head. “I like having it. It’s the only key I have.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I enter a code at home, at work, at the gym.”

“What about your car?”

“That doesn’t count.”

Oikawa sighed, returning to his book. “You’ll have to say the key a goodbye in two weeks,” he said casually, turning a page and attempting to immerse himself into the alternate universe of a science fiction filled world.

“Why?”

Oikawa could’ve been mistaken, but he rarely was, but his best friend sounded a little sad.

“Our locks are going to be changed. No more keys.”

“Why?”

“Because of progress?” Oikawa shrugged, not really too preoccupied or worried or particularly interested to know why their locks were going to be changed.

The reality was that soon he’d have to hear the obnoxious beeping sound every time he came home as he entered the code to open the lock, and he’d accepted it by now.

“Can I still keep the key even if I can’t use it?”

Oikawa moved his eyes slowly to look at Iwaizumi. “Why’d you want to do that? The key’s going to be obsolete.”

“I don’t know. It reminds me of simpler times. You know, remembering to take your keys with you when you leave so you can get in.”

“Right,” Oikawa said, a smirk slowly growing on his lips. “It’s still going to be nothing but decoration on a keyring.”

“I still like it.”

“Whatever,” Oikawa shrugged, his eyes back on the book, looking for the line he’d left off on. “But just because you have the key doesn’t mean that I’m automatically going to give you the code to the downstairs door.”

“Why not?”

“You have to earn it.”

“I’m not doing you any favors so I could have the code to the downstairs door from you when I’m sure I can get it for free from Makki and Mattsun.”

“Ask it from them then,” Oikawa said, nonplussed.

“What about the code to your apartment door?” Oikawa saw from his periphery Iwaizumi gesture towards the door in question.

“I’m pretty sure Suga is going to give it to Daichi, you can get it from him.”

“It would mean more if you gave it to me.”

Oikawa hummed, thinking it through. He didn’t actually have anything against Iwaizumi having the code, he just liked to tease him, maybe make him work for it a little bit for his amusement.

“I’ll think about it,” he promised, trying to hide his mischievous grin, schooling his face into nonchalance. “What are you doing here anyway?” he asked when he came to the embarrassingly slow realization that the motivation behind the visit was unclear.

“Since Suga’s been gone for most of the evenings, I thought I’d come and keep you company.”

That was admittedly kind of sweet of Iwaizumi, Oikawa had to admit. But... “I haven’t exactly been alone even if Suga hasn’t been here, and I locked the door with the specific idea to be alone.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, you can stay,” Oikawa permitted, turning the page in the book in an effort to keep reading. “Can I ask you something?” he looked up from the book, the question coming to him from a long line of thoughts he’d had for the past month.

“Something kind of personal,” he added as a warning, an unspoked way to let Iwaizumi know that he could refuse. “I know we have the agreement that we don’t discuss our relationships and the sex we have in those relationships –“

“What do you want to ask?” Iwaizumi cut him off in his curt way.

Not that Oikawa minded. But he needed a moment to find the nerve to go ahead with his question. There was a reason that he and Iwaizumi didn’t talk about sex with each other. The reason being their past together.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi prompted, and Oikawa brought out his shield of cocky self-confidence.

“How long have you and Daichi gone without having sex?”

“Why?”

“Just wondering,” Oikawa shrugged, trying to give the impression that he didn’t really care. Which he didn’t. He just needed an opinion about something that he did care about.

“How long have you and Suga been without now?”

Oikawa was disturbed that Iwaizumi knew about that and he let it show on his face. “How do you know about that?”

“I went to the movies with Mattsun the other day. He mentioned how Suga caught them trying to have sex in your shower. And how pissed Suga was and you told them that you hadn’t had sex because you’ve been busy.” Iwaizumi spoke calmly, as if reading the news of a teleprompter. “He also mentioned something about threats to drown him and Makki in lube filled aquarium?”

“Right...” Oikawa mused, his mouth in a small pout, hiding his grin at the cleverness of his threat, even if he’d practically taken a page out of Suga’s book for that particular threat. Since... Suga had once threatened him with it... When he’d teased him...

“How long has it been since you last had sex with Suga?” Iwaizumi asked again, pulling Oikawa from his thoughts that were about to turn steamy at an alarming ease.

“About three to four weeks,” Oikawa cleared his throat.

“And Suga is still functioning? How?”

“Because I’m worth waiting for.”

“Right, of course. I forgot for a moment who I was talking with.”

“Anyway, is that normal?” Oikawa asked with a slight wince, embarrassed that he had to ask, and from his ex-boyfriend!

“You said you two have been busy,” Iwaizumi said blithely, but Oikawa got the impression that he was a little uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Once you’re back on your normal schedules I’m sure you’re back to having sex every other day.”

“Every day.”

Iwaizumi frowned, however he looked more confused than angry, like he didn’t quite understand how Oikawa’s words had anything to do with what he had been saying. “What?”

“Since the first time we had sex, we had sex every day, until we had a fight and then Akiko-san came and then I started to work and then – You know what, forget all that other stuff. We had sex every day. That was the important piece.” A weird flex, maybe, to say to your ex-boyfriend who you’re still friends with.

“And Suga is still functioning normally? Not climbing telephone poles?”

Oikawa let out a sharp exhale. He wanted to move on to something else to talk about. He started to feel the uncomfortableness ebbing from Iwaizumi, and how it crawled on his skin. “Do you think there’s going to be a day when those are going to disappear altogether?” He latched onto the first thing he could think of.

“What? Telephone poles?”

“Yeah. I mean, with cell phones, and with less and less landline phones there’s not much need for them anymore.”

“I guess in the far future they’ll be gone. Like phone booths.”

“I think it’ll be in the near future rather than far future.”

“Does this line of conversation have something to do with the book you’re reading?”

“Not really. Just something I sometimes think about.”

A brief silence followed Oikawa’s statement, broken by Iwaizumi silent chuckle.

“You’re all over the place,” he said with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“I know,” Oikawa sighed, abandoning the book on the coffee table.

“You really need to have sex with Suga.”

“Tell me about it,” Oikawa moaned, hoping that the remaining seven days would speed by.

 

 

...

 

 

 

Oikawa came to, to the weird and shadowed state between being awake and asleep when the mattress moved, and a moment later a warm body snuggled up to him.

He recognized the body, or his body recognized the body, his senses picking up on the familiarities.

“I missed you today,” he said quietly, whispering into the darkness and silence surrounding him. He brought his arm to wrap around the back of the warm body settled against his side, his hand on the head that was pillowed on his chest.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Suga’s whisper floated through the air to him, his voice a soft caress, soothing him to return back to his dreams. “Go back to sleep.”

“I was awake,” Oikawa yawned, his mind somewhere far away and at the same time very much in the presence, alight with happiness now that his boyfriend was next to him again. “I told you I’d wait up.”

“You were asleep.”

Oikawa heard the small chuckled carried within Suga’s words.

“I’ve been quietly moving around the room as I got ready for bed and you were definitely asleep through it.”

“I was awake,” Oikawa insisted softly, too sleepy to put more effort into it.

Suga chuckled, his body shaking a little. “Go to sleep.”

Oikawa hummed, the feeling of Suga’s body lulling him into peace, squeezing Suga tighter against him by bringing his other arm to wrap around him too.

“By the way...”

“Hm?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Suga said casually, but his voice still hushed not to break the lull of silence that blanketed them. “Do you have work?”

“In the morning,” Oikawa answered instinctively, his schedule memorized.

“What are you doing after that?”

Oikawa’s brow furrowed as he tried to think. “I don’t have any plans yet,” he realized, his thought process slowed down by the late hour, and the fact that _he had been asleep._

“Want to spend the day with me?”

Oikawa liked that. “What do you have in mind?” he asked, knowing that he’d be up to just about anything with Suga, and already guessing what they most likely were going to do if they both were going to be home at the same time, and awake.

“Locking the door.”

A slow smirk grew on Oikawa’s face. “Can’t wait,” he admitted, kissing Suga’s forehead, or what he assumed was forehead, and later confirmed as he ran his fingers through Suga’s hair.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I only wrote them going through the dry spell so I could put in the threats. How did you know? 
> 
> (Btw, has anyone noticed how I lose steam as the chapter goes on? I start with a lot heavier descriptions of what is going on, and in the end it's mainly just dialogue. Weird... I need to consider editing shorter chapters...)
> 
>  
> 
> to be continued:   
> (I'm going to give this teaser of a pretty insignificant line because something very significant is about to be mentioned later and I don't want to spoil it yet) 
> 
> “We’ve been officially dating for about two months, Suga-chan.” Oikawa spoke conversationally while Suga kept sharp watch over him that he didn’t open his eyes and spoil the surprise. “And I’m not a hundred percent sure that you wouldn’t try to kill me. What does that tell you?”
> 
> Oh, and, "Glasses pt.2" is going to be in the next chapter (I say to that one person who is probably the only one who gets what this means)


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, I finally make more use of the 'mature' rating, Suga and Oikawa make use of every room in the apartment - even the bathroom ;) And everyone else has to suffer because of it. 
> 
> ...
> 
> (*psst* You're going to love me for the last scene)

 

 

 

 

Suga inhaled deep as he woke up slowly, shifting a little under the sheets, the swishing sound of them against his skin filling the quiet room like a gentle sound of a summer breeze moving the grass. As he exhaled, waking up more, coming more into his senses, he felt the arm draped over his chest, the warmth pressed to his side, the weight of a body.

He took another deep breath as he blinked his eyes open, adjusting slowly to the darkness of the room, thanks to the closed curtains. He turned his head to the side, to look at the body next to him, to confirm that it truly was his boyfriend next to him.

He smiled as he took in the familiar, handsome face, the strands of hair escaped from the high ponytail spilling on the pillow. He rolled onto his side, carefully so not to jostle Oikawa and wake him up, and brought his hand on Oikawa’s cheek. He felt the soft, barely-there scratch of Oikawa’s morning shadow against his palm, and somehow it made him experience a soft jolt of happiness – as if it solidified to him that yes, this was Oikawa, this was his boyfriend, he was real, he was here, he could touch him and kiss him and love him... He could be happy with him... He _would_ be happy with him...

He moved his thumb on Oikawa’s cheek with utmost tenderness, while his gaze moved slowly on Oikawa’s features, taking him in – the relaxed innocent expression when his personality wasn’t awake, the subtle redness of his lips, and the perfectly maintained arch of his eyebrows. And everything that was behind that all, what made Oikawa _Oikawa._ What made him love Oikawa.

It was still early, if the sunlight wasn’t trying to shine through the thick material of the curtains, and Suga decided to go back to sleep. He pressed his lips against Oikawa’s in a soft kiss, and pulled back to stroke his cheek one more time, before rolling over.

“Don’t – ” Oikawa said, his arm flexing and palm pressing on Suga’s back to keep him where he was, surprising Suga thoroughly.

“ – roll away any further or you’ll fall off the bed,” Oikawa continued after the initial, what Suga now understood was a warning, peeking one eye open to take a look at Suga before he closed his eyes again.

“Huh?” Suga asked, confused. He had thought that Oikawa was asleep. And why was he telling him not to roll over?

He turned his head to look behind him, as much as he could with Oikawa’s strong arm keeping him in place, and saw that he was, in fact, at the edge of the mattress.

“You keep shuffling away from me whenever I cling onto you when we sleep. I hug you or cling onto you, and you move away, and I move after you to hug you again, and you roll away again,” Oikawa said, his eyes still closed, but the thumb of the hand pressed on Suga’s back moving slowly back and forth, starting up little tingles under Suga’s skin, further waking up him, igniting the tiny nerves in his body.

“One of these days you’ll fall off and I’m going to laugh my ass off,” Oikawa smirked.

Suga pushed lightly on Oikawa’s shoulder in retaliation for what he said, but wasn’t actually offended at all, chuckling a little at the idea of falling off the bed in his sleep because he couldn’t subconsciously get away from Oikawa fast enough.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said when Oikawa’s body moved smoothly back where he’d been from the slight shove.

“I woke up when you kissed me,” Oikawa replied, still looking very much asleep.

“And I was trying to be so careful,” Suga mused, his hand taking a hold on Oikawa’s arm to pull himself closer, to sneak his leg between Oikawa’s.

“Now I know you like me,” Oikawa teased with a half a smirk.

“Oh, crap,” Suga said sarcastically.

Oikawa chuckled, pulling and pushing Suga even closer, to kiss him. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Suga said back with a happy little smile, moving his hand from Oikawa’s arm to his shoulder and over it to end up behind his neck, his palm smoothly gliding on Oikawa’s skin, and kissed him back. He brushed a couple of strands of Oikawa’s hair behind his ear.

“I’m sorry.”

Suga saw how Oikawa’s brow furrowed, and when he opened his eyes to look at him with confusion.

“That was a random thought,” he commented. “What are you sorry for?”

“For always moving away from you during the nights,” Suga spoke softly, quietly, in a gentle whisper, afraid to say the words out loud in fear of them becoming more malicious that way.

“I don’t mind,” Oikawa replied earnestly, in a soft whisper as well. “I’ve told you I don’t mind and that’s still true.”

Suga hummed, relieved and pleased to have the reaffirmation.

“Besides, I don’t think you move away because you have anything against me, or snuggles in general. And I’m not a specialist in the ways of a human psyche, but I think it’s probably something you build when your dad died, something about being independent and taking care of your mom when you two were left alone without your dad, thinking you don’t need anyone.”

Suga thought about it, and knew that Oikawa must’ve been at least a little right.

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t need to be,” Oikawa comforted, his hand trailing up and down on his back and over his waist and side in long, smooth and gentle, strokes. “I told you I don’t mind.”

Suga held Oikawa’s fond, but sleepy gaze, and believed every word.

“I’ll just keep chasing you,” Oikawa added with a grin and a wink.

Suga laughed lightly, shortly. “You’re the first of my boyfriends who doesn’t mind,” he said, taking interest in the way his fingers had idly started to twirl Oikawa’s hair.

“I’m obviously far superior to all of them,” Oikawa stated a little cockily.

Suga laughed at his confidence and sense of superiority, and pressed closer to kiss him.

“You’re naked,” he broke away to say.

“So are you,” Oikawa said in the same deadpan delivery.

“You’re also hard,” Suga pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

“Why do you sound like it’s beyond belief, or unthinkable? It’s morning and I’m in bed with my naked boyfriend.” Oikawa sounded almost affronted, but Suga knew better, already smiling more and more. “Who’s naked ass I’ve been fondling for the last five minutes but who hasn’t said anything about it.”

Suga snickered. “I wanted to see how long you’d keep doing it without me saying anything about it.”

“I guess now we’ll never know,” Oikawa shrugged, like he wasn’t all that bothered by the missed opportunity.

Suga felt the slight flex of fingers on his asscheek, and tried his best to stifle his snickers. “You’re still touching it,” he told Oikawa, who probably was very much aware of what he was doing with his hand.

“Yes, I know,” Oikawa said, smug and proud.

They looked at each other for a moment, a charged and prolonged moment. When Suga was sure he could feel the static in the air on his skin, raising the hair on his arms, goosebumps popping up, Oikawa spoke.

“Want to fuck?” he asked in a low voice, sultry and intense.

“Yeah,” Suga breathed, and Oikawa fluidly moved on top of Suga, one of his legs between Suga’s. “You’re going to have to prep me a little though.”

“I got you,” Oikawa assured, the low hum of his voice traveling under Suga’s skin in shivers he could feel at the end of his fingertips and toes, his lips moving down Suga’s jaw and the side of his neck to his collarbones, meeting the marks he’d left behind last night.

 

 

...

 

 

“Is the door locked?” Bokuto asked as he came down the stairs at the same time that he saw Yaku try to open the door to the apartment of Suga and Oikawa.

“Yep.”

“But I need breakfast,” Bokuto said with a small pout.

Yaku turned to look at him with a subtle incredulity-raised eyebrow. “Don’t you have food at your apartment?”

“I do,” Bokuto admitted. There was no way Akaashi would ever let their kitchen go empty of food. There was always something to eat, even if they both sometimes, usually, preferred to eat at Suga and Oikawa’s. “But it’s more fun to eat Suga and Oikawa’s food.”

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa woke up for the second time that morning, to the small ding, or beep, or chirp – indistinguishable sound in his half-asleep state.

He stretched, felt how his joints popped here and there, the soreness of his muscles, and how sated he felt. It had been about a month since he’d felt _this_ good.

His body registered the warmth next to him shift before his mind did, but once he was caught up, he opened his eyes. Suga had reached for something from the floor, where their clothes probably were strewn around, taken off in hurry and passion.

“What time is it?” he asked from Suga’s down bended form.

“Almost noon,” Suga answered without a hitch, without looking up.

“What was the noise earlier?”

“Tanaka asking for one of us to kindly come and open the door because he’s hungry,” Suga replied as he pulled his upper body back to the bed.

“Not going to happen,” Oikawa denied, closing his eyes as he pulled Suga to him, snuggling close so his nose pressed to Suga’s neck, his arms squeezing tighter around Suga, as if he could fuse Suga’s body to his for forever.

He felt more than heard Suga laugh, the shaking of his body against his, and then the contented sigh as Suga settled down, as if being held in Oikawa’s arm was the best place in the world to be.

Oikawa knew, that if they fell asleep now, Suga would roll away at some point. He took a peek over Suga’s shoulder to make sure they weren’t too close to the edge, so Suga wouldn’t fall off and potentially hurt himself. Even though he would most definitely laugh if it happened, he didn’t want Suga to get hurt.

Pleased with the space on Suga’s side of the bed, he closed his eyes again, more than happy to fall back asleep.

“You’re still hard,” Suga’s voice whispered. “Or, hard again.”

A slow grin grew on Oikawa’s face.

“I’m aware,” Oikawa whispered back, letting Suga take the lead if he wanted to do something about it. He could tell Suga was hard too, or quickly getting there.

He was so glad he waited and let Suga come up with the solution.

“Want to ride me this time?”

Oh, so very glad.

“Yes,” Oikawa confirmed. “Want to watch me get ready?”

“Always.”

 

 

...

 

 

“Is the door _still_ locked?” Kuroo asked, awed, and a little bit horrified, as he jumped over the last two steps before the second landing.

Akaashi hummed in response, already turned away from the door and moving to the stairs Kuroo had leaped from.

“What kind of a sex marathon are they having?” Kuroo wondered out loud, looking at the door as if it would magically open up to show them what was happening inside. He was actually impressed by their stamina, if they really were still having sex. “It was locked the whole day yesterday, and now it’s already afternoon.”

“An intense one, apparently, if they can’t be bothered to come and unlock the door,” Akaashi replied, looking unbothered as he started to climb up the stairs to the floor above.

“Do you guys have food?” Kuroo called after him.

“We’re probably going out for lunch,” Akaashi called back in a much more subtle and polite tone of voice. “You’re free to join us if you want to.”

Kuroo took a second to think it over, his empty and growling stomach making up the decision for him. “When?”

“Once Bokuto is dressed.”

Kuroo chuckled silently to himself, thinking how Oikawa and Suga apparently weren’t the only one who’d had sex that Sunday.

 

 

...

 

 

Oikawa hummed contently as he wrapped his arms around Suga from behind, gently leaning his chest on Suga’s back and placing a tender kiss on the corner of his jaw.

“You’re awake,” Suga noted in a soft tone.

“Mm,” Oikawa hummed again, nosing on Suga’s neck. “I woke up and you weren’t in the bed.”

“I was hungry, and I figured that you would be too when you woke up so I decided to make us something to eat.”

Oikawa hummed against Suga’s neck as his lips traveled on it, leaving kisses here and there, making sure to hit every bruise and blemish he’d left on Suga’s skin. His mind and body were hungry for more than just food, but he figured they should eat, to gather some energy, to later sate the needy fire in them.

“Do you want coffee?”

Oikawa gave it a moment’s consideration, feeling the ache for caffeine somewhere deep within him, overpowered by everything else he needed almost desperately. “Yeah.”

Suga reached along the counter to flip the coffee maker on, unable to take a step closer to the machine with Oikawa pressed against his back and his arms wrapped around his waist, anchoring him in place.

“You’re still naked,” Suga commented nonchalantly as he returned to making the breakfast – a breakfast they were about to have in the late afternoon.

“And you’re not,” Oikawa said, mourning the fact that Suga had put clothes on – an old, thin and worn t-shirt he must’ve grabbed from Oikawa’s closet, and the same boxers Oikawa had pulled off of him the day before.

“Well, yeah, the blinds are open.” Suga looked out the window.

Oikawa didn’t care about the blinds being open. He didn’t care if anyone saw, which would be impossible when they were so far away from the window and slightly hidden behind the counter, when he slipped his hand into Suga’s boxers and wrapped his fingers around him.

“Tooru,” Suga said, maybe meant it as a warning for him to stop. “Stop.” Which it most likely meant, but it sounded a little breathless, and Oikawa wondered how much Suga really wanted him to stop.

He moved his hand along Suga’s length, gently squeezing and twisting his hand.

“Tooru,” Suga said again, with more force behind it now, his hand coming to Oikawa’s bare asscheek and grasping it lightly, the dull points of his fingernails digging into the skin. “At least let me replenish my energy before you work me into another dry orgasm because I’ve been dried up.”

Oikawa huffed in amusement, but let up on the started handjob. However, he didn’t move his hand from Suga’s boxers, his senses overtaken by something new when had moved a little. He pressed his nose to Suga’s neck, and inhaled, taking a stronger whiff of the smell wafting in the air, clinging to Suga’s skin and not overpowered by the strong smell of the brewing coffee.

“Did you shower? You smell clean?” he asked, his voice still a little muffled by the haze that was clinging onto him, turning everything around him softer and more velvet, like taking a dip in a pile of rose petals.

“I did,” Suga answered, reaching up to the cupboard and bringing down a cup. “Your coffee is ready.” He held the cup up in view over the shoulder for Oikawa to take.

“The cup is empty,” Oikawa said, denying Suga’s statement that his coffee was ready.

“I meant that you can take this cup and pour yourself coffee,” Suga said with a hint of a fond exasperation in his tone, a smile on his face as he looked at Oikawa over his shoulder.

“My hands are busy,” Oikawa said, making a show of their placement on Suga’s hip and inside his boxers. He pressed his nose to Suga’s nape to take in his scent, so _Suga_ that it was intoxicating in and all of itself.

“I got to tell you, Tooru,” Suga said, putting the cup gently down on the counter. “You smelling me when you still got your hand wrapped around my dick is a little weird.”

Oikawa let out a surprised chuckle in the form of an exhale, and slowly withdrew his hand from Suga’s boxers. “Sorry,” he chuckled, and placed a trail of small kisses down the other side of Suga’s neck.

“It’s okay,” Suga chuckled with him, holding the cup form him again to take.

With one last kiss pressed to the back of Suga’s head, Oikawa took the cup and moved to pour himself some coffee, and then past Suga, who was hopping to sit on the counter, to the fridge to chase the bitter taste of coffee away with sweetness, to simply add milk.

“You’re really not supposed to sit on the counter,” Oikawa scolded mildly with a fond smile as he moved to stand in front of Suga and in between his legs. He put the cup down on the counter next to Suga but some distance away so it didn’t accidentally get knocked over, and brought his freed hands on Suga’s thighs, slowly trailing them up along the smooth skin to his hips.

“I’m taller than you now,” Suga replied with a soft grin, a happy glint in his eyes, his hands gently placed on Oikawa’s shoulders.

“No, you’re not,” Oikawa denied immediately, a knee-jerk reaction.

“Yes, I am,” Suga said and moved his face closer to showcase that the tip of his nose would touch Oikawa in middle of his eyebrows.

“Stop tilting your chin up,” Oikawa laughed, his fingers on Suga’s chin to tilt it down to the normal angle.

Suga laughed as well, acquiescing easily, and locking his ankles behind Oikawa’s back, his arms slung around Oikawa’s shoulders so his wrists were crossed over Oikawa’s neck.

With Suga’s skin meeting his at his back, around his waist, over his shoulders and on his chest, Oikawa was reminded that he was still very much naked. He didn’t let it bother him, deciding to ignore the mismatched state of their clothing and kissed Suga, sweet and loving, lingering and not enough.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put anything on?” Suga asked when he broke away, his gaze dipping down and biting his bottom lip when he looked up.

Oikawa smirked, flattered how subtly and under the surface flustered Suga looked at his nakedness in middle of the afternoon in middle of their kitchen.

“I’m sure,” he affirmed, kissing Suga again, thoroughly and with ardent need.

“This really is quite the turn on,” Suga mused, his fingers running through Oikawa’s open hair, his eyes steadfastly locked with Oikawa’s when they broke away for a quick breath.

“What? Me naked?”

Suga hummed in confirmation, nodding eagerly with a coy smile.

Oikawa chuckled as he brushed his fingers down Suga’s chest, drawing invisible line on Suga’s skin in between the small bruises his lips and teeth had left behind.

He saw how Suga shuddered with a fullbody shiver, and lifted his eye to meet Suga’s.

It was an unspoken and mutual _“yeah”,_ when their lips crashed together.

Oikawa brought his hand up, behind Suga’s neck, to keep him in place, not just to kiss him, but to _devour_ him. He could not get enough of Suga.

It was unfortunate that they needed to breathe too, but Suga didn’t stray far when they broke the kiss, but his lips moved to leave chaste kissed on Oikawa’s cheek, along his jaw, and predictably but not in the least unwantedly down his neck.

A gentle knock from their front door pulled Oikawa from fully enjoying Suga’s ministrations, his soft lips and searing kisses, his touch as his hands roamed on his naked torso.

“Should we get that?” he asked, his breathing labored and a moan threatening to break out when Suga worked another hickey just under his collarbone, adding to the already impressive collection decorating his skin, not too different from the mosaic of red, blue and violet on Suga’s skin.

“Don’t you dare move,” Suga broke away from Oikawa’s neck, and going right back in, his legs wrapped around Oikawa’s hips bringing him closer, pressed to the counter, the corner of the countertop digging into his flesh, into the love bites Suga had left there as well.

Oikawa felt laughter bubble inside his chest, and he pressed it to Suga’s shoulder.

The knocking sounded again, but they both ignored it, favoring to tune into each other instead.

Oikawa moved his hand from cupping Suga’s neck down along his spine, his fingertips barely grazing on it in a way that he knew elicited shivers for Suga.

Suga moaned brokenly under his breath, bringing out a pleased grin on Oikawa’s face. Hearing Suga’s need, and feeling it growing against his hip, he was quick to grab a hold on Suga’s ass as he pulled him off the counter, and started to carry him to the living room.

The couch would be a more comfortable place to fuck than the kitchen counter.

“No, bedroom.” Suga kicked back from Oikawa’s hold steered them away from the couch he was leading them to.

“Why?” Oikawa was confused, feeling the jarring feeling of stopping something that he was fully and passionately into.

“Kumamon is watching.”

“Martin is in my room.”

“He’s an alien. He doesn’t understand what we’re doing.”

“And Kumamon does?”

“He’s seen Daichi and Hajime get each other off. Trust me, he understands what we would be doing.”

Oikawa couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him at the horrified and disapproving sound of Suga’s voice.

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, letting Suga keep steering him down the hallway.

“And there’s nothing in my room that could watch us have sex,” Suga pointed out.

“It’s been ages since the last time we did anything in your bed.”

“I know. Let’s get to it.”

 

 

...

 

 

Asahi knocked on the door of Suga and Oikawa’s apartment, and waited patiently.

“Don’t bother, they won’t open the door,” he heard a voice say from the steps behind him, and turned to see Kuroo climb up with Bokuto and Akaashi.

“Are they home, though?” Asahi asked, getting a little worried. Why wouldn’t Suga or Oikawa open the door?”

“Yeah, just busy trying to make it to the Guinness book of records for the longest sex marathon.”

“Oh,” Asahi blushed.

“Did you need something from them?”

“You should text them. They seem to check their phones whenever they take a snack break,” Akaashi advised, as placid as ever. Although, Asahi still got the feeling whenever Suga’s sex life came up in a conversation when Akaashi was around, that it was rehearsed and a little forced placidness.

“Yeah,” Asahi agreed to the idea. “I’ll text them,” he said, knowing that he wouldn’t do such a thing now that he knew they were having sex. If Suga was finally going to get rid of the tension that made him feel uncomfortable to be in his own skin, there was no way he’d disturb them.

 

 

...

 

 

“You’re done with the workshop now, right?” Oikawa asked, taking a sip of his coffee, freshly brewed when they’d emerged from Suga’s room, both now dressed so they weren’t naked, but not enough to leave the apartment or in a state to be in front of other people. He was yet to brush his hair though, and wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what kind of nest sat on top of his head, left behind from sleep and the many rounds of sex.

“Kind of,” Suga replied, taking a bite of the earlier interrupted and briefly forgotten breakfast. “I have to go to the gallery next week to help everyone set up for the exhibit.”

Oikawa instinctively pouted, cutting Suga off on his response when he laughed a little at the sight of the pout and thumbed it softly before he placed a soft kiss there.

Pleased by the kiss, Oikawa stopped pouting, and sipped more coffee as Suga continued.

“And then I want to be at the exhibit on Friday, the first day.”

“You ended up liking the workshop,” Oikawa said with a knowing smile.

“I did,” Suga confirmed with an open smile and a small nod, looking away from Oikawa for a second to eat another bite of ‘breakfast’. “Once I got to know everyone it was really fun.”

Oikawa hummed, having suspected that Suga would end up loving the workshop. It was nice to see it on Suga’s face as he spoke, in the tilt of his head, and to hear the hint of an enthusiasm in his voice.

“As weird as it was in the beginning that people were looking up to me, and people older than me asked for my opinion,” Suga added, more as an afterthought.

“Proud of you,” Oikawa whispered, leaning closer to Suga to kiss him. “I kind of want to go to the exhibit to see what everyone made.”

“You can,” Suga said with a reaffirming nod, looking pleased that Oikawa wanted to be a part of the art side of his life.

“But after Friday, you’re going to be home more regularly?”

“Well, I have the trip to Kyoto the next Monday.”

Oikawa sighed, dropping his head on Suga’s shoulder. “I completely forgot about it.”

“It’s only three days. I’m sure we’ll survive.” Suga ran a comforting hand down Oikawa’s back and up to his nape to curl his fingers in the hair there.

“Hey,” Oikawa lifted his head off of Suga’s shoulder to look at him. “Can I ask you something about that?”

“About what?” Suga asked with an open expression.

“Everyone was surprised that we managed to not have sex for a month –”

“You say that like it was a conscious choice we made,” Suga commented, cutting him off briefly. “’Managed to’, like we decided to try if we can make it a month without sex, and look at that, we succeeded.”

Oikawa smiled at the sarcasm in Suga’s voice, and patiently waited until he was done before he continued.

“Yeah, we managed,” he agreed. “But what my point was,” he moved on, stressing the words as he brushed Suga’s overgrown hair that was now completely covering his eyes to the side, “was that everyone was surprised that you didn’t climb telephone poles to get off. So, how did you not climb telephone poles?”

“You make me sound like I’m some sex crazed teenager.”

“You are,” Oikawa stated in jest, frowning at the silly idea that Suga would be anything but a sex crazed teenager.

Suga giggled, turning his head away and covering his mouth with his hand, his other hand still curled into Oikawa’s nape.

“I think,” he sobered up quickly to say, turning back to look at Oikawa, albeit a little shy, subtly avoiding direct eye contact. “I think it was the period after I broke up from Yu- from Terushima, and before we got together that did it. Like, I evolved from constantly needing the release of stress and anxiousness that accumulated from all the things I kept to myself, no matter how big or insignificant they were, to handling them better, to coping better with them. I mean, I was horny all the time then –“

“I remember,” Oikawa smirked, recalling an instance when Suga came home huffing with frustration because he hadn’t gotten dick in months.

“But in the end, I didn’t want to have sex with someone else when I was living with you.” Suga looked straight into his eyes. “When I liked you,” he added softly.

Oikawa blinked slowly and kissed Suga softly.

“I love you,” Suga said when they broke apart.

Oikawa smiled, and kissed Suga again, his hands on Suga’s ass bringing him closer and pressing their bodies flush together. The kiss tasted sweeter, as if Suga’s sweet words had made it so.

 

 

...

 

 

“I swear, if the door is still locked tomorrow, I’m calling the cops,” Nishinoya threatened, speaking to Tanaka as they returned one floor down to their apartment, disappointed and hungry. “And an ambulance, and Iwaizumi to bring his work buddies.”

“They’re just having sex,” Tanaka mused.

“It can’t be healthy to have that much sex.”

Tanaka hummed absent-mindedly, not sure if he could really say anything, for he had no idea how much sex was too much sex.

 

 

...

 

 

Suga leaned his forehead on Oikawa’s nape and took a deep breath, his hands securely on Oikawa’s hips, flexing a little against the flesh and bone when he heard Oikawa hum quietly. His hands didn’t stay on the hips for long, before they were sliding forward, one of them tipping into Oikawa’s boxers.

“I am brushing my teeth,” Oikawa spoke through the foamy toothpaste, the toothbrush in his mouth, protesting just a little. But only a little, and less and less as Suga’s warm hand wrapped around his cock.

 “Come back to bed,” Suga spoke against Oikawa’s neck, his lips brushing on the delicate and marked up skin there.

Oikawa closed his eyes as he felt he light scrape of teeth on one of the hickeys. He would have to put some serious work into covering them when Monday came, or the prepubescent kids he coached would have a field day at the sight.

“In a bit,” Oikawa replied, his words still a little garbles as he kept brushing his teeth.

“Or,” Suga drew the word out, his hand excruciatingly slowly jerking Oikawa with the lightest and simultaneously tortuous touch. “I could blow you here.”

Oikawa met Suga’s eyes through the mirror, Suga peeking over his shoulder with a dangerously sultry look.

Oikawa exhaled, his whole body moving with the force of it, and bent over the sink to spit and quickly rinse his toothbrush. Suga’s hand withdrew from inside his boxers and he moved both of them to Oikawa’s waist, already probably anticipating what the answer was going to be.

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed, dropping the toothbrush where it belonged as he turned around to face Suga. The day that he refused a blowjob from Suga at the precise moment that it was suggested would be the day that he could be diagnosed clinically insane.

Suga smiled once they were standing face to face, Oikawa leaning back to the sink and the counter behind him. They kissed, shortly but with so much passion they would’ve been burned by the intensity of it if it had lasted any longer. Suga dropped to his knees, taking Oikawa’s boxers off on the way.

“You’re too good at this,” Oikawa murmured with awe, not just meaning Suga’s sucking abilities, but overall how alluring everything Suga did was. He was already hard from the idea of the blowjob, and admittedly, probably from Suga’s earlier jerking ministrations on his dick.

“I’m not the one with a praise kink,” Suga mused out loud, his hands on Oikawa’s thighs as he looked up.

Oikawa chuckled as he grabbed the counter with one hand and tenderly slid his other hand into Suga’s soft hair.

“And since I won’t be able to talk much during this, you should consider me sucking your dick a compliment, a never-ending flattery, a slew of praise,” Suga continued with faux-seriousness, his narrowing a little as if he tried to look mean to deliver how serious he was, but only making it a little comical.

Oikawa would’ve said something about that, was about to banter back, but was unable to when he was forced to moan when Suga took his length in his mouth.

“Holy shit, Suga!” he shouted, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

Suga burst into laughter, falling back to sit on his butt on the floor.

Oikawa was butt-hurt for the briefest moment for Suga laughing at him, just a sliver of time passing before he was laughing too, thanks to Suga’s contagious laughter echoing in the bathroom, dissolving into light giggles.

“I’m not that good,” Suga managed to say through his laughter.

“You are, though,” Oikawa admitted, still quietly chuckling while Suga tried to gasp for breath on the floor. “Now, continue,” he said, gesturing to what had barely started yet.

Suga cleared his throat as he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down from his giggles, returning on his knees in front of Oikawa.

“At least you didn’t shout ‘Koushi’ this time,” Suga whispered, strategically right before taking Oikawa in again, forcing Oikawa to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from shouting expletives and marvels  for the whole universe to hear again.

 

 

...

 

 

“What’s up, Kenma?” Kuroo asked with a breeze when he opened his front door and saw his short friend standing there.

“Do you happen to know why Suga’s door is locked?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replied, biting down his grin. “But I’m pretty sure you don’t want to know,” he added with a meaningfully raised eyebrow.

“That’s all I needed to know,” Kenma confirmed with a nod, and lazily started to make his way down the stairs.

Kuroo smiled after his friend, thinking how precious and innocent Kenma was.

 

 

...

 

 

The next morning, Suga and Oikawa decided to take mercy on their friends and Oikawa left the door unlocked when he left for work.

He also left Suga alone to deal with the complaints and the whining of them ignoring their friends, cruelly keeping them in hunger, if he was to believe the texts Suga send him during the day to relay the complaints to him too, and generally just being mean and inconsiderate.

Suga listened patiently, offering apologies if he felt they were truly needed, but needed a breather from the onslaught of complaints of neglect and child endangerment, and decided to leave early for the gallery.

He wasn’t needed there for long, which was a little disturbing for him – if he was asked to help out beforehand, why wasn’t he allowed to help when he showed up? – but decided to make good use of the extra time he had and ran some errands on his way home, just picking up some stuff he knew they might need, and something that he’d had to wait to be ready.

He felt giddy as he made his way home through the evening crowd; he couldn’t wait for Oikawa to see him with them. He made sure to hide the item, to surprise Oikawa.

The lights were on in the living room when Suga got home, the theme of X-files playing, which wasn’t a surprise for him, and a clear telltale sign that Oikawa was home.

“Tooru?” he called, for he didn’t see the said man anywhere, until his head popped up from behind the back of the couch to look at him.

“Hey,” Oikawa smiled at him. “You’re actually home before midnight.” He sounded pleased by that fact as he spoke, sitting up while Suga made his way over to the couch to sit next to him, hiding the surprise inconspicuously in his hand just behind his back so Oikawa wouldn’t see it.

“I told you I wouldn’t have to stay late anymore,” he said, leaning in to press a short but sweet kiss on Oikawa’s lips as a greeting, a hello, an ‘I’m home’. “I actually managed to run some errands on my way home.”

“Oh? What errands?”

Suga lifted his bag from across his shoulder and set it gently on the floor. “We used up all the lube and condoms,” he grinned softly as he straightened from depositing the bag.

“I picked up a bottle on my way home too,” Oikawa told him, his hand coming up to brush Suga’s hair away from his eyes.

“At least we won’t run out for a while,” Suga shrugged, the gesture a little off with one his hands slightly held behind his back.

Oikawa must’ve noticed it, his eyes moving to the arm held behind Suga’s back. “Did you get anything else?” He sounded curious as he asked, moving his gaze back to Suga’s eyes.

“I have a surprise for you,” Suga replied with a short nod, smiling like he had the ultimate secret, mysterious and cryptic, somehow fitting well with the background music provided by the X-files, not too ominous and not too out there either.

Not that it would’ve mattered anyway in a second or two what kind of music was creating the atmosphere for them.

“What kind of surprise?” Oikawa asked, turning the tv off, plunging the apartment into silence, the anticipation rising to all new heights. He turned to sit sideways on the couch as well, crosslegged like Suga, facing him with a small gap between them.

“Close your eyes,” Suga instructed.

Oikawa did as he was instructed to, although taking a quick peek right after with opening one eye.

“Close your eyes,” Suga told him again, and Oikawa acquiesced with a smirk on his lips. “I’m not going to kill you,” Suga added with a light chuckle, bringing the hand from behind his back and opening the small case in his lap. “Don’t worry.”

“We’ve been officially dating for about two months, Suga-chan.” Oikawa spoke conversationally while Suga kept sharp watch over him that he didn’t open his eyes and spoil the surprise. “And I’m not a hundred percent sure that you wouldn’t try to kill me. What does that tell you?”

Suga’s smile widened with pleased delight that Oikawa hadn’t quite gotten him entirely figured out yet. The smile held for a moment before he was able to bite it down. “That you’re a smart man,” he replied seriously, levelling with Oikawa.

Oikawa took another quick peek with one eye, but closed it again, the smirk still in place albeit a little lessened. Suga couldn’t fault him for checking on him – he would’ve done the same if their roles were reversed right now.

But for payback for Oikawa’s impatience and lack of trust, Suga waited another moment to raise the anticipation before he slid the frames on.

Yes, he had bitten the bullet and gone to have his eyesight checked. Two weeks later, today, he went to pick his glasses up and was now ready to surprise Oikawa with the harmless secret he had kept only to himself.

Suga placed his hands on Oikawa’s knees, fingertips brushing on Oikawa’s thighs, biting his lip with nervousness he hadn’t anticipated, wondering if Oikawa would like him in glasses at all, and took a deep breath to settle the ball of nerves. He leaned forward just a little, taking advantage of the chance of just looking at Oikawa for a second and admiring how he looked with his glasses on.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

He watched closely Oikawa blink his eyes open slowly, already preening before Oikawa had the chance to say anything when his face opened with surprise.

“You got glasses?” Oikawa asked with awe, enthusiasm coloring his voice as he took in the new image of Suga in his glasses. He tentatively reached across the space between them to touch the frames, as if to check that they were real.

Suga hummed confirmation with a small nod. “I’m getting old,” he said with a smile, happy about the fascination Oikawa seemed to have about the spectacles.

“Now you don’t have to squint anymore at the movies,” Oikawa stated the obvious.

“I don’t have to wear them all the time,” Suga said, pushing the glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, a habit so instinctual and immediate it was a miracle he hadn’t been doing so his entire life. “I don’t need them to read. Really only to see better when I look far.”

Oikawa lifted and lowered the glasses off and back on Suga’s face, like he was comparing two images and trying to find the differences. _“Could_ you wear them all the time?” he asked reverently, putting the glasses gently on down on Suga’s nose.

“Really?” Suga cocked his eyebrow in question. He didn’t think they would make such and impact on Oikawa, even though he had wished for a reaction of some kind, and was glad with what he got.

“They suit you,” Oikawa said, his voice a little bit hushed, a husky quality in it all of a sudden. “You look really good in them.”

Suga beamed from the compliment. He hadn’t thought about wearing the glasses all the time, and he knew it would take some getting used to, especially when taking photos, looking through the viewfinder. And he didn’t need to wear them all the time. But he would definitely be happy to go through the trouble of wearing them in Oikawa’s presence if the man was so fascinated by them, absolutely unable to look away from him.

“I’ll probably need some time to get used to them,” he admitted out loud.

Oikawa’s hands settled on Suga’s cheeks, his thumbs softly brushing along his cheekbone. “You don’t have to wear them all the time if you don’t want to,” he said softly. “But I think you should.”

“Are you saying you prefer me with them on? That you don’t like me without the glasses anymore?” Suga asked, facetious of course, half of him only joking, but the other half really needing and honest answer.

“That’s not what I meant,” Oikawa shook his head adamantly, his eyes never leaving Suga’s, as if they were magnetized. “What I meant was that you should wear them so I get used to it or I’m going to jump you whenever I see you wearing them.”

Suga laughed into the kiss Oikawa drew him in, kissing him with passion, hands holding him tight and close.

Suga had no doubt that Oikawa meant every word with everything he had in him, just based on the way Oikawa didn’t let up on kissing him, both of them quickly breathless but unwilling to break apart even for a fraction of a second to take a good inhale in so they could continue with the same rhythm. Oikawa’s hands slid from Suga’s cheeks, down his neck and over his shoulders, running down on the sides to end up on his hips and pulling him even closer, while Suga wrapped his arms around Oikawa’s neck, almost climbing into his lap.

Sadly, with their front door unlocked, they were interrupted, as was the norm, and Kuroo walked in.

“Is this another preview?” he asked, alerting them to his presence.

They broke apart, absolutely breathless and gasping as if they’d ran a marathon in a world record time. Oikawa dropped his head to the crook of Suga’s neck with a sigh.

“We need to start locking the door every day,” he whispered into Suga’s collarbones. “No matter what.”

Suga smiled sympathetically at Oikawa’s words, somewhat agreeing with him, gently rubbing Oikawa’s back in comfort. In a week they wouldn’t have to worry about it.

Unless...

Maybe they should come up with a sign or something when they wanted the apartment only for the two of them, since he was planning on giving the code to unlock their door for their friends for emergencies.

“I interrupted something, didn’t I?” Kuroo asked, seating himself into the armchair, his hands behind his back in a very relaxed, and with the grin on his face, a little leery way. He didn’t seem sorry at all that he’d walked in when he had.

“What else is new?” Suga asked. “It’s a standard procedure nowadays that we are interrupted whenever we make out if the door is unlocked.”

“Don’t leave it unlocked then,” Kuroo offered the simple solution to their problem. Except...

“Our customer service doesn’t have the manpower to deal with the complaints that would follow the locked door.”

“Sorry,” Kuroo chuckled, definitely not sorry at all.

Suga sighed, partly from the situation, partly from Oikawa leaving small and chaste kisses on his neck, trailing upwards, his fingers flexing against Suga’s hips.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Suga told Kuroo.

“Yes he does!” Oikawa pulled up from Suga’s neck to look at Kuroo with indignation.

“If you insist,” Kuroo said flippantly, apparently ignoring Oikawa altogether and looking at Suga when he said it. “By the way, nice glasses.”

“Thank you,” Suga said, his fingers dancing on Oikawa’s thighs. He kind of wanted Kuroo to leave so he and Oikawa could continue with what they’d started.

Oikawa seemed to be on the same wavelength with him. He went back to Suga’s neck when he was ignored, apparently favoring kissing Suga to dealing with Kuroo. “Can you make him leave?” he whispered against the corner of Suga’s jaw.

Suga glanced at Kuroo, who was unabashedly watching them with a subtle self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Aren’t you at all weirded out watching us make out?” Suga questioned.

“Not really,” Kuroo shrugged, unbothered. “It’s actually kind of hot.”

“Too bad you don’t have the chance to get comfortable there,” Suga replied, getting up from the couch.

“Am I invited to watch you have sex?” Kuroo asked with enthusiasm so glaringly overdone he must’ve been joking.

“As if,” Oikawa scoffed, taking Suga’s offered hand and getting up as well.

“We were about to lock the door,” Suga told Kuroo.

“I don’t mind if I hear you,” Kuroo smirked with his tease.

Oikawa started to lead Suga by their intertwined hands. “Lock the door on your way out, Kuroo.”

Suga went with him quite happily, getting excited. He heard the front door close behind them just before they entered Oikawa’s room and Oikawa brought their lips together.

“Is it the glasses?” Suga asked with a smile, ready to tease Oikawa about it.

“Maybe a little,” Oikawa admitted, and closed the door before he pressed Suga’s back against it. “Did you wear a shirt with buttons on purpose today?” Oikawa asked, his nimble fingers opening Suga’s shirt.

“Maybe subconsciously,” Suga admitted, realizing it himself just then and there. Maybe he had expected Oikawa to react like this. And he was glad for it.

 

 

...

 

 

The week passed by quickly, less hectically than the ones before, but still quickly enough for it slightly surprise Suga when he realized it was Sunday as he made his way home that evening. But now he was free of the commitment he’d made for the workshop. And he was packed for his next work commitment – the blasted visit to Kyoto.

It was a shame that Oikawa couldn’t go with him, like he’d initially promised when Suga had told him about the trip months ago, before they were even dating. But now Oikawa had a job that kept him from tagging along.

Although, Suga thought to himself as he gazed out the train window, maybe it was good that he’d be going alone with Takeda. This thing in Kyoto... It was kind of a big thing. Suga knew it was, and hearing Takeda enthusiastically talk about it whenever they met for a meeting or spoke on the phone to confirm reservations for hotels and such only solidified it to him how big of a deal this thing was.

And he knew that had he told his friends how big of a deal it was, instead of just saying it’s a normal business trip kind of thing, they would’ve made it an even bigger thing.

He didn’t need that pressure. He was happy to simply take photos, and sell them to people for what they felt the photos were worth. Some went overboard with what they offered to pay, and Suga always felt a little bad taking _that much_ money for a single black and white photo of a swirl of a cherry blossom petals. He didn’t need the added fame that his successful exhibitions brought, the increase of request for him to do a photo shoot with some model for some fashion line.

He’d made up the decision of telling everyone what the whole thing was really about once he got back, and he was going to stick to that decision, making a promise of it to himself.

It was late when he got off the train and started the trek towards home, the camera in his hand just in case he saw something that caught his eye, even in the bright lights of the street lamps.

He returned home empty handed, though, not that he was too disappointed or worried about it. He wasn’t ready for another exhibit yet, although he had more than enough shots for one.

He ascended the stairs quietly, conscious of the time, and brought his keys out to open the front door, probably for the last time ever. He would’ve felt more nostalgic about it, maybe a little bittersweet, if his attention wasn’t stolen by bluish glow flickering in slow beats in the living room, catching him by surprise.

He had closed the front door quietly after him, so not wake up his boyfriend, certain that he would’ve been in bed by now, much like he had been during the workshop when Suga returned home this late.

He was still quiet and carefully tiptoed towards the couch with the back to the front door, and going round it to see that –

Yes, there was Oikawa, slumped a little in a sitting position on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching Stranger Things.

“How was your day?” Oikawa asked before Suga could get a word out, glancing at him with a fond smile from the corner of his eye.

“Exhausting,” Suga admitted, blinking owlishly as he smiled back, pleasantly surprised that Oikawa had waited up for him. He let his camera bag fall onto the ground, slipping off of his shoulder with a soft thud. “How are you still up?”

“It’s Sunday, I slept in.”

That made sense, Suga had to admit as he sat down sideways on the couch, next to Oikawa to give him a kiss. “But it’s late,” Suga said softly.

“And I had coffee,” Oikawa smirked, his hand behind Suga’s neck to bring him to another kiss.

“It’s past midnight,” Suga chuckled weakly, placing his hand on Oikawa’s chest to pull away from the sweet kiss, to see him better in the darkness only illuminated by their tv.

“I wanted to be up to wait for you to come home,” Oikawa’s smirk softened as his thumb gently rubbed on Suga’s neck. “Before you’re gone for three days.”

Suga smiled softly back, shifting closer on the seat of the couch to lean against Oikawa’s side. “You’re really sweet.”

“I know.”

Suga couldn’t see Oikawa’s expression from where he was, but he could hear the smirk anew in his smug tone.

He smacked lightly Oikawa on his chest with the back of his hand, just a simple flick of his wrist.

“And I hoped that since this is our last night together for a short while, we could have sex,” Oikawa whispered, his lips tickling Suga, brushing on his ear.

 _Of course,_ Suga thought, pressing his face into Oikawa’s chest. He would’ve loved to have sex with Oikawa too. It’s just that –

“I’m too exhausted to have sex,” Suga mumbled against the cotton material of Oikawa’s shirt, his hand taking a strong grip on the material. He was certain that once he’d lie down, he wouldn’t get up until after a good solid twelve hours of sleep. “I’m sorry,” he looked up to apologize.

“Don’t,” Oikawa shook his head with a gentle smile. “Don’t apologize, it’s fine.”

Suga knew that it wasn’t okay – he certainly wasn’t fine with it – but was grateful for Oikawa telling him so.

“I do feel like having ice cream, though,” Suga mused quietly. The craving had been with him for the whole day, ever since that one annoying know-it-all had come to the gallery with the ice cream he allegedly churned himself, that unfortunately no one else but him was allowed to eat. The brat had made instant enemies with everyone at the gallery amongst his fellow artists with that rude declaration with those who already didn’t find him annoying and insufferable.

“Bring two spoons,” Oikawa replied.

Suga’s smile widened slightly as he sat up, pausing only to give a quick kiss on Oikawa’s cheek before he got up. He shed his, or really Oikawa’s, hoodie that he’d taken with him to battle the chill of the early summer nights on his way to the kitchen, leaving it on a chair by the table, adding it to the pile of other clothes that had accumulated since his mother had left, a month ago. He made a mental note to himself to convince Oikawa to clear it while he was in Kyoto.

He made quick work of fetching the ice cream, his legs double timing on the steps to reach the freezer, the drawer for their utensils, and back to the couch. He settled back down next to Oikawa on the couch, pretty much how and where he had been, but draping his legs over Oikawa’s.

“How was your day?” Suga asked as he opened the carton and took a big spoonful, actually looking forward to the brain freeze in hopes that it would wake him up enough so they could have a quickie.  

“The usual,” Oikawa answered, licking his spoon clean before he went for more ice cream. “Finally started to binge this.” He gestured to the tv with the spoon, to the preteens investigating the unusual in their little town.

Suga watched Eleven eat the waffle, absently wondering how someone had thought to themselves that the main character would love Eggos. Maybe it was all just for endorsement of the frozen food.  

“You know, when I was a kid, I wanted to be an ice cream aficionado,” Suga said as the kids rode their bikes as fast as they could, the score in the background giving the perfect thrilling vibe to the scene.

Oikawa laughed at his disjointed thought that had come out of nowhere, and Suga quickly joined in on it. He loved laughing with Oikawa.

“I love you.”

Suga’s laughter died slowly, fading into silent daze, his gaze moving from the tv to look at Oikawa. First, he was sure he’d imagined hearing the phrase, but a moment later noticed the slight blush coloring Oikawa’s cheeks in a weird tint with the bluish and cold light of the tv.

 

 

 

“You love me?” he whispered, stunned by the confession when it had come out of nowhere, just like his earlier comment about his dream job had, somehow unable to believe that Oikawa had actually said the words, that he had really heard the words. He had sensed and seen, felt the level of affection Oikawa held for him, hinting at how much he loved Suga, but it was still amazing to hear the words.

This was the first time, that someone he loved, said “I love you” to him.

“Well, yeah,” Oikawa shrugged casually, as if he was totally cool with what he’d said, as if he wasn’t aware of how much this meant for Suga. “Hasn’t it been obvious?” He scooped more ice cream for himself, seemingly unperturbed by the confession and by Suga’s amazement, probably acting hard to appear nonchalant.  

“Not really,” Suga replied slowly, little by little coming to accept that this was happening, fully acknowledging that Oikawa had finally told him he loves him.

“What’s the big deal?” Oikawa asked with a faint chuckle, clearly amused. “You love me,” he stated the obvious.

Suga got the feeling that Oikawa hadn’t meant to tell him like this, that Oikawa had wanted to confess in a different way, at a different time. Maybe he had even planned something for the ‘big reveal’ of his true feelings for Suga. And maybe he was a little embarrassed that he’d let the words slip like this.

Suga smiled softly at Oikawa, his eyes tracking Oikawa’s features through the darkness, their living room barely illuminated when the cast was having an adventure in the Upside Down, absolutely delighted that Oikawa had finally confessed.

“Can you say it again?” he asked with veiled glee, his eyes shining with happiness.

“Isn’t once enough?” Oikawa teased, glancing at him with a grin, a spoon in his mouth.

Suga shook his head as a negative answer, smiling. “Not when I’ve said for weeks.”

Oikawa put his spoon in the carton with a sigh, but Suga wasn’t worried when he still saw the smile adorning his lips.

Suga’s eyes followed Oikawa’s movements as he put the ice cream away on the coffee table, turned slowly to look at him, brought his hands to Suga’s cheeks.

“I love you,” he said again, his tone serious but sweet, contrasting how he’d said it first while chuckling. “I love you,” he repeated, leaning closer to Suga. “I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing on Suga, sending sparks and shivers to travel haphazardly everywhere in Suga’s body.

Suga was ready to burst with all the happiness he was filled with, kept filling with. There was too much happiness accumulating inside his body to keep it all in, the first already spilled out in his soft and happier than ever -smile, his tear filled -eyes, his trembling hands and quivering heart.

“You love me,” Suga whispered back, stating now instead of asking.

Oikawa flashed a quick smile before he sealed their lips together.

Suga was quick to crawl into Oikawa’s lap, to straddle him, to be closer to him.

“Not tired anymore?” Oikawa asked with a teasing tone in the middle of the kissing.

Suga hummed his answer into one of those searing, devouring, sweetest kisses he’d ever had with Oikawa, wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s shoulders to keep him as close as possible, to press every point of their bodies together, to feel the steady warmth that Oikawa emanated.

Oikawa’s hands were moving on Suga’s body, leaving hot touches on his thighs, hips, waist, sides, back, and neck, _everywhere._

“Close your eyes, Kumamon,” Oikawa said as they repositioned to lie down on the couch, Oikawa between Suga’s legs and rolling their hips together at the earliest convenience.

Suga laughed, tilting his head back as he let the hilariousness out as unabashedly as possible, not keeping any of it in, while his body kept heating up with Oikawa’s wandering lips on his skin, revisiting the places where some of the hickeys from their sex marathon had already faded.

“You’re ridiculous,” he hiccupped through his laughter, gasping a little as he tried to take a breath to calm down.

“And I love you,” Oikawa stated, bringing their lips together, swallowing Suga’s laughter.

“Love you too,” Suga whispered back with reverence as he pulled Oikawa’s shirt off.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued: 
> 
> "Remember, phone sex."  
> ...  
> "Keep everyone away from our apartment tonight."  
> "I have questions."  
> "Too bad."  
> ...  
> "Suga-chan! That is amazing!"  
> Suga kissed Oikawa to shut him up.  
> "Nice try," Oikawa chuckled, leaning back a little with a smirk, shaking his head. "That's not going to work on me."  
> "Sure it will," Suga mused confidently, both of his hands holding Oikawa's head so he could kiss him, and kiss him again, and again.


	54. Chapter 54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a dilemma with this chapter, since I wasn't sure where to end it. It was a hundred pages long document on my computer, but I didn't want to update with such a long chapter, so I had to cut it off somewhere. That is all. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

 

 

Oikawa heard the creak in the hallway, the telltale sound of the soft footsteps, and knew Suga was getting closer, and didn’t even flinch when arms wound around his waist from behind and solid and firm warmth pressed against his back. He felt the faint brush of breath from Suga on his skin on his nape before he felt lips press lightly against it.

“You’re up so early,” Suga said, his voice coarse from sleep.

Oikawa hummed, acknowledging it and somewhat agreeing.

“You’re up early too.”

“I have to be up early, this one time, to make it to the train,” Suga got slightly defensive, nuzzling his cheek on Oikawa’s shoulder blade and arms tightening their hold around Oikawa’s waist for a moment. Oikawa could just about feel the movement of Suga’s jaw and cheek against his back as he spoke. “You don’t have to be at work for three hours.”

“Maybe I had plans of seeing my boyfriend before he leaves?”

“Your boyfriend sounds lucky,” Suga chuckled softly, sighing right after with contentment as he leaned on Oikawa, using him as his personal support to stand upright.

“He’s the luckiest to have me as his boyfriend,” Oikawa confirmed with a grin, and let out a choked sound when Suga squeezed his middle needlessly tight.

Suga’s soft chuckles continued when Oikawa acted like a battered squeaky toy, and relaxed his arms.

As Oikawa was able to continue to prepare their breakfast without the threat of being squeezed to death by a pair of arms that had quickly become his favorite pair of arms in the world, he cracked an egg over a bowl.

He was already on his third egg, cracking the shell on the edge of the bowl and opening it in two like a master chef, maybe with a bit of flair just to show off, when he registered Suga’s hands slowly trailing over his torso, gently sliding up his sides and down to slip over his stomach and then up to his chest and down again.

“What are you doing? Are you trying to turn me on?”

“Wait,” Suga’s hands stilled and Oikawa felt the weight of his head lift off. “You have that switch? Where?”

Oikawa scoffed, but sounded like a laugh and grew serious as quickly as possible.

“No.”

“Hmm, shame,” Suga said contemplatively, like he was actually considering the absence of an on/off switch a tragedy. “Sex would be so easy.”

Oikawa decided to leave that particular comment ignored, and moved on, focusing on mixing the eggs in the bowl. “I was just wondering on your wandering hands.”

Suga hummed softly, his hands starting up again their travels on Oikawa’s body and he rest his head back where it had been, where it would’ve stayed if Suga hadn’t taken the detour to make a joke.

“I’m memorizing a feeling,” he whispered into the crook of Oikawa’s neck and shoulder, his hands slipping under Oikawa’s shirt.

He didn’t mind, and let Suga do what he wanted to as he continued on preparing them breakfast, pouring the mix in the bowl into a hot pan. He actually quite enjoyed the fleeting touch. It was soft, awaking his nerves with excitement, but not enough to warrant him to reciprocate. It was just Suga being touchy. It was cute, it was familiar, it was a form of affection.

Until...

“Are you sure you’re just memorizing a feeling?” he questioned when Suga’s hands’ movements were limited to the area near the waistband of his soft but light pajama bottoms, his fingers skimming over the narrow band holding the pants over his hips, as if hesitating on slipping inside.

“Okay, you caught me,” Suga said as he lifted his head up, like he’d given up on some grand mission of stealth, but not sounding too let down and actually far too breezy to be even a little disappointed that Oikawa had realized what he was up to. “I want to have sex.”

Oikawa couldn’t help but laugh, although he was kind of flattered how much Suga wanted him, every hour of a day, no matter the time or the date.

“We had sex last night,” he thought to point out when he managed to sober from his sudden fit of giggles.  “On the couch. _In front of Kumamon,”_ he said the last part with a faint hiss, to properly portray how illicit the act had been. “And you want more?” He cast a look over his shoulder at Suga.

Suga let out a long suffering sigh, closing his eyes and dropping his forehead on Oikawa’s back. “You told me you love me. Did you really expect me to not want to ride you?” he asked with exasperation, like he couldn’t believe that Oikawa even had to question it.

Oikawa fell victim to another bout of giggles. It was cute how Suga tried to hide his frustration and subtly show how needy he was without giving it away of the bat.

“Your libido is no joke,” he stated, fully serious as he started to feel the effects of it in him as well, starting to harden in his pants as Suga’s fingers kept flirting with the waistband of his pants, some of his fingertips under it and skimming on the sensitive patch of skin. And now Suga’s lips were pressing chaste kisses on his neck – he was not playing fare.

“I’m going to be gone for three days. And you don’t want to have sex?” Suga whispered, one of his hands leaving the waistband and sliding up on Oikawa’s stomach and chest.

“We don’t have the time,” Oikawa said, half-desparing about it as he glanced at the time on the microwave. He knew that Suga knew he was trying to play for time, to come up with a bulletproof excuse so they wouldn’t have sex, all the while concentrating on their breakfast as well so it wouldn’t burn. Not because he didn’t want to have sex with Suga, because, obviously, he’d like nothing more. But because they simply didn’t have the time. Suga would have to leave in an hour or so, and that time was already allotted for breakfast, shower, getting dressed and spending quality fluff time with yours truly.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a simple blowjob.”

Okay, two things were wrong about that statement, Oikawa thought immediately, and jumped to explain them with urgency and a little bit of indignation.

“First of all, there’s nothing simple about a blowjob that I give.” He held his hand up so Suga could see from his spot behind him over his shoulder, one finger raised.

Suga snickered against the hollow between Oikawa’s shoulder blades, his wandering hand under Oikawa’s shirt stilling in the teasing circles he was playing with around his nipple.

Oikawa held up a second finger next to the first one. “Second of all, there’s nothing simple about a blowjob that _I_ give.”

“Agreed,” Suga said with heavy sincerity in his tone, his lips pressing more kisses, dragging each and every one of them out as long as possible before moving onto another.

“And I know that you would drag it out as long as possible, keeping yourself from coming just so you’d have an excuse not to leave.” Oikawa softened his factual statement with putting his hand over the one under his shirt, just over his heart. “’Oh, Takeda texted me he’s waiting downstairs in a car? Too bad I’m still rock hard inside Tooru’s mouth. Guess I can’t go then’,” he mimicked Suga’s voice to comical proportions, ending up sounding nothing like him. Not even close with his voice so high-pitched. But it did make Suga laugh, so it was somewhat of a success in Oikawa’s book.

“You’re ridiculous,” Suga laughed to the side of Oikawa’s neck, his breath close and warm, brushing on Oikawa’s skin under his jaw in the most delicious way possible, nudging on the walls of Oikawa’s resistance against Suga’s charms and seduction.  “How am I in love with you?”

“What kind of a question is that?” Oikawa asked with haughtiness. “Of course you’re in love with me,” he continued, his tone saturated with how obvious it was that Suga was in love with him.

“Are you telling me you really don’t want to fuck?” Suga withdrew a little, like he was actually, finally, considering that possibility.

Before Suga could even begin to self-doubt – there was no way Oikawa would ever let him – Oikawa lowered the heat on the stove.

“I would have you bent over this counter right this second if I knew we had the time,” he said softly, while Suga withdrew his hands and brought them together over Oikawa’s his abdomen, arms still tightly and familiarly wrapped around his waist.

“That’s good to know,” Suga replied, his tone light again. “For future reference.”

Oikawa chuckled, pleased and of the same mind. He also tucked the thought in his mind for future reference.

“But three days is so long,” Suga said with a sigh, and Oikawa felt how Suga dropped his forehead against his neck again.

“There’s always phone sex.”

“It’s just dirty talk over the phone while we masturbate. That’s not sex.”

Oikawa would respectfully disagree, but couldn’t. Not when he could feel Suga’s hard dick pressing against the back of his thigh.

“Please put your hard-on away,” he asked as kindly as he could about something that he didn’t want with one hundred percent. “It’s distracting.”

“I’ll try,” Suga whispered, trailing soft and sweet kisses up and down Oikawa’s neck, over his shoulder and back to his neck again. But they weren’t kisses of arousal, much too delicate for that.

And it seemed to help Suga calm down from his pressing neediness, letting Oikawa to continue with their breakfast, moving on his feet as little as possible so Suga could cling onto him, keep his arms wrapped around him.

As he reached to put his coffee on, extending his hand out as far as it went, Suga’s hand skimmed on his tickle spot and he let out an involuntarily little sound of a giggle.

He tried to cover the giggle with a cough before Suga could somehow latch onto it and tease him for it. Unsuccessful of course, but only because Suga was pressed right against his back, probably feeling every little thing about his body, probably noticing every little shift and hearing every little sound.

Suga chuckled, his forehead dropped against Oikawa’s shoulder blade, his hands stilled on Oikawa’s abdomen. “That was cute,” he said with a delighted ring to his chuckles. “I didn’t know you tickled.”

“I don’t.” In fact, Oikawa had kept Suga unaware of his tickle spot on purpose, always hiding it when Suga’s hands accidentally brushed by it, always imperceptibly steering Suga’s touch away from it.

But Suga clearly didn’t believe him. “Really now?”

Oikawa felt Suga’s head lift from his shoulder, his hands starting to slowly glide towards his side, the dangerous spot he’d been careful to keep hidden.

Before Suga’s hands could reach their most probably intended destination, he turned in Suga’s arms with the purpose to go on full offense and tickle him back. However, his thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he took in the sight of Suga, for the first time that morning fully laying his eyes on him, and he was overjoyed to see that –

He let out a small gasp. “You’re wearing your glasses.” He brought his hands on Suga’s cheeks to cradle them like he was something precious and fragile, something to value. He was a little mad to himself that he hadn’t given more attention to Suga, to take a good look at him earlier. He would’ve had at least ten to fifteen minutes of sexual banter with Suga with glasses on if he’d bared a better look at his boyfriend the very second they traded ‘good mornings’.

“Well, I know how much you like them,” Suga said, shifting his gaze and looking away a little like he was embarrassed.

Oikawa thought it was cute, a soft smile on his lips as his thumbs stroked on Suga’s cheekbones, just under the frames. “I love them on you.”

Suga’s embarrassed, small smile turned bashful, and it was so endearing Oikawa felt ready to combust just from the slightest flicker of a match. There was something about Suga in glasses that just turned him into goo, or a pile of ashes with zero animation. He didn’t want Suga to know that, though, and moved onto another aspect that came up whenever he witnessed Suga in glasses.

“But this won’t help with you leaving this apartment anytime soon,” he lightly threatened, staring at Suga. He was seriously considering the ‘no-time-for-sex’ statement he’d made earlier.

“You should take a photo, it’ll last longer,” Suga joked with a small laugh, his hands sliding from Oikawa’s back to rest on his hips.

“Oh, I already have,” Oikawa stated in half-daze. “I have a whole album in my phone of photos of just you in glasses.”

Suga’s face scrunched adorably. “When did you take the photos?” he asked confusedly.

Of course Suga wouldn’t remember such a thing ever happening, considering...

“You were asleep. I took them when you dozed off after we had sex when you first showed these to me.”

A beat of silence followed Oikawa’s confession, one that didn’t really faze him. Suga didn’t scare him.

“You took photos of me sleeping?” Suga asked darkly, and it really didn’t make Oikawa quiver with fear. What he felt was closer to arousal than fear.

Yes, he was definitely reconsidering, not just the no-sex or even a blowjob, but his whole morning so far.

Oikawa grinned wider. “Yes.”  He ran his hand through Suga’s hair, in an attempt to soothe him, taking the dangerous tone seriously even if he wasn’t affected by it. “You were cute, you were wearing glasses. There was no way I wouldn’t take photos to commemorate the moment.”

“Then I guess I won’t need to wear these anymore,” Suga said as he pulled his glasses off.

“No, why?” Oikawa whined as he watched with a hint of remorse Suga fold the glasses and place them on the counter beside them.

“You don’t deserve to see me in my glasses until I’ve been shown these photos you’ve taken of me, until they’ve all passed my screening. I need to make sure you don’t have photos of me drooling.”

Oikawa scoffed lightly. Like Suga would ever drool. Or, at least he was yet to witness Suga drooling. He wasn’t above teasing Suga about it, though. “But they’re the best ones,” he defended with a grin.

Suga’s eyes widened with shock, his hands pushing on Oikawa’s shoulder, and still holding onto him, to put some distance between them as he leaned back. “You actually have photos of me drooling in my sleep?!”

Oikawa tried to keep his poker face in front of Suga’s shock, but wasn’t able to, not for long before he burst into laughter.

“You’re so cute!” he exclaimed fondly with full-body laughter.

Suga retaliated by pinching his side, and walked away.

Not too fast for Oikawa, though, as he reached after Suga and pinched his buttcheek.

“Hey!” Suga shouted in displeasure, but with a small smile of delight on his face, betraying how annoyed he really was about the pinch.

Oikawa chuckled with satisfaction, a pleased grin on his face as he turned back to preparing their breakfast.

“See if I’ll ever fuck you ever again,” Suga threatened, with a smile that told Oikawa he wasn’t even a little bit serious.

Oikawa turned back to the stove with a laugh, paying half a mind in to willing his fledging of a boner down.

There was no time for sex. 

Besides, it was only three days that Suga would be gone. They’d gone longer without fucking. They were practically masters at handling abstinence. However, this time Suga wouldn’t be at the apartment at all. There wouldn’t be a warm body in Oikawa’s bed, in his arms, cuddled with him as they watched X-files. 

Suga sat down by the kitchen island and slumped his upper body heavily on top of it, looking like he was ready to take a little nap there.

“Tired?” Oikawa asked with fondness, his arousal from seeing Suga with the glasses on giving room for more softer feelings, for affection. “Do you want coffee?”

“No,” Suga mumbled against his forearm.  

Oikawa had assumed as much, and took out a cup out and poured the water he’d boiled earlier through the tealeaves.

“Here,” he said softly as he pushed the cup by Suga’s hand, his other hand coming to rest on Suga’s back.

Suga hummed, thanked him, and straightened up from his slump to accept a quick, but sweet, kiss from Oikawa.

Oikawa smiled back to Suga as he pulled away to go and fetch their breakfast from the counter.

“Tell me again why Yamaguchi is going too?” he asked as he sat next to Suga, pulling his chair close enough to have their arms brushing, barely touching but close enough to be in contact.

“Because Takeda wants him to,” Suga replied calmly and gingerly tested the tea, whether it was too hot to drink. “You don’t need to be jealous about him,” he added with a glance to Oikawa.

“I’m not jealous.”

Suga gave him another glance that told Oikawa loud and clear that he didn’t agree, or believe him, but with a smile that softened his gaze.

“I’m actually more worried about Tanaka’s boyfriend being there.”

“What? Who?”

“Takeda’s assistant, Ennoshita. He and Tanaka are dating.”

Oikawa gawked. “Since when?”

A peculiar expression found it’s place on Suga’s face. “Have we not talked about this?”

“No,” Oikawa insisted, serious and a little offended that he’d been left out of the loop. “When did this happen?”

“A while ago?” Suga definitely _asked_ with his shrug, as if he wasn’t quite so sure of the specific time, and sipped the tea. “Since Noya’s party for Tanaka? A little after Kumamon disappeared, but before we got it back.”

Oikawa set his eyes on Suga, letting his studying gaze take in everything and then analyzing what he saw. There wasn’t much, and nothing out of ordinary, so Suga definitely hadn’t tried to, at least not actively so, to hide the relationship from him.

“Huh,” he stated blankly. “But why are you worried about him going?”

“I don’t want to risk him asking questions about Tanaka,” Suga answered with a shrug, like he thought it might probably happen, but it might just as well not happen.

“Don’t answer,” Oikawa offered the simple solution. “Divert with something. Or tell him outrageous lies about Tanaka. That would be funny.”

“So, if he asks what Tanaka is really like, I should tell him...?” Suga trailed of as he waited for Oikawa to supply him with the ending.

“That he’s a slob,” Oikawa offered a suitable lie straight away.

“But he is a slob.”

“Then don’t tell him that,” Oikawa shook his head. “Tell him that he eats nothing but frozen pizzas.”

“That’s literally all he ever eats,” Suga laughed out loud, his body shaking with his laughter.

Oikawa joined his laughter, chuckling calmly while he sipped his coffee, savoring the taste and the warmth.

“Then you should definitely just change the subject if he brings up Tanaka. Let him find out those unattractive aspects of Tanaka on his own.”

“It’s possible that he wouldn’t find it unattractive on Tanaka, though,” Suga mused. “I mean, everyone has their things, and sometimes you’re able to overlook some things when you’re attracted to them.”

Oikawa considered that with a slight frown. “Do I have things you overlook?” he asked, unable to not know, looking over to Suga with a smidgen of self-doubt that he’d never let anyone see.

“Yes,” Suga answered right away, like he’d been bursting to let Oikawa know this and was burdened by the heaviness of the things he was overlooking and glad to finally be able to say them out loud.

Oikawa was all of a sudden apprehensive of what Suga would say, and ready to defend every little thing Suga might bring up.

“You leave socks all over the place and you still brush crumbs onto the floor,” Suga said without looking at Oikawa, matter-of-fact, against the rim of his cup right before he took a sip, like he was serving some tea.

Oikawa tipped his head back as he let his laughter ring out loud and clear in their apartment.

Of course it would be something small like that, something Suga was already now and then pestering him for when they weren’t even dating yet.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

Less than an hour later, Suga returned to the kitchen with his bags, and dropped them on the couch.

“My ride is almost here,” he said, looking up from his cell phone and tucking it away in his camera bag.

Oikawa got up from his seat by the island, where he’d waited while Suga got dressed and ready, and made his way over to him, placing his hands gently on Suga’s waist. “Call me when you get to the hotel,” he reminded him.

“I will,” Suga promised with a soft smile, and leaned up to kiss him. “I’ll see you in three days.”

“Ugh,” Oikawa groaned lightly against Suga’s neck as he tucked his face there in a hug, not ready to let Suga go. “It’s too long. Don’t remind me about that.”

“It’ll go by so fast, you’ll end up missing the alone time when I’m back.”

“Alone time?” Oikawa pulled back, but kept his arms securely wrapped around Suga. “In this apartment with our neighbors?”

“New locks, today,” Suga reminded him with a raised eyebrow. “No one has the code yet.”

“That’s true,” Oikawa chuckled smugly with a grin. “But I’ll still miss you,” he added with an exaggerated pout.

“We’ll call,” Suga promised again.

Oikawa accepted it, knowing full well that the separation anxiety was a bit too much, maybe, quite possibly, very probably. But he didn’t care.

“Love you,” he said and kissed Suga with the intention of never stopping.

“You’re not making leaving any easier,” Suga laughed into the kiss, but Oikawa wasn’t deterred and kissed him again, deeper and sweeter.

“Good, don’t go,” he suggested, very seriously, like, serious as death, when he pulled away briefly to take a breath.

“Takeda is definitely already waiting downstairs,” Suga somehow, magically, managed to pull away to say. “I have to go.”

Reluctantly, and realizing the irony of earlier pointing out that Suga would use some kind of excuse not to go and now he was making up excuses so Suga wouldn’t go, Oikawa loosened his hold on Suga, letting the kiss linger as long as it would but not actively keeping in going. Suga had to go, there was nothing he could do about it.

“I love you too,” Suga said softly when they weren’t fused together from their lips anymore, gave one more chaste kiss on Oikawa’s lips, and then cheek when he went for one last hug.

Oikawa let Suga slip away from his arms, his finger catching on one of Suga’s belt loops for a brief moment, long enough for him to contemplate whether to hook his finger in and keep Suga with him for a moment longer.

“Seriously, call me when you get there,” Oikawa reminded Suga, one more time, just in case. Just in case Suga didn’t already catch that he loved him. He followed Suga to the front door, and held Suga’s bags on his shoulder as he put his shoes on.

“I will,” Suga said patiently as he straightened up from lacing his shoes, and took the offered bags. “Bye dork,” he said, and kissed Oikawa like they hadn’t already traded about a hundred goodbye kisses already, and was out the door too soon.

Oikawa sighed quietly as he watched the door close, and after the click of the latch and the lock, he wandered over to the couch under the window, and kneeled on it, his elbows resting on the back of it, to peer outside.

In a matter of few seconds, or maybe more but definitely less than sixty, he saw Suga lightly jog to the middle of the yard and turn to look up to him. Oikawa smiled, letting a small breath of laughter escape him when Suga waved with both hands in big motions, with a wide smile on his face.

“Dork,” Oikawa said to the empty room as he witnessed Suga’s extravagant gestures and waved back before Suga disappeared out of sight, probably into the car where Takeda was waiting.

Oikawa turned on the couch, and sat down for a brief moment to take a deep breath.

It was only three days.

He could survive alone in the apartment, without Suga, for three days.

He was sure of it.

Just three days.

Without Suga.

 

 

Oikawa already hated the loneliness.

 

 

...

 

 

 

He had never realized how he could physically feel the ache of missing somebody. He had never thought it possible, had never imagined he’d actually experience it himself.

But here he was.

Only one day in on the absence of Suga, an actual physical feeling taking on the air in every room in the apartment and affecting Oikawa’s mood, and he was _aching._

In an attempt to not feel the loneliness, the absence, and because of a pressing matter he actually had to attend to and had decided to use Suga’s absence to get it over with, he’d called Kuroo over, along with the rest of their neighbors.

He sat down on a couch with a sigh, arms crossed in front of his chest and a small pout on his face, looking as petulant as anyone could expect.

Kuroo seemed to find it hilarious, more than anything.

“What’s up?” he asked with a chuckle from his spot on the armchair. When Kuroo had proclaimed that it was his seat from here to eternity, he hadn’t been joking.

Oikawa shot him a displeased, albeit pouty look. And promptly gave up.

“I miss Suga-chan,” he said miserably and fell sideways on the couch, his head falling onto a pillow that somehow, obviously, smelled of Suga. Everything in the apartment reminded him of Suga, his scent lingered on everything. Even on things you wouldn’t expect, like a book that he’d been reading the night before in a fruitless attempt at not thinking and missing Suga, trying to divert his thoughts to the complex world of science fiction and imaginative scenarios of the future of the world under alien colonization.

“He’s been gone one night,” Kuroo pointed out, not unkindly.

“I miss him,” Oikawa reiterated.

Kuroo chuckled softly as he moved onto the same couch with Oikawa and pat his shoulder. “He’ll be home soon.”

“I know,” Oikawa admitted. “I still miss him.”

“Didn’t you call him yesterday?”

“Yes, he called when he got to the hotel, and then later in the evening before we went to sleep. And we’ve send each other texts all day.”

“Sounds pretty much what I’m going through with Tsukki right now.”

Oikawa looked up from the pillow infecting his nose with Suga’s scent. “He still isn’t back?”

“No, he is, but super busy reporting about the findings, you know, writing in-depth articles for science magazines, lectures for the professor he sometimes TA’s for.”

“He’s a TA?”

“Uh,” Kuroo made a contemplative face. “Not really. He just helps out a professor friend of his sometimes.”

“Huh,” Oikawa made a sound like he was kind of interested to find that out and at the same time, not interested in the least, simultaneously rolling to his back and reaching into his pocket for his cell phone to see if maybe he had miraculously missed a text notification or a phone call from Suga.

Neither of these cases were true, though.

With a disappointed sigh he dropped his phone on his chest, while Kuroo commented on his lack of interest about Tsukishima’s work.

Oikawa ignored him in favor of lamenting. “I miss Suga,” he deplored to the ceiling, and then tilted his head to the side to look at Kuroo. “Is this what it’s like when you’re in a relationship with someone and you don’t live with them?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Kuroo didn’t even trying to sugarcoat it.

“I hate it,” Oikawa proclaimed.

“Have you never had it before?”

“No.”

Kuroo was seemingly struck silent by Oikawa’s confession.

“How is that possible?” he asked, incredulity lacing his voice once he found it.

“I was never anyone’s boyfriend before Suga. And Iwaizumi doesn’t really count since we were teenagers when we started dating and still living with our families.”

“So, once you moved out of your parents’, you –“

“Moved in together.”

“Dude,” Kuroo said with reverence, and Oikawa couldn’t do much about it.

“Do you think Suga would be mad if I called him faking and injury or sickness so he’d come back right away?”

“Probably not,” Kuroo answered, speaking out loud Oikawa’s thoughts.

He knew Suga wasn’t all too excited about going, but it was important for him to go. So he’d gone. And Oikawa knew it was important, so he had to let Suga do his thing. Even if he missed him tremendously.

He had to put what Suga needed before his own needs. It was frustrating, but he had to be an adult and get over it.

It was only two more days.

Kuroo cooed, out of the blue, drawing Oikawa’s focus.

“What?”

“You’re so cute missing him,” Kuroo continued coo at him, poking his side and arm and every inch of his body that he could reach that wasn’t a private place.

“Stop,” Oikawa commanded, irritated, swatting Oikawa’s hands away. “Do you have to crowd me like that?”

He wasn’t usually opposed to people hanging off of him – he had fantastic arms to hang onto – but he was missing Suga, and if that someone clinging onto him and crowding his personal space wasn’t Suga, it was unwanted right that moment.

“You love having me here, don’t try and deny it,” Kuroo stated, almost cockily, with a soft grin.

“You’re here only because I asked you to come,” Oikawa stated right back, full of facts and nothing but.

“Because you love having me around.”

Oikawa pushed himself to sit up and tightened his loosened ponytail. “No, I had a specific reason.”

“I have to say I’m honored that you love me having me here so much.”

Oikawa sighed and fixed Kuroo with a look. “Were you always this annoying and was Suga’s presence just mollifying the effects on me?”

“No,” Kuroo waved his hand, his grin fading into a wan smile. “I’m messing you up. I haven’t seen Bokuto for a couple of days. I have excess energy.”

“He’s coming too, maybe you two can have a play date or something,” Oikawa said, almost absently-mindedly, and way too breezily to be considered like he fully meant it, as he reached for his phone again, fallen next to him on the couch.

“Gee, thanks dad,” Kuroo said with a mocking, dry and sarcastic voice.

“I’m not the dad in this household,” Oikawa denied, almost offended, serious as a grave and at the same time let down that since he last checked a minute ago, there were no new messages.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Kuroo said with a thoughtful expression. “You’re more like the evil step-dad,” he added with a full-on grin, like he was holding back his delighted cackles over his oh-so-hilarious joke.

Oikawa wasn’t amused, and leveled Kuroo with a dark look. “Fuck off.”

The grin disappeared from Kuroo’s face as he grew serious. “You are no fun when Suga is gone.”

“Tell me about it,” Oikawa reluctantly agreed.

“I have half a mind of going to Kyoto to get Suga and drag him back here so you can get laid, have him fuck the foul mood away from you.”

“Ah, sounds like an excellent spa day,” Oikawa joked, faking the ooh’s and aah’s.

Kuroo chuckled. “It’s like you’re going through Suga-withdrawals.”

“Who knows?” Oikawa shrugged, falling on his side on the couch again with desperation. “I might be.”

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Okay, Oikawa,” Kuroo said like he was calling for attention in a meeting, as if he was sitting at the end of the table in a big chair like a CEO, when in reality, he’d relocated back to the armchair that he claimed was heaven and his one and only true love, sorry Tsukishima, and looked like the most relaxed being in the world in his joggers and his volleyball team hoodie. “Why are we here?”

“For ground rules,” Oikawa answered, much more professionally and with decorum and dignity. “Regarding the new locks and our apartment.”

He was standing so he could see everyone in the living room. From left to right, it was Kuroo, then Kenma and Hinata on the floor paying the bare minimum attention to him and more to the game Kenma was playing, on the couch under the window sat Bokuto like an excited puppy next to it’s attentive and caring owner, Akaashi, and sharing the couch with them was Yaku, as patient as always and already done with everyone’s bullshit – he must’ve had a long day at work. And on the other couch sat Hanamaki and Mattsun, one perched on the armrest and half on the other’s lap, giving more room for Tanaka and Nishinoya to sit with them. Although, Nishinoya moved to sit on the back of the couch, as if it was the more comfortable choice.

“Why?” Nishinoya asked, sounding genuinely curious, and not at all like he was demanding answers. Oikawa liked him when he was like that. “There hasn’t been need for them before.”

That was true, however, _now..._

“Well, since we found Makki and Mattsun having sex in our bathroom, I think there’s a need to establish some boundaries.” Oikawa said, looking at the two as if he was a father of twins full of mischief and pranks. Envision Molly Weasley looking at Fred and George and you were halfway there since Oikawa’s look was missing the fondness, no matter how exasperated or exhausted, a parent would have when looking upon their children.

“Wait, what?!” Bokuto jumped up laughing, looking at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, both of whom looked far too pleased with themselves for their shamelessness. “When?” He looked excitedly between the two and Oikawa, waiting for more details.

“Suga already threatened our lives and our asses for that,” Hanamaki pointed out.

“He did?” Kuroo asked, getting interested as well. “With what?”

Oikawa felt like the direction he was hoping the somewhat impromptu meeting would go to was slowly getting derailed.

“With candy cane shaped fairy wands pulled from demon’s ass,” Matsukawa answered sagely, almost like he was fondly recalling the moment.

“That sounds like a dirty innuendo,” Akaashi commented in a slightly hushed voice.

“I’m pretty sure it was,” Hanamaki agreed with a nod.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Oikawa interrupted before everyone got more delved into the jokes. “I know Suga wants all of you to have the code to our door so you can still come in, for emergencies. But, as we are a couple who would like some privacy as well, we have to have some rules.”

“Why can’t we go on as we have? If we have the code, it’s like the door is always open for us. And we can still come in and hang out. Like we have.” Tanaka said, genuine and seemingly baffled.

And he wasn’t wrong. It’s just that –

“Because Suga and I are in a relationship and would like some uninterrupted privacy now and then,” Oikawa repeated.

“You’ve had that. Why the need the rules now if the situation isn’t that different?”

“Because they can’t lock the door when they want to have that privacy,” Akaashi answered. “Before, they could lock the door to tell us that they don’t want to be disrupted. Now, they don’t have that chance since the door is always locked, and we could always open it.”

“Oh. Right. That’s true.”

“So,” Oikawa started, brushing some stray hairs behind his ear. “First off, if you come in and hear sex sounds, leave.”

“No arguments there.”

“Second, if you’re here in the morning to have breakfast, and you hear sex sounds, leave.”

“In middle of a breakfast?” Kuroo asked, as if it was unthinkable to do such a thing. _Leaving in middle of breakfast?_ Blasphemy.

“Yes,” Oikawa answered in a way that gave no wiggle room, no chance for debate.

“What if I’m brewing coffee, and you two start to get frisky in the bedroom? Do you expect me to forget about the coffee and just leave?”

“Yes.”

“What about other times of the day? If I’m heating up food for dinner?” Nishinoya asked.

“Also yes. And the apartment is off limits from eleven p.m. to seven a.m. during weekdays, and midnight to ten a.m. on weekends.”

“Are you ensuring a time frame for morning sex with that ten o’clock there?” Hanamaki asked with a look bordering on leery.

“Yes.”

“That’s some strict schedule you have there,” Yaku commented, but Oikawa couldn’t decipher his tone.

He wasn’t given the time to try and figure it out before Hinata spoke up from the floor, from next to Kenma who looked like he was trying his hardest to ignore the conversation around him.

“So, I can’t come in the mornings anymore to have coffee before work?” he asked, sounding quite worried about it.

Oikawa sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You can,” he said and looked at Hinata. “But leave if you hear us having sex.”

Hinata’s eyes widened and his back straightened, as if he was horrified of the prospect of witnessing them having sex.

Oikawa was satisfied with that. He knew the small ones would easily follow the rules. It was the bigger kids and their shamelessness and insolence that he was more concerned with.

“Hey!” Bokuto exclaimed suddenly, looking around the living room as if he was looking for something or someone. “Why isn’t Asahi here?”

“Because he is polite and actually knocks _and waits_ for one of us to open the door.”

 

 

 

...

 

 

“I need you to keep everyone out of our apartment tonight,” Oikawa said as he set a cup of coffee in front of Matsukawa.

They’d met up in a generic café, With Matsukawa still looking for a job and Oikawa’s short break between the office and the practice at the school in afternoon, they’d started to meet up for whatever they felt like eating or drinking.

It was nice, and it gave them a chance to sort of get reacquainted, to further explore their friendship and the limits that it had for the subjects of their conversations.

Matsukawa looked at him with utter seriousness. “I have questions.”

Oikawa smirked back. “Too bad,” he said and sipped his coffee, very aware that Matsukawa would have questions and cocky in knowing that he would really like some answers.

“Why do you need your apartment to be empty tonight?” Matsukawa still inquired, as if Oikawa’s secretiveness wasn’t enough of a hint that he wouldn’t be getting any answers.

“Suga comes back today,” he still answered, and sipped more of his coffee, not looking at Matsukawa, practically urging Matsukawa to ask more.

“And? Just save the sex after the curfew you set,” Matsukawa said with a shrug, as if it shouldn't be a big deal that he and Suga were about to have sex. “No one will interrupt you after ten o’clock.”

But it was a big deal that they hadn’t seen each other in three days. It should be given that he and Suga were most definitely going to engage in some sexual activities, at their earliest convenience. 

However, there was more to it as well. Oikawa had planned on doing something romantic.

He hadn’t meant to slip the “I love you” to Suga the night before he left. He’d made plans to tell him at another time, in a different setting, and impulsiveness and his devoted feelings for Suga had taken advantage of the night when the words had escaped him without his permission.

It was lucky that Suga had been ecstatic about it. Which Oikawa had been very happy about, obviously.

“Just make sure that everyone knows that our apartment is off limits today. No visits to hang out or calls to feed hungry mouths.”

Matsukawa sighed softly. “Fine,” he agreed. “But I still have questions, and I’ll tell everyone to stay away when you answer them.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his friend. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“Maybe,” Matsukawa grinned subtly, hiding it into his cup. “You do realize that if I tell everyone to stay away, which I’m a little confused about, because, why would you ask me? Anyway, they’ll ask me questions, and if I don’t have any real answers based on facts, there’s going to be a lot speculations and rumors. Which Suga hates. So...” He raised an expecting eyebrow, his eyes searching Oikawa’s. “What are you planning with Suga exactly?”

Oikawa pursed his lips as he pondered. Everything Matsukawa just said was true – everyone would have questions, which would lead to rumors and gossip, which could blow into ridiculous proportions and it one night there would a story going around of how the two had insisted for everyone to stay out so they could either have really crazy, wild and kinky sex in the bathroom because somehow they’d managed to figure out how to fit in there, or that Suga had kidnapped someone or stolen art.

“It’s just a dinner, that’s all,” Oikawa said as begrudgingly as he could, to show Matsukawa how little he wanted to say anything more. “And I asked you since you’ve somehow taken over from Kuroo and become the busybody of gossip in our building now that you’re not working.”

“I have to fill my days with something,” Matsukawa shrugged, unbothered.

Oikawa wanted to roll his eyes, but satisfied himself with just slightly shaking his head with exasperation at his friend’s ‘joke’.

“So, dinner?” Matsukawa asked. “You’re not planning on proposing are you?”

“What?!” Oikawa shrieked, taken aback by the casually voiced question, literally leaning back in his seat with his shock. “No!”

Matsukawa chuckled.

“And don’t go spreading any false rumors that that’s what I’m doing when you tell everyone to stay away,” Oikawa pointed an accusing and warning finger at Matsukawa, who was still chuckling.

“If you don’t want that, just tell everyone to stay away yourself.”

Oikawa’s face morphed into a grimace, like he’d eaten something extremely sour. Admittedly, it would be the simple and easy solution, something that should’ve been obvious, like Leia’s love for Han and vice versa. But...

“They wouldn’t listen to me,” he grumbled in a lowered, whiny voice. “They’d come just to tease.”

Matsukawa smiled sympathetically at him. “That’s because we like you so much. We don’t want to stay away.”

“That’s nice and all,” Oikawa agreed, little bit flattered, his fur pet enough for him to purr if he was a cat. “But I really want to have a quiet and peaceful evening just with Suga.”

“I get it,” Matsukawa nodded. “I’ll tell everyone.”

Oikawa breathed in and out with content relief and nodded his gratitude.

 

 

...

 

 

That same day, after three days and three cold and lonely nights later, Oikawa was standing in the middle of the busy train station, waiting for Suga’s train.

He had decided, even before Suga had taken off to Kyoto, that he’d be there on the platform when the train would arrive to welcome him back. To wrap him in his arms and feel Suga’s body flushed against his in a warm hug. To kiss him as soon as possible, and waiting for Suga to get home would be waiting too long for the kiss. No matter how public the kiss would be, he was going to kiss Suga like his life depended on it. Which, if he was being dramatic, it did. He needed Suga’s kisses like they were the essence of his life, like everything about his world and universe was based on those kisses, on Suga’s soft lips on his.

It had been three days since he’d seen Suga, since he’d been able to be in Suga’s presence, heard his voice unaffected by the cellphone receiver, slept in the same bed next to him, kissed him... It had been three long days since anything with Suga, and the ache of absence had been ever-present and relentless. He was just glad to be rid of the horrible feeling.

He was almost jittery with his excitement, but keeping it on the down low, keeping his composure to seem unaffected and aloof, dignified and of importance, The Man With No Name, James Bond, cool as a cucumber – which, if you ask him, is a stupid phrase. Who on earth decided that cucumbers were cool?

Or maybe it wasn’t a human at all who’d come up with it, but an alien, pretending to blend into the human population. Maybe someone had pointed out a cucumber to the alien, and the alien, without any prompt or context, and unsure how they were supposed to react, had said that ‘yes, cool’.

But he was getting off on a tangent and needed to come back to the present, and quite conveniently just as Suga’s train’s arrival was heralded over PSA.

He took his phone out, and dialed Suga’s number, conveniently also his latest contact.

“Hey, I’m almost at the station,” Suga answered without much of a wait. His voice was somehow soothing some of the ache in Oikawa’s mind and body, dulling the sharp edges of the pain in his bones and soul.

“Yeah, I figured,” Oikawa said, moving a little to make sure that no matter which car Suga was in, he’d spot him when he got out. “I was just wondering what you’d like to have for dinner.”

“Oh, um...” Suga hummed as he must’ve thought about his answer. “I’m not really craving anything in particular, so if you have any ideas let’s go with them.”

“Alright,” Oikawa agreed, just as the train pulled into the station. “Are you alone right now?” he asked, suave and smooth, and suggestive as hell. Just to tease and to lead Suga off of anticipating him waiting for him.

“The train just got to the station. Can we hang up for a bit?”

“No, I want to talk to you,” Oikawa continued to speak with his lower tone, the tone that he knew Suga absolutely loved and hated for, for what it did to Suga.  

“While I try to maneuver through the crowd with my suitcase without tripping as I get off?” Suga sounded incredulous, but with the softened edge of a smile.

“Yes.”

Suga laughed on the other end. “Okay, whatever tickles your fancy.”

Oikawa chuckled softly as well, while he could kind of hear someone, most likely Takeda, say something to Suga. It was too mumbled and too far away for him to pick up any actual words, but he could recognize the voice.

Passengers were streaming out of the train and joining the already, always, bustling station.

“Maybe we could have ramen? Just something quick and easy so we can get to bed quicker?” Oikawa suggested as he kept a sharp eye on the crowd to spot Suga.

“Get to bed as in to sleep or to have sex?”

“The latter,” Oikawa confirmed, lowering his voice further to sound more suave. “And we can hang up now,” he added quickly after, when he recognized the familiar light hair amongst all the darker colors. He didn’t wait for Suga’s response before he ended the call and replaced his phone back into his pocket so he’d have his hands free.

He noticed, even from the distance how Suga faintly frowned at his phone with a bemused smile before he put his cell phone away as well and looked up.

And their eyes met.

Oikawa smiled, saw how Suga halted for a fraction of a second, before he picked up his pace, a fond and excited smile growing on his face.

As soon as Suga was at an arms’ length away, Oikawa engulfed him into a warm and tight embrace. He felt how Suga’s arms wound around his waist, how close Suga tugged himself, as if even the air couldn’t fit between them.

“Hi,” Oikawa spoke into the crook of Suga’s neck and shoulder, and felt how Suga’s hands somehow pulled and pushed even closer, holding him tighter.

“Missed you,” Suga replied softly, almost inaudible as it was drowned under the noise of the station.

It felt so good to hear that and to physically feel how Suga had missed him too, just based on how tightly and desperately he was clinging on.

“Good,” Oikawa affirmed and loosened his hold around Suga so he could look at him.

Suga looked up to him with bright eyes and a wide smile, looking happy the way he’d looked when Oikawa told him he loved him. “Can we have the clichéd airport reunion where I run at you and you catch me?”

“You want to have that here?” Oikawa took a pointed look around over Suga’s shoulder. “You might run smack against someone.”

Suga laughed softly, that already telling Oikawa how unserious he was about the suggestion, his hands grabbing onto Oikawa’s shirt at the sides. “Maybe not then.”

Oikawa liked the idea, though, of catching a running Suga into his arms and kissing the hell out of him. Maybe if they were at a less busy airport someday, or a train station, they could do it. They _would_ do it.

“We’ll have a retry some other day,” Oikawa made up the decision, bringing his hands to Suga’s cheeks, and kissed him.

Finally.

After three long days of missing Suga.

He could finally kiss him again.

He’d spent almost a disturbing amount of time just fantasizing about kissing him. Of holding him close to kiss him. Of Suga’s hands on his body as they kissed.

“This is a lot of PDA for a busy train station,” Suga commented lightheartedly when they broke away for air, his lips brushing on Oikawa’s.

“I know.” Oikawa didn’t care, and resumed kissing Suga, still outwardly as cool as cucumber when on the inside he was combusting.

Suga didn’t seem to mind either, as they continued their reunion kiss in middle of the bustle and the hustle of the train station, getting lost into each other, tangled with one another.

 

 

...

 

 

At some point they’d moved on from their reunion on the train station, figuring that it would be better to continue in privacy of their apartment.

Oikawa helped Suga with his bags, ever the gentleman, even when Suga had insisted that he got them.

But Oikawa wasn’t having it, and had ignored Suga and taken one of the two bags. If Suga wanted to carry something, he could carry his precious and _extremely_ valuable camera bag. Oikawa didn’t even want to start wondering on how much the cameras and all the other little equipment that Suga liked to lug around with him had cost. He knew that professional cameras weren’t exactly cheap, and Suga had so many of them, and he took such a good care of them.

Honestly, Oikawa was just a tiny bit afraid to carry the cameras in fear of breaking something on accident.

As they made their way home from the station, Oikawa filled Suga in on everything that had happened since he’d left, making sure to hear every note of Suga’s laughter, even in middle of the roar of traffic, when he made him laugh.

Suga was still quietly chuckling to himself from Oikawa’s latest story as they climbed the stairs up to the second floor.

Oikawa was smiling with contentment, holding Suga’s hand, hearing his delight, just being happy. It actually took him a while to notice the second source of sounds in the stairwell, and it wasn’t until they stepped up to the second floor landing that their attention was drawn to the sound of lips smacking together on their right.

“Hello, kids,” Suga said, his words pulling Hinata and Kenma apart, the former jumping back like he’d been lassoed and pulled to the opposing wall, the latter gluing his back to the door.

“Suga-san,” Hinata exclaimed, looking thoroughly shocked and a little frazzled. “You’re back,” he still said with a smile.

“I am,” Suga replied with a grin. “Don’t let us disturb you, carry on.” He waved his hand, a gesture for them to do what he’d just said and turned to Oikawa.

“I don’t have the code,” he added, aimed at Oikawa.

With importance, Oikawa moved to their door to punch the code in, deciding to ignore the youngsters making out at a front door like a couple of hormonal teenagers after a date, knowing that what the two usually got to in terms of displaying affection the extreme was always just some light and soft making out, the adorable and inexperienced couple slowly and almost cautiously making their way back to each other, as if they weren’t quite sure if they were allowed to.

He made sure that Suga saw the code as he pressed the buttons, and pulled the door open once the lock opened.

“Welcome home,” he said with grandeur as he held the door open for Suga.

Suga laughed lightly, certainly just to please Oikawa, as he stepped inside, and gently dropped his bag on to the floor as he took his shoes off.

“Oh, by the way, Kenma is convinced that there is a way to keep the door unlocked,” Oikawa thought to say as the door closed after them, closing it on the admittedly, heart-clutchingly cute sight of Kenma and Hinata just holding each other and gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Okay,” Suga said, like it was a question, turning to look at him when he struggled with his left shoe. “Why are you telling me this?”

Oikawa placed the other bag next to the first one on the floor. “Because I know how much you hated the idea of a locked front door. I know how much you like that our friends come and go as they want. And I know you were sad about the new locks.”

“I don’t mind the privacy, though,” Suga said softly, as if he was apologetic for wanting to keep the door open.

“And I don’t mind the visitors, but maybe we can figure something out?”

Suga nodded and rose on his tiptoes to leave a sweet and chaste kiss on Oikawa’s lips.

“Hello, home,” Suga turned around in spot and called it out to the apartment at large. “Hello, Kumamon,” he said, making his way to it on the couch. “Did you miss me?” He placed a small kiss on top of Kumamon’s head.

“He had too much fun with me to miss you,” Oikawa teased.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Suga shot back almost menacingly, his eyes narrowed a little like he was glaring at Oikawa. “I kind of want to fight you now.”

“Love you too,” Oikawa kept teasing with a smirk, walking over to Suga, who was hugging Kumamon so tight it’s head might pop off.

It was still rather new for Oikawa to say it out loud to Suga, and based on Suga’s bashful flush on his cheeks, new for Suga to hear too. Oikawa had an errand, fleeting thought in his head of how long it might take for Suga to get used to hearing it.

“Do you want to shower after your trip?”

Suga hummed for a short moment. “Do you mind if I do?”

“Of course not. Go, shower,” Oikawa pushed on Suga’s back towards the hallway. “Freshen up. We’ll eat once you’re done.”

Suga agreed, giving a kiss to Oikawa. “Too bad we don’t both fit into the shower.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened at the implication. “You want to have shower sex?”

Suga punched him lightly to his stomach, and calmly added, “Of course”, like it should be a no-brainer. “Slipping and falling while having sex on the slippery tiles, cracking your skull and the blood running down the drain with the water,” he said deadpan. “What a way to go.”

Oikawa exhaled with a short laughter through his nose, pushing on Suga’s shoulder this time, urging him to go shower even quicker. “You’re so violent,” he thought out loud with astonishment and horror. The ease with which Suga could come up with the horrid scenarios was truly... astounding, and Oikawa was, quite rightly so, a little bit afraid of him for that.

Not that he’d admit it.

“The sooner you’ve showered the sooner we can have sex.”

“I like the way you think,” Suga beamed at him, walking away backwards, prolonging their affectionate eye contact as long as possible.

 

 

...

 

 

About twenty or so minutes later, Oikawa heard the shower cut off.

He was almost done with the dinner, the table was set and the candles lit, all the other lights turned off to create the romantic ambiance he was going for.

He was sort of compensating for how he’d told Suga he loved him.

He’d had a plan for how he was going to do it, and even though he’d already confessed, he still wanted to go with the plan. So what if Suga already knew? The romantic dinner was still a good idea in his book. And he had a feeling that Suga would like it.

What he hadn’t planned for was Suga, with his hair wet, dressed in soft looking cuffed sweats and an oversized t-shirt that was definitely designed that way when the neckline wasn’t overly large like the exaggerated drop of the shoulders and the large sleeves would indicate, _and with the glasses on._

Oikawa took a deep breath to calm down, not to push Suga against the counter and have him right there and then, since it had been four days since they’d last had sex, would only be three if he’d agreed to that morning sex before Suga left, and _since Suga was wearing the glasses._

No, romance first, sex later.

“Um,” Suga hesitated by the kitchen, looking over at the setting. “Did I accidentally walk into the Lady and the Tramp -movie?”

“No, but I’ll share my spaghetti and meatballs with you any day,” Oikawa joked with an impish grin.

“Ooh, sexual innuendos,” Suga commented as he walked closer to Oikawa. “Talk dirty to me,” he said as deadpan as anyone could while smiling mischievously.

Oikawa laughed, quite loudly. He sobered up slightly, continuing his laughter with soft chuckles as he felt Suga’s arms wrap around him again, from the side this time.

“Are you making dinner for me?” Suga asked quietly, in a gentle whisper that was powerful enough with emotion to change the atmosphere in the kitchen from bright and fun to soft and sweet.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

Oikawa felt Suga’s smile on his shoulder.

“You made me dinner, in candlelight, because you love me?”

Oikawa turned his head to look at Suga, and saw an edge in the smile of pure sugar and affection on Suga’s lips, making him look almost coy.

“Is this how you meant to tell me for the first time that you love me?” he asked softly, though, the coyness of his smile absent from his tone.

Oikawa took a short breath and let it out sharply. Of course Suga had figured it out. Of course Oikawa should’ve considered that Suga could.

“Maybe.”

Suga brought his hand to Oikawa’s jaw to bring him into a sweet but firm kiss. “I love you too,” he whispered, lips brushing on Oikawa’s.

Oikawa smiled, and pressed it to Suga’s lips. “You better. I don’t do this just for anybody.” He threw his free arm around Suga’s back to keep him close, not that Suga had given any signs of letting go. He wanted to keep Suga close for easy access for more kisses.

“I’m glad then,” Suga whispered, fulfilling Oikawa’s unspoken wish for more kisses.

“But if an Italian duo jumps up out of nowhere to serenade us, I’m punching you, and then them,” Suga added seriously.

Oikawa bit his lip not to laugh in Suga’s face. He had no doubts whatsoever that Suga would do that. It was good then that he’d dialed back in his planning and forgone the serenading.

Suga’s arms returned around Oikawa’s waist, his head on Oikawa’s shoulder, leaning against him as he settled to watch him cook. “That looks like mapo tofu.”

“It is.”

“It better be super spicy.”

“It will be.”

“Good,” Suga stated softly, and turned his head enough to leave a kiss on Oikawa’s shoulder. “It’s good to be home,” he said with a sigh, long and drawn out, as if he was savoring it, or rather the feeling behind his soft admittance.

 

 

...

 

 

After their romantic dinner, they’d easily fallen into their respective chores of cleaning up after, Oikawa emptying the table and Suga doing the dishes.

“You can finish the dishes tomorrow,” Oikawa suggested as he closed the fridge door and took stock of the amount of dishes Suga had to do.

“I might as well do them now, then I don’t have to worry about them _and_ tomorrow’s dishes tomorrow.”

Oikawa considered it with pursed lips. “Sounds fair,” he shrugged, coming to the conclusion fairly quickly.

But with Suga’s hands busy in the soapy water and focus on not cutting himself with the knives, Oikawa didn’t appear idle. He stepped up behind Suga and took his turn in backhugging Suga, sighing as happiness filled him as he was able to hold Suga after three long days.

He left a trail of soft kisses down Suga’s neck, starting from the corner of his jaw, taking a detour to kiss just under his ear, and finding his destination at the end of his collarbone. When he lifted his head up, his eyes were caught on the glasses Suga was still wearing.

It had been a real battle of willpower for him to sit through the dinner and not pull Suga to him to devour him with kisses and take him in middle of their eating.

“It’s really unfair of you to wear these when you know what they do to me,” he said as casually as he could while he simultaneously was one slightly suggestive look, or any kind of sound coming from Suga, away from starting to dryhump him, tapping the handle of the glasses with his index finger. “I’ve been so turned on for forever because of them.”

“So, you _do_ have the switch that turns you on,” Suga teased him, mercifully and regrettably taking the gift from the devil, the father of sin, off and laying them on the counter. “Good to know.”

“No,” Oikawa whined, dropping his face to Suga’s shoulder and nuzzling him. “Put them back on.”

Suga laughed, but Oikawa felt it more than heard it. “Make up your mind,” he said kindly. “On or off?” He glanced at Oikawa, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Off,” Oikawa decided. “I want to hear more about your trip to Kyoto.”

“How many more things are you going to come up with to postpone sex?” Suga asked, as if in passing, and drained the sink from the water as he rinsed the last plate before he put it on the dishrack to dry.

 “You’ve barely said anything about the trip,” Oikawa pointed out, his hands moving to Suga’s hips to turn him around to face him. “I want to know what the whole thing was about.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Suga said, like he actually meant it, but Oikawa didn’t believe him.  

“What was it for?” he asked, ignoring Suga’s oh-so-subtle way of skipping telling him anything. _‘Not much to tell’,_ Oikawa wanted to scoff. _Right._

“I think I’m still a little fuzzy on that because you’ve never actually said anything about it. Even before you left. I know it’s for some gallery thing, but that’s all.” He brushed some of Suga’s now dry hair behind his ear.

“There really isn’t much to tell.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” Suga insisted softly, his hands trailing slowly and tenderly upwards on Oikawa’s arms, his touch sparking up his nerves and eliciting gentle shivers to run under his skin.

“Why won’t you tell me anything?”

Suga let out a long sigh, as if he was giving up. Oikawa might’ve grinned with victory at wearing Suga down so quickly. “Because I know you’re going to make it into a big deal when I tell you more.”

“And you’re keeping me from rejoicing in your accomplishments? You’re a cruel boyfriend. Do you even love me at all?”

“I don’t want to make it a big deal.” Suga stepped around Oikawa and went to sit by the island.

Oikawa followed him, only a step behind, practically and quite literally hounding Suga for more information, scooting his chair closer to Suga’s. “Which means it’s a big deal,” he said as he leaned his elbow on top of the island, his chin on his palm as he kept his gaze fixed on Suga to gauge any change in expression, any give away. 

“It’s really not. It’s just a photo in a gallery. Or a museum actually.”

Oikawa stopped for a moment in his hounding to consider Suga’s words, thinking back to everything he could remember Suga saying about the exhibition, about his visit to Kyoto and the reason for it. He could see the vague image of the email Suga had shown him months ago.

“What _museum,”_ he asked when an unrelenting thought came to him, when he couldn’t shake the particular name from his mind. The only reason he could think of for something to be a big deal and for Suga to pretend like it wasn’t.

“Just a museum.”

A hint of a smile creeped on Oikawa’s lips as his inkling was more or less confirmed. “What’s the name of it?”

“Tooru –“

“What museum?”

Suga wasn’t saying anything, so Oikawa had to make him. “I’ll call Takeda and ask him if you don’t tell me. Do you really want him to tell me?”

Suga cupped his hands behind Oikawa’s neck and brought him into a kiss, most likely trying to shut him up.

“Nice try,” Oikawa said as he pulled away, trying to put some distance between him and Suga with hands on Suga’s hips. “That won’t work on me.” He knew what Suga was trying to do, trying to distract him with passionate kisses.

“Sure it will,” Suga insisted, leaning in to kiss Oikawa again, moving to sit in Oikawa’s lap, to straddle him.

Oikawa would have to give it to Suga – he was putting some real effort not to be swayed by Suga’s kisses, not to let himself be distracted.

“I promise I’ll give you all the kisses you wish as soon as you tell me what the Kyoto trip was really for.”

Suga exhaled, the rush of his breath sounding defeated. He sat back on Oikawa’s thighs, his gaze lowered. “MoMAK wants to have one of my photos in their exhibit.”

Oikawa was sure his brain short circuited, which was weird considering how many thoughts and feelings were racing inside his body, competing to be the one to be expressed.

“What?” he asked, certain that he looked beyond stricken. “That’s –“ He had to cut himself off, wordless as he was with the shock. With the amazement. Unable to pick the word he felt was best to describe anything at all. “That’s amazing!”

Suga shrugged, looking away.

“Don’t you think so?” Oikawa asked, thrown on another loop at Suga’s seeming indifference.

“It’s not the first museum or art gallery that has expressed their interest in having my photos.”

“That’s amazing!” Oikawa had to repeat, happy for Suga. “What museums? What photos are they interested in? Which one does MoMAK want?”

He had a hard time reigning in his excitement, feeling sincerely happy for Suga. He was bursting with questions. He was genuinely, truly proud of Suga, of his boyfriend.

He saw how Suga’s shoulders shook a little as he chuckled, his face bright with his smile.

“What? I’m intrigued to know more,” he defended his enthusiasm. He was proud and not at all above bragging about his talented boyfriend to everyone who’d give him half an ear to listen.

“I know,” Suga replied softly, his hands coming up to cup Oikawa’s cheeks. “But you promised me kisses once I told you.”

“Come here.” Oikawa placed his hand behind Suga’s neck and pulled him closer to give him a chaste kiss.

“Mm-mm,” Suga hummed negatively when Oikawa pulled away. “More.” Suga hummed into the deep kiss, his fingers picking up on moving wherever he could reach on Oikawa’s body.

“Can we go fuck now?” he asked in a hushed voice, a little breathless after their intense kiss when they parted.

Oikawa’s face split into a grin. “Let’s go,” he declared, taking Suga’s hand into his to pull him up, kissing him as soon as they were both standing and started to lead him down the hallway to his bedroom.

If they took several breaks during their walk towards the closest bed, pressing Suga against a wall here and there because it was convenient to slot his leg between Suga’s and swallowing his desperate moans, it was only for them to know. Besides, no one would see the trail of clothes they left behind on their way, one article of clothing pulled or pushed off in a rush to feel skin on skin.

 

 

...

 

 

The next day, after a night that Oikawa could think back to and immediately feel the happiness still linger on him, from having Suga sleep in the same bed next to him. Naked yes, if you must know, but that was the best part about having sex with someone you loved, to fall asleep next to them right after with warmth engulfing them.

However, now Oikawa was pouting, with dignity.

Yes, that was a thing.

He was pouting, with a cocky attitude behind it.

Which, he realizes, might make someone think of him as a dick.

But not Suga, who looked more amused than put off. So, Oikawa kept the pout with a raised chin and narrowed eyes on his face.

“You could come too,” he suggested, not so subtly tugging on Suga’s sleeve like a child that desperately demanded attention.

“No, it’s sounds like a work outing. Team building. Some other phrase of a group of people that share something with each other that get together to do something.”

Oikawa chuckled. “You truly have a way with words.”

Suga turned to look at him, gently pulling his sleeve from Oikawa’s fingers in the process and preventing further stretching of the fabric. He placed his hands on Oikawa’s waist, grounding him for full focus and eye contact.

“Just go and have fun with them. I have plans with Daichi and Asahi anyway,” he said softly and gave him a gentle peck on his lips.

“Oh,” Oikawa sounded surprised. He trailed his hands up on Suga’s arms to his shoulders, dropping them behind Suga’s back and linking them together, to loosely hang between his shoulder blades. “What kind of plans?”

“Just hanging together. Talking and catching up.” Suga shrugged like he wasn’t quite sure but wasn’t too preoccupied by it either. “We haven’t been able to do that for a long time, it’s kind of overdue.”

A grin spread on Oikawa’s face, distinctly looking like he had a tease on his mind. “Please tell me you sit around a table, sipping tea from fancy cups, and gossiping about others.”

“Okay, I’m concerned,” Suga said with a concerned expression, rearing back a little. “Why do you have a mental image of us like we’re old ladies playing mahjong?”

Oikawa chuckled. “I don’t know,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s just a vibe I collectively get from you three.”

Suga rolled his eyes, dropped his hands from Oikawa’s hips and lightly slapped the back of his hand on Oikawa’s stomach as he walked away.

Oikawa chuckled watching after him. “Love you!” he called after him with glee. He didn’t get a reply back but he wasn’t worried about it.

He knew Suga didn’t mind getting old, and was probably looking forward to it.

Ten minutes later, as he was getting dressed, Suga poked his head in his room. “I’m going now. Love you.”

Oikawa looked up from the tie he was tying and met Suga’s eyes via the mirror. “Love you too.”

Suga sent him a cute hand kiss, and left, leaving Oikawa alone to take a steadying breath to calm his fluttering heart.

 

 

 

...

 

 

 

“Hey, Suga,” Asahi greeted him as he opened the door and let him inside. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Suga said as he took his shoes off. He was instantly met with the delicious smell of whatever it was that Asahi was cooking for them.

“I know you came home yesterday already, but still, welcome back.” Asahi went back to the little open kitchen area, leaving Suga alone for a bit to meander after him when he was ready to.

It didn’t long, and once Suga had closed the door, he was leaning on the counter to check on what Asahi had brewing in the pot on the stove. “Thanks, Asahi,” he chuckled. “It’s good to be back home.”

“Did you enjoy Kyoto?”

“It was alright,” Suga admitted, leaning his back to the counter to take a look around the studio apartment. It was filled with flowers, different bouquets that he was sure were personally hand-delivered by Nishinoya.

It would seem the two were happy with their relationship, now that it wasn’t a secret anymore and the two had finally admitted their feelings for each other. Whenever Suga felt like he and Oikawa had been idiots to take so long to confess, he was reminded by Asahi and Nishinoya who’d taken _years_ to do that.

It had been cute, though, sweet to watch on the sidelines how the two had tried to hide their relationship.

“What did you do there anyway?” Asahi’s question brought Suga’s attention back from the flowers, and the scent that they emitted that mixed nicely with the smell of the food.

“I’ll tell when Daichi gets here,” he answered. He didn’t want to repeat himself too much, retelling the same things multiple times. It was probably weird, but he got easily bored of his own stories. And if he told his friends at the same time, he could deal with their reactions at the same time. If Oikawa had been enthusiastic about the museum, Suga was sure it was nothing compared to his best friends who’d supported him and his photography for years.

Once Daichi had arrived, with a smile and happy greeting for Suga to be back, and they’d gotten settled with food, he didn’t wait any longer until he told them everything.

 

 

 

 

“I think I want to move.”

 

 

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid this is the beginning of the end... *goes to cry alone*


End file.
